Ivy’s POV

For two years, I’ve worn the Luna title like an ill-fitting cloak—heavy, burdensome, never truly mine. And even after all this time, Alpha Ethan and I don’t share a bed.

He once told me, “I just sleep better alone.” But the way he said it—the way he wouldn’t even look me in the eye—told me what he really meant. He didn’t want to sleep beside me. Me, specifically.

Today, as the late sun cast long shadows through the tall windows of the pack house, Ethan stood in the middle of the hall and announced that Farah would be staying for a while. Not just staying—she’d be taking the Luna quarters.

My quarters.

I didn’t flinch. I didn’t argue. I gave a small nod and murmured, “Alright.” I could feel his eyes on me, waiting for a reaction, probably even expecting a fight. But I was too tired. There was no point fighting for a place I was already being pushed out of.

When I turned away to begin packing, his footsteps echoed down the corridor—and just like that, he was gone. Again. With Farah.

In my old room, sunlight streamed through the windows, painting golden streaks on the carpet. I stood in the middle of the space I once tried so hard to make feel like mine. Now, it just felt hollow.

I pulled down a framed photo from the shelf—our wedding photo. The same one Farah knocked over earlier that morning. The glass was still cracked, but I hadn’t had the heart to throw it away. As I laid it flat inside the box, I didn’t see the broken edge sticking out.

My hand slipped.

“Shit—” I gasped as I fell to the floor, my knee landing squarely on the jagged glass. Pain shot up my thigh like fire, hot and biting. Blood immediately began to trickle down my leg, staining the hem of my dress. The wound wasn’t small—it was deep, and I could already feel the skin around it swelling.

But when I looked toward the door, it was empty. No footsteps. No scent of my so-called mate. He hadn’t even noticed I’d hurt myself. He hadn’t bothered to check on me.

I bit down hard on my lower lip, swallowing the sob that threatened to escape. My fingers trembled as I pressed the edge of my shirt against the bleeding wound. This pain was nothing compared to the one in my chest.

Not once in two years had he offered me comfort. Not when I had nightmares. Not when I was sick. Not even when I was kidnapped and thrown to rogues like a piece of meat.

Farah waltzes in and he hands her my bed, my room, my title—like it all belonged to her all along.

By sunset, I’d finished moving out of the Luna quarters. I carried the last box into one of the guest rooms, limping slightly as the pain in my knee worsened. The smell of antiseptic still clung to my hands after treating it myself. No healer had been called. I didn’t want to give anyone another reason to whisper about me being “too weak to be Luna.”

When Ethan finally returned, still smelling faintly of Farah’s jasmine scent, he glanced at the stack of boxes lining the hallway.

“Why are you packing up so much stuff?” he asked, his tone casual—as if the past few days hadn’t turned my world upside down.

I gave him a small smile. “Just clearing things I don’t need anymore.”

His brow twitched, but he didn’t press. “Farah’s just staying temporarily.”

I nodded. “Of course.”

He said nothing else and walked away.

Later that night, he informed me, in a clipped tone, that we’d be attending the Alpha Gathering.

“You want me to come?” I asked, surprised.

“You’re still Luna, aren’t you?” he said flatly. “You’re expected.”

Right. Of course. But I wasn’t the only woman on his arm that night.

Farah came too, draped in emerald silk, her glossy hair braided with moonflowers. She looked radiant. Ethan didn’t hide the way he admired her. The way his eyes trailed her every movement.

We arrived at the venue, a towering hall lit by chandeliers and filled with the scent of power and polished silver. Alphas from across the region mingled in tailored suits, their Lunas standing gracefully beside them. When we entered, the host—a thickly built Alpha from Granite Ridge—approached us with a warm smile.

“Alpha Ethan, Luna Ivy—how lovely to see you again.”

Before I could even return the greeting, Ethan corrected him.

“She’s not my Luna,” he said quickly, gesturing toward me with barely a glance. “This is Farah—daughter of the Snowland Pack.”

The host blinked in confusion, then quickly recovered with a courteous nod. “Of course.”

I said nothing. Not a flicker of pain showed on my face. But inside, I felt something wither.

He didn’t even call me by title. Just my name. Like I was no more than a former acquaintance tagging along.

We sat at our table, and I tried to swallow the bitterness building in my throat. My wolf stirred uncomfortably in my chest, restless, angry, humiliated.

But then something strange happened.

As I sat there, staring at the golden-rimmed plates, my stomach turned. A strange scent filled the air, faint but intoxicating. My heartbeat picked up, and my palms grew clammy.

I inhaled again, sharper this time.

That scent. My wolf suddenly lifted her head, ears alert.

She began to pace inside me, growling low with confusion and… anticipation?

The scent was pulling at her. At me. Like a magnet. Like fire to dry wood. It wrapped around my senses and squeezed.

I couldn’t breathe.

“I need some air,” I said quickly, rising to my feet. The room was suddenly too loud, too bright, too suffocating.

I didn’t wait for Ethan’s permission. I slipped through the side door of the hall, heart racing.

Because that scent didn’t belong to Ethan.

And whoever it did belong to… my wolf recognized him.

And that terrified me.

Ivy’s POV

The nausea hit me like a crashing wave, sudden and forceful. It wasn’t the kind that came from eating too little or standing too long—it was deeper, sharper, as if something inside me was being twisted by unseen claws. I clutched my head and leaned against the hallway wall just outside the gathering room, trying to breathe through it.

This was new. My wolf was restless, pacing, ears pinned back, tail low—not in fear, but in wild discomfort. I had no idea what was happening to us, only that I had to get away. Now.

The hotel staff had given us access to private rooms above the venue in case we needed rest during the gathering. I found an empty one and slipped in, locking the door behind me. The moment I stepped inside and shut out the suffocating crowd and mingling scents of alphas and betas, my body began to calm. My breath steadied. The nausea ebbed into a dull throb, and my wolf, though still alert, quieted.

I sat on the edge of the bed for a long while, breathing in the scentless air, my head bowed low. Maybe it was stress. Or maybe it was the humiliating introduction Ethan gave back there—denying our marriage, calling me just Ivy while Farah stood beside him glowing like a smug little star.

But just as I began to gather myself to return downstairs, I heard the door click.

I turned sharply, startled. The knob twisted, and Farah slipped in, not even pretending to knock. She closed the door behind her with a soft click, her scent wafting in like poison.

“Well,” she said, her smile stretched thin and sharp. “If it isn’t the perfect Luna, hiding away while the real guests enjoy the event.”

I didn’t rise. “What do you want?”

She walked slowly toward me, heels clicking like warning signals. “You always do this,” she said with a fake sigh. “Act like you don’t care. But you do. You’re so desperate for Ethan’s love, even now, after everything.”

I looked at her evenly, my voice quiet. “I’m not desperate. You can have him all you want.”

She scoffed, crossing her arms. “Like I need your permission. You were never his first choice. Hell, you weren’t even a choice. You clung to him like a weed after I left years ago, thinking being Luna would make you worth something.”

My stomach twisted again, stronger this time. My knees buckled slightly as I stood. I didn’t understand what was happening to me—why my entire body felt like it was rejecting the air itself.

“Whatever game you’re playing, Farah,” I said through clenched teeth, “I’m done playing it with you.”

“Oh, I’m not playing,” she said, and then—without warning—turned on her heel and walked to the door. Before leaving, she looked over her shoulder and added with syrupy malice, “You might want to rest a little longer. You look sick.” Then she locked the door from the outside.

I rushed after her, but she was already gone. I jiggled the handle—it wouldn’t budge. She’d even hung a “Do Not Disturb” sign on the knob. I could hear the click as it settled.

When I thought the strange feelings subsided, it resurfaced once again. And then it all hit at once.

My knees gave out and I collapsed onto the bed, my body burning from within. My wolf howled inside me—desperate, frantic, needing. But needing what?

My mind tried to reach out, frantically calling through the mindlink. Alpha Ethan. Ethan, I need—

Nothing.

Silence.

No answer.

I curled into the bed, shaking and burning and breathless. My skin prickled like fire ants crawling just beneath the surface. My wolf clawed at my insides, and my heart pounded so hard it hurt. The nausea, the heat, the need in my chest—I didn’t understand any of it. I felt like my body was desperate of something.

And just like that, everything faded.

Darkness swallowed me whole.

Third Person POV

The alpha gathering wound down with laughter, wine, and hollow declarations of alliance. But Ivy did not return.

Alpha Ethan stood with a drink in his hand, his arm loosely around Farah’s waist. He glanced around the thinning crowd once or twice—but only because Farah commented absently, “She must’ve gone home early. I think I saw her looking upset.”

Ethan didn’t even pretend to be concerned.

“She’s dramatic,” he muttered. “Always sulking when things don’t revolve around her.”

Farah offered a pitying look. “Well, I do feel bad. I hope she doesn’t do anything…rash.”

Ethan chuckled, sipping from his glass. “She’s not that unpredictable. She’ll be fine.”

And with that, he ushered Farah toward the car that would return them to the Foreland Pack. Not once did he look back. Not once did he ask anyone where his Luna had gone.

The next morning, a cleaning lady at the hotel knocked softly on a private room door. When there was no answer, she entered to tidy up—and gasped.

Ivy was still on the bed, unconscious. Her skin was pale, but her body was covered in a light sheen of sweat. Her breathing was shallow, and her temperature burned beneath her skin.

“Oh, Goddess,” the woman whispered. “Miss?”

Ivy stirred slowly, blinking groggily as if waking from a fevered dream.

“Do you need a doctor? I can call someone—”

“No,” Ivy rasped, struggling to sit up. “No, I’m fine.”

She wasn’t.

She gathered her composure and forced her body upright, every muscle protesting. She didn’t know what had happened to her last night. But she knew it had been real. Her wolf still trembled inside her, confused and needing something—or someone.

She left the room quietly and hailed a cab.

In the back seat, she found her phone tucked in her handbag. Several missed messages blinked on the screen—but none from Ethan.

Not even one.

Instead, her eyes fell on a string of messages from a name she hadn’t expected to see again so soon.

Alpha Vincent.

[I saw you last night at the alpha gathering, but you disappeared. I’m sure of it. Where did you go?]

[I tried to find you but I started feeling sick… damn it. It was strange.]

[Are you alright?]

[If you don’t answer, I’ll send my elite wolves to find you.]

[Also, I can’t wait weeks to get you out of Ethan’s Pack. I’ll give you a few days. After that… I’m coming to get you.]

Ivy's POV

The message from Alpha Vincent burned in my mind like a wildfire, “I’m coming to get you.” His words echoed over and over, a promise wrapped in salvation. The thought of walking away from Ethan, from everything I once believed in, filled me with a strange mixture of dread and relief. I had made up my mind. I’d leave Foreland Pack soon. Not now—not yet—but soon.

I thought I could steel myself for the waiting. But nothing could prepare me for what awaited me when I returned home.

The scent hit me first—sharp and intoxicatingly wrong. My own scent, crushed beneath the heavier musk of Farah. The way she slithered around Ethan’s room, like a snake in my garden. My throat tightened as I pushed the door open just enough to see.

There they were.

Farah lounging on Ethan’s bed, wrapped in the soft fabric of my clothes. My favorite dress—the one I thought was lost—was twisted around her slender frame like a mockery. She was moaning low, a sound that made bile rise in my throat. And Ethan… Ethan’s hands traced curves I once thought were mine to touch, his lips pressed roughly against hers.

I froze. For a moment, I thought maybe they hadn’t seen me. But then Farah’s eyes flicked toward the door. And that smirk… oh, that cruel, knowing smirk. She kissed him deeper, as if daring me to interfere, to fight for the scraps of a marriage he had already thrown away.

My body moved before my mind caught up. I stormed into the room, fury blazing like wildfire. Ethan’s eyes snapped wide, panic flashing across his face as he scrambled to pull his pants up.

“Ivy…” His voice was a weak apology, but I wasn’t having it. Not after everything.

I didn’t stop to listen.

I slapped him hard—hard—the sound echoing in the room. “I’m still your fucking Luna,” I hissed, every word a dagger. “And you’re a disgrace, Alpha. How dare you cheat to the one you promised forever with? How dare you?”

Farah’s eyes narrowed, a venomous gleam replacing her usual mockery. “You’re just bitter,” she sneered.

“Shut up, you damn slut,” I spat. “You are a whore, Farah. A snake! Even the Moon Goddess will be so disgusted of you!”

The room crackled with tension. Ethan’s jaw clenched so hard I thought it might break. “Shut the fuck up. Don’t talk to her like that. Apologize. Now.” His voice was cold and commanding.

I laughed, bitter and broken. “I won’t. You deserve every word.”

Farah’s expression shifted suddenly, a calculated sadness dripping from her eyes. Then, between shaky breaths, she whispered, “She’s… so mean, Alpha. I’m pregnant with your baby.”

The world tilted on its axis.

Ethan’s face was a mixture of shock and something darker. The thought burned me alive. How many times had he done this? How many nights had he forsaken me for her? How many times did they fuck each other in my sheets?

My hands curled into fists. “You’re a homewrecker. A flirt. You disgusting bitch! You’re both disgusting!”

Farah’s composure shattered. Tears streamed down her face as she collapsed into Ethan’s arms, sobbing uncontrollably.

I couldn’t stand it. I reached out and slapped her, hard enough to make her stagger. “How dare you act like you’re the victim!” I growled. “You’re a home-fucking-wrecker, Farah!.”

That was the last straw for Ethan.

His hand shot out, striking my cheek with a force that left stars swirling in my vision.

Shock, pain, and humiliation roared through me. My legs trembled, and I barely caught myself from collapsing. Farah’s face loomed over me—hostile, triumphant, and utterly indifferent.

Without another word, they turned their backs and left me alone in that room—their bed, our bed—still sticky with the evidence of their betrayal.

I sank to the floor, my heart pounding in my ears. But before I could gather my scattered thoughts, heavy footsteps approached. Wolves, my own packmates, stood at the door.

“Luna, you’re to come with us,” one said grimly. “Alpha’s orders. It’s a punishment.”

I didn’t need to ask where.

The pack’s dungeon—cold, dark, and suffocating. His punishment to me.

Days stretched before me like a bleak horizon. Locked away, forgotten, discarded. My spirit felt crushed beneath the weight of humiliation. How could I think clearly? How could I even feel anything but rage and sorrow?

And yet, the worst was Farah.

She came down to the dungeon more than once. Her voice, dripping with malice, filled the stale air as she taunted me with videos of her and Ethan—her laughing, her moaning, her triumphant grin as she bore the weight of his child.

“You should be happy, Luna,” she sneered. “You’re worthless now. This baby is the future.”

Each word felt like a knife twisting deeper into my chest. But heartbreak was gone. What was left was pure, raw disgust.

On the fourth day, a sudden wave of nausea swept over me, like the poison I’d felt at the Alpha gathering. My knees buckled, and the room spun until darkness swallowed me whole.

When I woke, I was back in my Luna room. The nausea had faded, but my vision was still blurry. A figure sat quietly beside me.

Ethan.

He looked guilty—but not remorseful. “Don’t do it again,” he said quietly. “Or the punishment will be worse.”

His words were poison, but I didn’t respond.

He stood and headed for the door. “We have visitors. The Alpha of Nightshade Pack.”

As he left, I realized someone else was there. Alpha Vincent.

My heart twisted in a strange way I didn’t understand. I knew it was time.

I looked down at my hand and saw the ring on my finger—the symbol of everything I was losing. With a shaky breath, I slid it off and tossed it out the window.

I felt weak—so weak. Ethan’s neglect, his betrayal, his cruelty had drained me of everything.

I gathered what little strength I had left and packed my things: the end-of-marriage agreement, the letter stepping down as Luna, my diary filled with years of pain and hope—all wrapped in a neat package, my farewell gift to Ethan.

Then, I placed the house key on the dining table and erased every trace of myself from his life.