Erwin’s amber eyes flicked toward me, his wolf faintly shimmering behind them. For a brief moment, I thought he might acknowledge me, might remember the mate bond that bound us. Instead, his focus returned to Mina, and his voice softened like a calming breeze.

“Yes, I’ll be taking Kitty to the healer today,” he said, his words cutting me as deeply as claws.

The butler, who had been lingering by the door, froze. His weathered face turned pale, his lips pressing into a thin line as if to hold back words he dared not speak. He glanced at me with pity, the kind of look that said, You deserve better.

I despised that look. I didn’t need his sympathy. I lowered my gaze to my soup and forced myself to eat, though the warmth did nothing to thaw the growing chill in my chest.

The sound of shattering ceramic cut through the silence.

I looked up sharply, my wolf stirring at the sudden noise. My heart sank as I saw the remnants of the ceramic bowl I had made for Erwin scattered across the stone floor.

It wasn’t just a bowl. It was the first gift I’d ever given him, crafted with my own hands when I joined his pack. He’d once treated it like a treasure, placing it in the center of the table as a symbol of our bond.

And now, it was nothing but broken shards.

Mina gasped, her hand flying to her mouth as if she were horrified by her own actions. She stumbled back a step, her big doe eyes glistening with unshed tears.

“I... I didn’t mean to!” she whimpered, her voice trembling like a leaf caught in a storm.

Before I could react, Erwin was at her side, his towering frame shielding her from whatever danger he imagined I posed.

“It’s just a bowl,” he said, his tone calm and reassuring. “Don’t look so scared, little one. Who would dare blame you for something so trivial?”

His words, meant to comfort her, sliced through me like a blade. He turned toward me, his eyes sharp and accusing.

“Elena,” he said, his voice low and warning, “don’t make this a big deal.”

I hadn’t even spoken, but he had already decided I was the villain in this story.

Mina’s lip quivered as she dropped to her knees, reaching for the broken shards. “Elena, I’m so sorry,” she said, her voice breaking. “I know how much this bowl meant to you and Erwin. It was a symbol of your bond. I’m so clumsy.”

As she picked up a sharp piece, blood bloomed from her fingers, the bright red stark against the pale ceramic.

“Mina!” Erwin barked, crouching beside her in an instant. His wolf flared, his concern for her palpable. “What are you doing? You’re hurt.”

The maid hesitated at the edge of the room, her gaze flicking to me as if waiting for permission. I gave her a small nod, and she scurried off to fetch supplies.

Erwin’s full attention was on Mina. He gently dabbed at her wound, his hands steady and his movements tender.

“Silly girl,” he murmured, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “You should be more careful. You’re too delicate for this.”

Delicate. The word echoed in my mind. Wasn’t I delicate, too?

I looked down at my own hand, the bandage wrapped around it already stained red. My cut from the night before had reopened, but Erwin hadn’t noticed. He hadn’t even cared enough to ask why my hand was injured in the first place.

The shattered bowl lay forgotten at their feet, but to me, it was more than broken pottery. It was the perfect metaphor for us. For the bond we’d once shared.

A bitter laugh escaped my lips before I could stop it.

Mina flinched, her eyes darting toward me. She curled into Erwin’s arms like a frightened pup seeking protection.

“What’s so funny, Elena?” Erwin asked, his wolf flashing in his eyes.

I stood slowly, the ache in my chest more painful than the wound on my hand. “It’s funny how easily you believe her,” I said, my voice steady despite the turmoil inside me. “How quick you are to defend her, to care for her, while you ignore me.”

“Careful,” Erwin growled, his tone low and dangerous. “Mina is part of this pack, just like you. She’s been through enough without your bitterness.”

“Bitterness?” I repeated, my laugh hollow. “Do you even hear yourself, Erwin? You treat her like she’s your mate, not me. Do you even remember who I am?”

His jaw tightened, and his eyes darkened, his wolf rising to the surface. “You’re acting like a jealous pup, Elena. This behavior isn’t worthy of a Luna.”

The words hit harder than any physical blow.

Mina sniffled, her tears falling freely. “Elena, I’m so sorry,” she said, her voice shaking. “I didn’t mean to break the bowl, and I didn’t mean to come between you and Erwin. I just... I just wanted to help.”

“Help?” I echoed, my voice sharp. “By breaking the only thing I had left from him?”

Erwin stepped between us, his shoulders broad and imposing. His protective stance was meant for her, not me.

“That’s enough,” he said firmly. “You’re letting your emotions cloud your judgment, Elena. You’re supposed to be my Luna, yet here you are, acting like a jealous fool. Mina didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Didn’t do anything wrong?” I asked, my voice trembling. “She’s manipulated you from the start, Erwin. And you’re too blind to see it.”

“Enough!” he roared, his wolf fully surfacing for a moment. “Mina is family, and I will not let you treat her this way.”

The room fell silent, the air heavy with tension.

I looked at him, really looked at him, and for the first time, I saw the man he had become. The man who no longer saw me as his equal.

“You’re right,” I said quietly, my voice breaking. “I’m not acting like your Luna. Maybe that’s because I’m not your Luna anymore.”

His eyes widened slightly, but he didn’t speak.

I turned and left the room, my steps steady even as my heart shattered.

Upstairs, I closed the door to my room and leaned against it, taking a deep breath. The tears came then, hot and uncontrollable, but they didn’t last long.

My resolve hardening.I will leave here, forever.

If Erwin couldn’t see my worth, someone else would.

Packing my things wasn’t easy. I had spent so much of my life around the Blackwell family, so much of my heart had been given to Erwin. But now, I realized how much I had given up in the process. I’d let myself be consumed by their world, by Erwin’s world, without even realizing the dangerous path I was walking.

After my parents died—tragically, suddenly—I had no one but them. Sylvia Blackwell had taken me in, offering me comfort and a home when I was lost. But looking back, I could see how subtly and skillfully they’d drawn me in, how their influence had shaped my life without me noticing.

It was terrifying, the way it had all happened. What had started as simple gratitude had grown into a deep attachment, a reliance on them that had clouded my judgment. I had believed, for so long, that Erwin was my future. That he was my everything.

But now, as I packed away the remnants of a life I no longer wanted, I could see how blind I had been.

I was just about to put the final few things in a box when I heard a soft knock at the door.

“Elena,” Erwin’s voice called from the other side, muffled and hesitant. “Is your hand okay?”

I stiffened. His words, meant to be a form of care, were nothing more than a quiet plea. He was giving me a way out, offering me the chance to forgive him once again, as if I were some easily manipulated creature.

I knew him too well. I knew the way he worked, the way he always tried to coax me back into his orbit. But this time, I wasn’t going to fall for it.

Before I could answer, he opened the door and stepped inside. The look on his face was a mixture of concern and frustration, but there was something in his eyes—something almost desperate—that made me pause for a second.

I could feel my wolf stirring, sensing the tension in the air. He wasn’t just here for my hand. He was here because he knew I was leaving. And that scared him.

I didn’t want to look at him. I didn’t want to see the pity in his eyes, the way he always thought I would come running back to him. So, I focused on my task, tearing through the photo album I had once kept so carefully. The album that chronicled our relationship, the one filled with pictures of us together, smiling and happy. It had all been a lie.

“Elena,” Erwin said again, his voice quiet, but sharp with frustration. “Are you still mad?”

I didn’t answer him. I couldn’t. My emotions were a tangled mess, a storm of hurt and anger that I couldn’t unravel. But as I tore up the album, I felt something inside me break—a part of me that had once loved him so deeply, so desperately.

When I didn’t respond, Erwin’s eyes dropped to the torn pieces of paper scattered across the floor. His expression shifted from concern to confusion, then to anger.

“What are you doing?!” he demanded.

“These are all blurred,” I said flatly, not looking up from the torn pages. “I don’t want them anymore.”

His jaw clenched. “Are you trying to mess with me in some way?”

“Whatever you say is what it is,” I replied, my voice steady and cold.

I could see the anger building in him as he watched me discard everything I had once held dear. He didn’t understand. He couldn’t. I was done with him, with all of it. But he wasn’t ready to let go.

With a harsh movement, Erwin turned on his heel and stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him. The sound echoed through the house, and I let out a slow breath, releasing the tension that had been building inside me.

But as soon as the door shut, the weight of it all settled over me again. I needed that box. I had to find it. The small box my parents had left me—the only thing I had left from them. The only thing that had ever felt like home.

I searched through my drawers, through every corner of the room, but it wasn’t there. Panic rose in my chest as I realized it was missing. I couldn’t leave without it. It was all I had left.

My heart pounded in my chest as I rushed down the hall to find Erwin.

“Have you seen my little box?” I demanded, my voice shaking.

Erwin barely glanced up from the couch, where he sat with Mina. She was holding the cat, her fingers trailing through its fur as if it were some precious possession.

“That pile of junk?” he said casually, as if it meant nothing.

I froze. My blood ran cold. Those were my parents’ things—my only keepsakes from them. How could he call them junk?

I stormed up to him, my hands shaking with rage. “Answer me! Did you see it?”

Erwin sighed, standing slowly. “I gave Kitty the toys. They’re probably in there somewhere.”

My mind went blank. “What?”

“I gave your junk to the cat,” he said with a shrug, as if it were no big deal.

The words hit me like a slap. I could feel my chest tightening, my wolf growling in the back of my mind. “Why would you give my things to the cat?” I demanded, my voice rising in pitch.

It was the first time Erwin had ever seen me like this. I felt like I was losing control, like the pieces of my world were slipping through my fingers.

Mina’s eyes widened as she looked at me, her hand tightening around the cat.

Erwin frowned, his voice dropping to a harsh growl. “What’s wrong with you? Are you crazy?”

Before I could respond, Mina appeared beside him, her face a mask of faux concern. She held the cat tighter, as though it were the only thing keeping her grounded.

The air in the room felt heavy, like a storm was brewing.