“I’m ready to accept your condition and return to the Silvermoon Pack,” I said into the phone, my voice flat. Before my father could reply, I hung up.

For a long time, I just stood there, staring at the bedroom I had lived in for eight years. Eight years of loyalty, love, and silent endurance—and I had nothing to show for it.

Nothing except scars that refused to heal, both on my body and deep within my soul.

A shrill voice broke my thoughts.

“How dare you wear my mother’s ceremonial gown, you filthy omega!”

I turned slowly to find Aiden, his golden eyes burning with fury—the same eyes as his father, Alpha Liam Russo. My throat tightened.

“You aren’t going to say anything?” he barked, his young voice already carrying the dominance of a future alpha.

I exhaled softly. “Go to your celebration, Aiden. Your friends are waiting.”

“No!” he shouted, and before I could move, he grabbed the crystal jug from the table and hurled its contents at me.

The scorching pain came instantly. I screamed as the herbal wolfsbane brew I’d just prepared for his father splashed over me, searing my skin.

“Yes! That’s what you deserve!” he yelled, his fangs glinting for a brief second. “You’ll never replace my mother! You killed her with your cursed blood and now you dare to wear her sacred gown?”

The door burst open and a maid rushed in, gasping as she saw me clutching my arm, my skin blistered from the burn.

“I’m sorry, Miss Clara! Aiden ran off from his guards. I’ll take him away right now,” she stammered and dragged the boy away—he was smiling, triumphant.

When they were gone, I slumped against the wall, trembling. I stared at the dress now ruined with dark stains. This gown—white and embroidered with silver moons—had once belonged to my step-sister Seraphina, the former Luna of this pack, who had died giving birth to Aiden.

Eight years ago, I was supposed to be Liam’s mate. We were childhood friends, promised to each other by the Moon Goddess.

But fate, or maybe betrayal, changed everything.

Liam rejected me the night before our mating ceremony and chose Seraphina instead. Within months, she was pregnant and wearing the Luna mark that was meant for me. When she died giving birth, the pack whispered that it was my curse—my jealousy—that killed her. The Elders stripped me of my Beta lineage and branded me an outcast omega.

To atone for my “sins,” my stepmother forced me to stay here and raise Aiden—the pup of the she-wolf who stole my mate. For eight long years, I obeyed. I loved him as if he were my own son. I served Liam as if I were still his mate. But love never softened them.

Liam only saw me as a shadow of the woman he’d lost.

Aiden saw me as her murderer.

The burn on my arm throbbed as I entered the bathroom. Cold water hissed against my skin, steam rising from the contact.

If that had happened three years ago, I would’ve begged for forgiveness, begged Liam not to punish Aiden. But now, I was done.

Today was Aiden’s eighth birthday—the same day Seraphina had died. The pack would celebrate the heir of Silvermoon. And I would finally walk away.

Funny thing was, this gown was never Seraphina’s. It was mine—a gift from my late mother, the former Beta female. Seraphina stole it from my wardrobe the day Liam announced their bond. Just like she stole everything else.

“Clara,” Liam’s voice called from the other side of the door, deep and commanding.

“The party’s starting. Where are you?”

I stepped out, dressed now in a simple gray robe, and met his eyes as he entered. The years had barely touched him—broad shoulders, sharp jawline, and that aura of dominance that made every wolf bow instinctively. I used to shiver under that power. Now, it only made me feel sick.

He frowned at the sight of my burn. “I heard what Aiden did. Don’t take it to heart, Clara. He’s just a child. He loves you, in his own way.”

A bitter laugh escaped me. “Love? You call hatred love?”

His brow furrowed. “Don’t talk like that. He’s my son—and he’s your responsibility.”

I turned away, grabbing the silver healing balm from the dresser. The ointment shimmered faintly—it was made from moonflower essence, used only for wolves of high rank. I dabbed it on the wound, watching the swelling slowly fade.

“Let me help you,” Liam murmured, taking the jar from me before I could protest. His touch brushed over my skin, gentle, familiar. Too familiar.

His fingers lingered, tracing circles that once made my heart race. Now they made my stomach twist.

“Be patient with him,” he whispered, his breath hot against my neck. “You know the Moon Goddess tests us in cruel ways.”

I stepped away, breaking his hold. “Liam, I have something to tell you.”

He sighed, irritation flickering in his eyes. “Can’t it wait? Aiden’s ceremony begins soon.”

“No,” I said firmly. “It can’t. Today marks eight years since Seraphina’s death. I’ve fulfilled my duty. I’m leaving this pack tonight.”

His head snapped up, a low growl rumbling from his chest. The air thickened, the weight of his alpha command pressing against my lungs.

“You swore to stay until Aiden came of age,” he snarled. “You can’t just walk away.”

I met his gaze unflinchingly. “I didn’t swear to be your slave.”

For a moment, silence filled the room. Then his eyes softened, his tone turning almost pleading.

“Clara… you know you belong here. You’re part of this pack. You’re part of me.”

“No,” I said quietly. “You rejected me. Remember?”

“What nonsense are you saying?” Liam’s voice thundered, shaking the walls.

His expression hardened, his features carved with authority and anger—the kind that once used to terrify me into silence. The air grew heavy, charged with his Alpha dominance, but I no longer flinched beneath it.

“It’s the eighth year, Liam,” I said, steady and firm. “I’m leaving.”

His golden eyes flashed, sharp as a blade. “What is wrong with you, Clara? Why must you always stir up drama? I already told you—Aiden is just a child. Don’t take what he did personally. Today is his birthday. Come with me, and I’ll talk to him later.”

He reached out and grabbed my arm, the pressure of his grip familiar and unwelcome.

I yanked my hand away, meeting his glare with a calm I didn’t truly feel. “You’re the one who said, when he turns eight, I can leave. You made that promise, Liam. I’m only holding you to your word.”

Before he could reply, a sharp, cutting voice pierced through the tension.

“Clara, how shameless can you be?”

I didn’t need to turn to recognize that voice. Sarah Russo, my stepmother and Aiden’s grandmother, stood in the doorway, her presence as suffocating as her perfume. Dressed in dark velvet, with silver rings gleaming on her fingers, she looked every bit the matriarch she believed herself to be—powerful, untouchable, cruel.

“Always desperate to steal the spotlight,” she sneered. “Even on a little boy’s birthday, you just can’t help yourself.”

I met her cold gaze. “I’m not stealing anything, Sarah. You’re the one who made the deal. You said after eight years I could leave this house, this pack. I’m simply keeping my end.”

Her smile was sharp as glass. “Must you bring that up tonight, of all nights?”

“It’s fine,” Liam cut in, his tone weary, as though the argument was beneath him. “Clara didn’t mean anything by it.”

Years ago, I would have melted at his attempt to mediate. I would have mistaken his indifference for care. But now, I could see through the act. He didn’t defend me—he just wanted peace in his perfect, broken household.

“Come,” he said, his voice softer now but no less commanding. “Let’s not ruin the evening.”

I said nothing and let him guide me to the ballroom.

The Silvermoon Pack’s great hall was alive with music and laughter. The scent of roasted meat and moon ale filled the air, blending with the earthy tang of wolf pheromones and flickering candle smoke. The pack celebrated under glittering chandeliers and banners of silver silk.

Aiden stood in the center of it all, wearing a small crown of black iron, his cheeks flushed from attention. When he saw me, his smile vanished.

“Look, Aiden, your mother’s here,” one of the elders teased.

Aiden scoffed loudly. “She’s not my mother!”

The laughter died instantly. The air turned thick.

Liam’s jaw tightened as he placed a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Aiden, enough. You know that’s not how we talk to Clara. She’s been raising you since the day you were born.”

The boy’s small chest heaved with anger. “She can never be my mother! Everyone knows she killed my real one!”

Whispers broke through the crowd like the hiss of serpents.

> “Is that true? She’s the sister of the late Luna.”

> “I heard she was jealous.”

> “Maybe the boy’s right… she doesn’t belong here.”

Each word cut, not because they were new—but because they were old wounds reopened.

“Apologize to her,” Liam ordered.

I shook my head, forcing a small, tired smile. “It’s alright. It doesn’t matter.”

Without another word, I turned and walked away, the murmurs following me like shadows.

Once, his words would have shattered me. Now, they were just noise.

No matter what I did, Liam’s heart still belonged to Seraphina, and Aiden would forever see me as the woman who replaced her.

“Why would you create a scene today?”

Sarah’s voice sliced through the quiet corridor. She stepped out from the shadows, her eyes cold, her presence sharp as ever.

I met her gaze without fear. “What do you want, Sarah?” I asked quietly. “I’ve done what you forced me to do for eight years. I’ve raised your grandson, kept your Alpha’s house, endured your whispers. My debt is paid.”

Her lips twisted. “Debt? You think you’ve repaid anything? You owe this family your life, Clara. You will stay and care for Aiden as if he were your own. You’ll tolerate his temper. His grief. His resentment. If my daughter were still alive, none of this would fall on you.”

“Pity,” I said flatly, “your daughter isn’t.”

Her hand came up before she could think, trembling with fury. But this time, I caught her wrist mid-swing.

“Don’t,” I warned softly. “Don’t try it. Not tonight.”

I could see it in her eyes—the flash of fear, the realization that I wasn’t the obedient girl she once bullied into silence. “Eight years ago, you forced me into this life,” I continued. “You said I could leave when the boy turned eight. He’s eight now. I’m done.”

I released her wrist, and she stumbled back, clutching her arm.

“Do what you want, Clara,” she hissed, voice shaking with rage. “This is why no one will ever love you. Not Liam. Not your father. No one.”

She turned and stormed away, her scent lingering like poison.

For a long moment, I just stood there, breathing in the silence she left behind. The truth of her words should have hurt—but all I felt was the faint, cold calm of acceptance.

It had been eight years since I’d seen my father. Eight years since he’d turned his back on me.

In his eyes, I had died the same day Seraphina did.

A faint shuffle behind me made me turn.

“I’m sorry,” a small voice said.

Aiden stood there, clutching something behind his back. His face was innocent now, his eyes wide and glimmering with something that almost looked like guilt.

“I got you a gift,” he said softly.

I blinked, momentarily disarmed. “Aiden… you didn’t have to.”

He smiled shyly, stepping closer. “But I wanted to. You’ve done so much for me. Please, open it.”

For a fleeting second, I felt something warm stir in my chest—hope, fragile and foolish. I took the small box and unwrapped the crimson ribbon.

Inside lay a shattered moonstone pendant, its chain torn and twisted. My breath caught.

It was my mother’s pendant—the only keepsake I had left of her, one she’d given me when I turned sixteen. I’d kept it hidden for years, wrapped safely in cloth.

Now, it was broken. Destroyed.

“I found it in your drawer,” Aiden said, voice light, almost teasing. “I thought it didn’t suit you anymore. You know… because you don’t really belong here.”

He smiled, his expression too calm, too cruel for a child. “Maybe now you’ll remember your place.”

I stared down at the ruined pendant, the tiny moonstone shards glinting in the dim light like tears.

Something inside me shifted—snapped, maybe. Eight years of silence, pain, and endurance condensed into a single, breathless moment of realization.

The boy I had raised was gone.

The man I had loved was gone.

And the only thing left for me in this cursed house was the will to leave it behind.

Outside, the full moon had risen—bright, cold, and pitiless.

And as its light poured through the windows, I knew it was finally time to follow its call.

I stood frozen, staring at the small box in my hands.

Inside lay the last thing in this mansion that had ever truly belonged to me—my moonstone pendant, the one my late mother had given me before she died.

The chain was snapped clean in half, the delicate stone crushed into glittering shards.

It used to shine faintly under moonlight, a charm said to carry a mother’s blessing. Now it was nothing but fragments—cold, broken, lifeless.

My breath hitched.

That pendant was the only piece of my mother I still had, the only thing that had ever felt like home.

And now, it was gone.

“Don’t mess with me, and don’t make my father angry with me again!”

Aiden’s voice was sharp, hateful—too sharp for a child.

He stood there watching me, his small chin lifted defiantly. “You should have stayed quiet. Maybe then you wouldn’t have lost your precious little trinket.”

He turned and stormed off down the corridor, his boots slapping against the marble floor, leaving only silence and the faint scent of wolfsbane lingering in the air.

I sank slowly to my knees, the box trembling in my hands.

Fate was mocking me again. The pendant had once been my mother’s, then mine. I had guarded it through exile, rejection, and humiliation. And now, the boy I’d raised, the one I’d taught to walk, to read, to fight, had destroyed it—just because he could.

Because he knew it would hurt me.

A quiet sob escaped before I could stop it. My tears fell onto the broken shards, making them glisten under the cold moonlight like tiny pieces of my heart.

“Why are you out in the cold, Clara? You’ll catch your death like this.”

Liam’s deep voice came from behind me.

He stepped outside, his expression soft with concern—or perhaps irritation at the sight of my tears. He draped his jacket over my shoulders, but I pushed it away instantly. The scent of him suffocated me.

“What happened?” he asked, though his tone already carried the fatigue of someone who didn’t really want to know.

His gaze landed on the crushed pendant, and a look of mild disgust flickered across his face. “What’s that?”

“Your son came to apologize,” I said flatly.

Liam frowned. “He’s your son too.”

I let out a brittle laugh. “He hates me, Liam. He just destroyed the only thing I had left of my mother.”

He sighed, rubbing his temple. “Clara, don’t be dramatic. He’s a child. I’m sure it was just a prank. Come inside—it’s freezing. I’ll talk to him in the morning.”

I turned away. “I don’t want your talks or your excuses. I’m done listening to them.”

Ignoring his words, I picked up the pieces of the pendant and walked toward the garden. Liam followed, muttering about how stubborn I was, but I didn’t care.

At the small patch of moonflowers I’d planted years ago, I knelt down and dug into the soil with my bare hands. My fingers burned from the cold, but I didn’t stop until I had a small hollow in the earth.

Gently, I placed the shattered pendant inside. “Sleep, Mother,” I whispered. “You’ve suffered enough.”

When I looked up, Liam was watching me silently. For a moment, something almost like regret crossed his face. Then it was gone.

We walked back into the mansion without a word. The party had ended hours ago; only the faint smell of wine and smoke lingered. The candles had burned down to wax pools, and silence had claimed the hallways.

I sneezed softly, and before I could steady myself, Liam caught my arm. “Come,” he said, guiding me upstairs. I didn’t resist. I didn’t have the energy to.

He sat down and pulled me into his lap like he used to years ago. I stiffened immediately, but he didn’t seem to notice.

“What do you want, Liam?” I asked quietly.

He brushed a stray lock of hair from my cheek. “What’s wrong with you tonight? You’re overreacting. I’ll get you a new pendant.”

“I don’t want another,” I whispered. “I want to leave. Tomorrow.”

His arm around me tightened. “You can’t leave. Aiden needs you. You’re the only one I trust with him.”

“He doesn’t need me,” I said softly. “He never did. He hates me, and I don’t blame him. You’ve made sure of that.”

Liam’s jaw clenched. “You’re being unfair. You know I can’t marry you now—the pack would never accept it. Seraphina’s death is still—”

“I’m not asking to be your mate,” I interrupted, my voice trembling despite myself. “I just don’t want to be trapped here anymore.”

He sighed, frustration bleeding through his calm. “Then stay for your own sake. If you had a child for me, everything would change. No one would dare speak against you. You’d have a place—protection.”

I laughed softly, bitterly. “So after eight years, you still think the solution is another chain?”

He stood, running a hand through his hair. “You’re emotional. Sleep on it. We’ll talk in the morning.”

But I didn’t sleep.

I spent the night packing my things, one piece at a time. My old dresses, the few trinkets I’d been allowed to keep, my mother’s letters—everything that reminded me of who I had been before Silvermoon had taken it away.

When dawn came, I was ready.

Dragging my suitcases through the quiet halls, I paused only once—by the window overlooking the garden. The fresh mound of dirt where my pendant rested shimmered faintly in the morning frost. For the first time in years, I felt something that almost resembled peace.

Then came the sound—soft, slow clapping.

“Well, well,” a voice purred behind me.

I turned to find Selene,

I sighed, Selene was Liam’s mistress and Aiden’s favorite.

Her red lips curved in a mocking smile. Draped in black silk, she leaned lazily against a pillar, amusement glittering in her dark eyes.

“So, the rumor was true,” she drawled. “You’re finally leaving. Took you long enough.”

I said nothing and kept walking, but she blocked my path, tilting her head. “Eight years, Clara. Eight years of pretending to be something you’re not. Eight years of chasing a man who was never yours. Did you really think he’d ever love you?”

I looked her squarely in the eye. “I don’t care anymore. You can have him. Have the house. Have the pack. None of this belongs to me.”

Her smirk deepened. “Oh, I intend to,” she whispered. “And when the next full moon rises, I’ll stand beside him as Luna—something you never were.”

Before I could respond, the front doors swung open.

Liam stepped out, followed by Aiden.

In a heartbeat, Selene’s expression shifted. She gasped dramatically, dropping to her knees and clutching the hem of my dress.

“Clara, please!” she cried. “Don’t go! Aiden needs you! You’ve been his mother for so long—how could you abandon him now?”

I stared down at her coldly.

“He loves you,” she continued, tears spilling artfully down her cheeks. “He’s just a child. Please… don’t leave him.”

Liam exhaled sharply, irritation flickering in his eyes. “Enough, Selene. Stop this nonsense. Clara, you’re making a scene. If it’s about that pendant, I’ll buy you another one.”

I almost laughed. Of course. He thought everything could be replaced. Even love.

Before I could speak, Aiden ran forward and threw his arms around Selene. “Stand up, Selene,” he said softly, wiping her fake tears. Then he turned to me, his young face hard, eyes burning.

“You killed my mother with your cursed heart,” he spat. “And now you want to hurt Selene too.”

I said nothing. There was nothing left to say.

“Let her go, Father,” Aiden continued, his small voice cold. “I don’t want her here. I want Selene to stay. She should be my mother. She deserves it.”

He looked up at me one last time, his words slicing deep.

“You’re wicked. That’s why Father could never love you. I’m glad you’re leaving.”

The world seemed to fall silent.

After a long moment, I managed a small, weary smile. “After eight years… if that’s truly what you believe, then I have nothing more to give.”

I turned away, lifting my suitcase. The courtyard wind bit at my skin, carrying the faint scent of pine and ash. Freedom was only a few steps away.

Then—click.

The unmistakable sound of a crossbow being drawn.

I turned, heart pounding.

Aiden stood at the steps, his small hands steady, the weapon aimed straight at my head. His golden eyes glowed faintly under the rising sun—cold, feral, unmistakably his father’s.

And in the breath of silence that followed, he smiled.

Then he pulled the trigger.