The days following the ambush felt like they stretched into months. I had returned to my duties, but it wasn’t the same. Something had shifted in me, and I knew I couldn’t ignore it anymore.

The pack moved on as if nothing had changed, but I had. The loss—my secret loss—cut deeper than any wound I could show. Joshua didn’t know, and he never would. It wasn’t something I could share with him, not anymore. He wouldn’t understand. How could he, when his heart was already elsewhere?

I threw myself into the routines. Morning patrols. Training. Meetings. But every move felt mechanical, like I was merely going through the motions of being Luna. There was no fire, no passion. Only emptiness.

The whispers started soon after. “Where’s Luna Eloise?” they would ask when I wasn’t there, or “She hasn’t been the same since the attack.” They thought I couldn’t hear them, but I did.

Let them whisper. I didn’t care. Not anymore.

---

I was in the pack’s training grounds, watching a few of the warriors spar when I felt someone approach. The scent hit me before I saw him—Joshua. Pine and earth, the unmistakable scent of my mate. My wolf stirred slightly, but I forced her down. She wasn’t going to cloud my judgment. Not today.

“Eloise.” His voice was softer than usual, as if he knew something was off but couldn’t quite put his finger on it.

I turned to him, meeting his gaze without flinching. “What do you want, Alpha?”

His eyes flickered with something—concern, maybe? But I wasn’t falling for that anymore. “You’ve been distant,” he said. “The pack needs you.”

I let out a bitter laugh. “The pack doesn’t need me. They need someone who cares enough to lead them. I’m not sure I’m that person anymore.”

Joshua frowned, taking a step closer. “What are you talking about? You’re Luna. You’ve always been strong for the pack.”

I shook my head, unable to hold back the frustration that had been building for weeks. “You don’t get it, do you? I’m not here to be your shadow, Alpha. I’m not here to clean up after your mistakes or pretend everything is fine.”

He stiffened, his jaw tightening. “I don’t see you as a shadow, Eloise.”

“Don’t you?” I snapped, my voice rising. “Because ever since Monique arrived, you’ve done nothing but put her first. You didn’t even see me! You didn’t notice what I was going through.”

Joshua blinked, taken aback by the force of my words. “Monique has nothing to do with this.”

“She has everything to do with this,” I shot back. “Every time you chose her over me, every time you went to her, leaving me behind... You think I didn’t notice? The entire pack noticed.”

His brow furrowed. “I was protecting her—”

“I know.” I cut him off. “And I understand. You’re Alpha. It’s your duty to protect the pack. But that’s not the problem, Alpha. It’s that you didn’t protect me. You didn’t even ask how I was after the ambush. You didn’t see me.”

He stared at me, speechless for a moment. “I—”

“I lost something that day, Alpha,” I said, my voice softer now, more broken than I wanted it to be. “And you never even asked. You never cared enough to notice.”

“What are you talking about?” His voice dropped, concern creeping in now.

I pressed my lips together, the words clawing at my throat. I lost our child, I wanted to scream. But I didn’t. What would be the point? He hadn’t noticed I was pregnant, and now it was too late.

The decision to leave didn’t come suddenly—it was the result of years of neglect, of small betrayals that I had tried to ignore. I had told myself over and over that things would get better, that Joshua would come back to me, and that his attention on Monique was temporary. But I was lying to myself.

Each time I saw him with her, each time he chose her over me, a part of me broke. And I had let it happen. I had stood by, silent, while my mate—the Alpha—showered Monique with the attention that should have been mine. I had been blind to it for so long, convincing myself that Joshua’s bond with me would overcome everything. But it hadn’t.

The ambush had opened my eyes, and now, no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t close them again. I couldn’t unsee the truth. The truth that Joshua had been pulling away from me for years. The truth that he had chosen Monique long before that attack. I had been blind, but I wasn’t anymore.

That evening, as I sat by the window of our shared room, the memories flooded back. It wasn’t just one incident—it had been a thousand small moments, piling up until I could no longer breathe under the weight of them.

The first time was subtle. Monique had only just joined the pack. She was the daughter of an allied Alpha, and Joshua had been tasked with making her feel welcome. I had brushed off their growing closeness at first. I told myself that he was just doing his duty, that it was nothing more than him being a good Alpha.

But then came the missed dinners, the moments where I would catch them training together for hours while I stood on the sidelines, watching like a stranger. The way he would cancel our meetings to spend time with her, always with some flimsy excuse about “pack politics” or “strengthening alliances.” And I had accepted it. Every time, I told myself it didn’t mean anything. That we were stronger than this.

But the day of the ambush had shattered that illusion. He had chosen her. In the heat of battle, when instinct ruled, he hadn’t come to me. He hadn’t protected me, his Luna, his mate. He had protected her. And in that moment, something inside me broke. That was when I realized: I had been nothing more than an afterthought for him, a title without meaning.

Now, as I sat there, staring at the bag I had packed, I knew I couldn’t stay any longer. I couldn’t live in the shadow of a mate who didn’t see me.

I walked over to the desk, the weight of my decision heavy on my chest. But it wasn’t sadness I felt—it was a strange kind of relief. I picked up a pen and stared at the blank sheet of paper. What could I even say? How do you put years of hurt into words?

Alpha,

I’ve tried for so long to make this work. I’ve tried to believe that we could find our way back to each other, but I can’t do it anymore.

You’ve been drifting away from me for years, and I was too blind to see it. Too blind to admit that you’ve chosen Monique over me time and time again. I’ve tried to convince myself that things would change, but they haven’t. And they won’t.

I can’t stay in a place where I’m no longer respected or seen. I deserve better than being someone’s second choice.

This is goodbye.

Eloise