The next day, the clinic doors burst open.

“Where is the doctor? Ariella's stomach is hurting again!” Marcus barked, carrying Ariella, who whimpered dramatically in his arms.

The pack doctor rushed over, checking her vitals, murmuring diagnostics under his breath.

“I—I don’t understand,” he said, frowning. “We just transfused blood a few days ago. Why does she need more?”

Marcus’s eyes locked onto me. “Then give her more.”

The doctor hesitated. “We don’t have the right match available right now—”

“I said give her more!” Marcus roared. “Use Esther again if you have to. Drain every drop if that’s what it takes!”

My heart stuttered.

The doctor turned to me with a pale face. “Luna... I...”

I sat up slowly, my body trembling under the effort. “Do it,” I said hollowly. “If that’s what the Alpha commands.”

Without wasting another second, they began to draw my blood.

They said it wouldn’t take long—that it was “just a bit more blood.” But that bit felt like a flood. My veins screamed in protest, my limbs turned ice-cold, my vision blurring at the edges as the blood drained from me.

When it was finally over, the coven of healers and Marcus’s warriors left without a word.

Marcus didn’t even come this time.

They just... left me there.

Suddenly, the door opened again.

I expected a healer. Maybe even Marcus. But instead, it was Ariella.

She walked in slowly, like she had all the time in the world, and closed the door behind her with a soft click.

“Well, well,” she purred. “Still alive? That’s impressive.”

I didn’t answer.

She strolled closer, her gaze running over me like I was a piece of dying prey. “You really don’t know when to stop clinging, do you?” She crouched by my bed, tilting her head. “Even if you die here, Marcus won’t shed a tear.”

I turned my head away, but she grabbed my chin, forcing me to meet her eyes.

“You’re really pitiful. An orphan clinging to a mate who never truly loved you. First your parents, and now your mate. You’ve got nothing left, Esther.” She smiled, sickly sweet. “So maybe I’ll help you along. End things a little quicker.”

I barely processed her words when a loud boom sounded.

The entire building shook.

Shouts rang out in the distance.

Ariella smirked at me before turning toward the window. The sound of snarls and breaking glass filled the clinic.

I pushed myself up, wincing at the burning in my chest.

“Rogues,” I whispered, staring out the small clinic window as shadows swarmed the perimeter. “How did they...?”

The clinic was under siege in seconds.

I could barely hold myself upright, let alone run. A rogue crashed through the clinic doors, snarling, blood dripping from its muzzle.

Grabbing a scalpel from the nearby tray with trembling hands, I scrambled backward.

Just as I thought we were done for, Marcus arrived.

He stormed through the broken entrance, his eyes scanning the chaos. When his gaze landed on me, for a heartbeat—I saw something flicker in his expression.

I thought maybe—just maybe—he would choose me this time.

But then Ariella screamed, “Marcus! Save me! The baby—!”

And just like that, his eyes left mine.

Without hesitation, he shifted into a massive gray wolf—and lunged toward Ariella, knocking a rogue away from her.

He didn’t look back.

He didn’t even hesitate.

I stood frozen, feeling breathless, surrounded by growls and howls and chaos.

The air was thick with the stench of blood and the growls of rogues tearing through the clinic.

Still, I fought.

I sank my teeth into one’s arm, clawed at another’s face, but I was too slow—too weak. My limbs wouldn’t respond the way they should. My vision kept tilting at the edges.

'Come on,' I begged internally. 'I need you—come out!'

Panic bloomed in my chest. 'Why won’t you come out?'

A snarl behind me. Then a rough yank as one of the rogues grabbed my hair and dragged me from the clinic, my knees scraping across broken glass and stone.

“Let—go—of me!” I screamed, thrashing, but it was useless. My strength was gone.

Without warning, the rogue hurled me like a rag doll. My body slammed into a tree with a sickening crack. The impact sent a sharp jolt of pain through my spine, and I collapsed to the ground, coughing violently.

Blood trickled down my chin. My vision flickered in and out.

Esther’s breath came in shallow gasps, her body trembling with each one. She could barely register the pain anymore—it had become a constant, a dull thrum beneath her skin.

The rogues were gone. Or maybe she was dying. It didn’t matter now.

A soft crunch of boots on gravel stirred her fading senses. A voice, deep and familiar, cut through the haze.

“Esther.”

She blinked, slowly lifting her head. Through the crimson veil of exhaustion, she saw him.

Stefano.

Older than she remembered, but unmistakable—tall, cloaked in black, silver lining the edges of his dark tunic, his eyes the color of storm clouds before a downpour.

“Stefano...?” she croaked. “What are—?”

He dropped to one knee beside her, his hands warm as he gathered her into his arms like she weighed nothing.

His jaw was clenched, eyes burning with urgency as he approached the edge of the forbidden path—the shimmering veil that marked the divide between the mortal world and the ancestral lands of Silverthorn.

The moment they crossed the border, the thick, enchanted mist gave way to towering obsidian trees and moon-drenched hills. Nestled within the shadows stood a grand mansion—black stone and silver trim. Torches ignited along the path as Stefano approached, their flames bending in reverence.

Pack members emerged from the surrounding woods. At the sight of him, they bowed low, fists to their hearts.

“Prepare the chamber,” Stefano called, his voice echoing.

Their eyes widened when they saw her.

A low murmur rose among them. “Our Queen has returned...”

Esther stirred in his arms, groaning faintly.

“Easy,” Stefano whispered, brushing a lock of hair from her face. “You’re safe.”

Her eyelids fluttered open, her gaze dazed and unfocused—until she saw them. Dozens of unfamiliar faces. And yet they were bowing to her. Their eyes were reverent.

“Wh...” Her voice cracked. “Why are they...?”

Stefano smiled softly, tightening his grip around her.

“Because they’ve been waiting for you.”

—

Marcus stood by the window of his office, staring out at the dark treetops swaying under the silver light of the moon. His reflection in the glass looked tired.

He exhaled sharply and turned. "Callen," he said, voice low.

His Beta, seated quietly by the bookshelf, straightened. "Alpha?"

Marcus hesitated, then ran a hand through his hair. "Go to the safe in the east wing and gather all the jewelry inside—my mother’s pendant, the gold cuffs from the eastern border alliance, the fire-opal ring... everything. Wrap them carefully."

Callen blinked, surprised. "All of it?"

"Yes. Then send it all to the old residence on Willow Ridge. That’s the only place she could’ve run to."

Callen nodded, rising silently before slipping out the door.

Marcus sighed. He was certain that once Esther received those things, she would come crawling back. It had always been that way. Just a little coaxing and she would give in.

On the other hand, Ariella who was curled on the couch by the fireplace looked at him, her expression was unreadable.

“Are you worried about her?” she asked softly.

Marcus turned toward her.

Her smile was soft—but it didn't reach her eyes. “Esther’s really lucky to have a mate like you.”

Marcus didn’t respond.

Ariella rose and walked toward him, stopping just short of his space. “If she’s refusing to come back because of me,” she whispered, “then I’ll just leave.”

Looking at her tear-stricken face, Marcus felt his heart melted.

Pulling her into his arms, he said firmly, “Don’t even think that way, Regardless of what Esther feels, this pack will be your home and our child’s.”

After calming Ariella down, he went to the balcony.

He pressed his hand on his heart and tried to feel the bond. It was still there, so it was impossible that Esther was dead. Still, he couldn't understand why she would disappear without a word. As his mate and the Luna of the pack, she should have been understanding. After all, what he did was all for the future of their pack.

With a frown, he attempted the mindlink.

'Esther? Can you hear me? I’m not in the mood for games. Tell me where you are—'

He faltered mid-sentence, struck by a sudden void.

He felt the wall. A complete block, like her entire sea of consciousness had vanished behind stone.

“Damn it! I can’t reach her,” he cursed under his breath.

Marcus pulled out his phone, jaw clenched, and typed.

[I don’t have time to play with you, Esther. Come back now.]

Still no reply.

The knot in his chest twisted tighter.

Just then, the doors burst open with a gust of wind.

An old man entered—tall, silver-haired, regal even in simple clothes. His presence silenced the room.

"Grandpa?" Marcus gawk at him in disbelief. “You... what are you doing here?”

The former regent Alpha king, who had vanished into seclusion years ago, ignored his grandson’s question.

“Where is she?” he asked coldly.