The Matriarch had also given me her word—when the time came, she would prove my innocence to all. What they thought of me no longer mattered.

I watched him with an expressionless face, let out a long breath, and turned to burrow into the furs of my sleeping nest.

"Do as you please. Whatever you want."

He thought I would lash out at Lyra Ashvale the way I used to—claws bared, fangs showing. His whole body went tense, and he planted himself firmly in front of her like a shield.

But when he saw me simply turn my back and lie down, every emotion on his face ground to a halt.

After a long silence, he spoke in a voice thick with disbelief.

"You... you're not angry?"

My tone stayed flat. "Haven't you always wanted me to get along with her peacefully?"

He exhaled and actually laughed with relief.

"You've finally learned. I knew you weren't truly cold-hearted. I'll make it up to you—I swear I will."

I didn't respond. I didn't look at him once, not even when they finally left.

A long time later, I pressed my palm against my chest where no flutter stirred.

So this was what letting go felt like.

Over the following days, guilt seemed to drive him. He visited me every few suns—met with cold silence, turned away at the door—yet he never lost patience. He just kept painting pictures of the beautiful life we'd share someday.

It wasn't until he brought up the pup's First Moon Celebration that his words turned hesitant.

"Lyra will never be able to claim her own blood-born pup in front of the pack. So I thought... while the pup is still too young to understand... I could let her attend the ceremony openly. As the mother."

"It would ease her sorrow, at least a little. Don't you think?"

My fingers never stopped working the bone needle through the memorial shroud I was stitching for Rowan. I didn't even lift my eyes.

"I told you—do as you please. This pup was never mine. Whatever you decide has nothing to do with me."

His throat worked. Red crept into the rims of his eyes, and a flicker of anger sparked beneath it. He snatched the offering cloth from my hands—the one meant for Rowan's cairn.

"Why have you been like this lately? Do you even understand what it means if she attends? It means the pack will see her as the Hawthorne Alpha's true mate. You never would have allowed that before."

I paused. Let my gaze drift to him with something close to boredom.

"And that's a problem? Two moons ago, when you were tangled in her bed, didn't you tell her it was such a pity you could never give her a proper place at your side?"

He went pale as carved stone, frozen where he stood.

I took the cloth back from his slack grip. My emotions stayed steady, as though nothing had happened at all.

He hovered at my ear after that, spilling excuse after excuse—he didn't love her, she'd slipped a heat-draught into his drink, he'd only taken her body because of the drug and felt obligated to take responsibility. The words made my stomach turn, but my silence defeated them all.

After that day, he stopped coming to see me.

But I often saw Lyra's posts on the pack's Howl-Channel—photo after photo of them together. They'd taken the pup to every portrait artist in the territory, posing as a perfect little family in every style imaginable.

The day I finally left my recovery den, the entire Hawthorne Pack was celebrating that bastard pup's First Moon.

The Matriarch sent word: the Bond Rejection would be sealed by tomorrow.

When I returned to the den to gather my things, I found that the chambers Fenris and I had once shared—our mating quarters—had been completely transformed into everything Lyra preferred.

Even the portrait that used to hang beside the hearth—Fenris cradling my swollen belly, his hands gentle over the life growing inside me—had been replaced. Now it showed him with Lyra and the pup. A perfect family portrait.

In the image, Fenris Hawthorne was smiling.

Smiling more brightly than he had the day I'd accepted his courtship claim.

I went to the sleeping chamber, meaning to take only the clothes I'd brought before our mating.

But no matter how I searched through the carved wooden wardrobes, I couldn't find it—the hand-embroidered ceremonial gown my mother had stitched for me with her own hands before she passed.

I was reaching for my communication crystal to ask when I saw it: a new post on the Howl-Channel. Lyra, wearing my mother's gown, standing at the First Moon Celebration.

Rage boiled up from somewhere deep.

I called for a runner and rushed to the great hall. There she was—arm linked through Fenris's, laughing prettily, accepting the pack's fawning congratulations like she'd earned every word.

When Fenris spotted me, guilt flickered across his face—but beneath it, I caught a gleam of smug satisfaction, as if he'd expected this all along.

He released Lyra and walked toward me.

"I knew you couldn't resist coming, but today is an important occasion for the pup. Don't—"

I didn't give him the chance to finish. I lunged toward Lyra Ashvale and struck her hard across the face.

"Remember your place as a hidden consort. Don't be like your mother, that old homewrecker, always coveting what belongs to others."

As I spoke, I pulled out the ceremonial shears and slashed through the traditional gown she wore.

The fabric tore with a satisfying rip, accompanied by her shrill scream as I ripped the garment apart.

"If you have nothing to wear, then stand bare. This was a gown my mother made for me. You're nothing but a secret Omega mistress—I'd rather destroy it than let you wear it!"

The gathering descended into chaos, yet the Matriarch Regent, who always valued the pack's reputation above all else, remained standing in place without intervening.

Fenris Hawthorne draped his coat over Lyra's shoulders and glared at me with fury burning in his golden eyes.

"How can you be so vicious? With so many pack members watching, where do you expect her to put her dignity? She only borrowed it for a moment. Do you really need to make such a scene over something so trivial?"

Watching him twist right and wrong so shamelessly, I let out a cold laugh. My hand moved swiftly, cutting off every button from the matching ceremonial shirt my mother had sewn for him with her own hands.

"You've forgotten the oath you swore to my mother—that you would treat me well for the rest of your life. It doesn't matter. I won't forget. What was between us is like this shirt now—our bond is severed, our ties cut completely!"

"May your little family enjoy a hundred years of happiness together."

With those words, I walked out amid the stunned silence of everyone present.

The full moon celebration didn't end well. Lyra fainted from emotional distress, and Fenris rushed her to the Healer's Ward.

The Matriarch Regent was left alone to host the remainder of the ceremony with the pup.

The next morning, I successfully obtained the Bond Rejection decree.

My communication device still showed messages from Fenris demanding I apologize.

I blocked and deleted him, then took the decree and went to the memorial grounds to visit my Rowan.

Half a moon cycle earlier, I had already asked the cairn keepers to erect his name-stone.

Looking at the carved words—Beloved Pup, Rowan Ashvale—endless grief flooded my heart.

I opened my mouth, about to say something.

From behind me came Fenris's voice.

"I knew you'd come here. Whenever you felt wronged before, you always came to see the pup. But yesterday you went too far. In front of everyone—"

Before he could finish, Lyra let out a dramatic gasp.

"Alpha, she actually gave that pup the same name as our pup!"

"Sister, even if you don't like that pup, you'll be his mother from now on. Why would you use the same name to curse him to an early death?"

Fenris frowned and stepped closer to read the carved name—Rowan Ashvale.

His gaze dropped lower, and he saw that only one name was listed as the one who raised the cairn: Mother—Selene Ashvale. His name was nowhere to be found.

The fact that the pup bore his mother's bloodline name instead of the Hawthorne line stirred a strange unease within him.

But that unease quickly dissolved in the sound of Lyra's weeping.

He fixed me with a furious stare.

"The pup's death is a wound in my heart too. But why did you act on your own? Are you trying to curse your own nephew to death?"

"I haven't even confronted you about humiliating Lyra in front of the entire pack yesterday. Do you think that because I love you, I'll tolerate anything from you?"

"I'm giving you ten minutes. Have the cairn keepers destroy this stone immediately. Once I've chosen a proper name, I'll have a new one erected!"

I looked coldly at this man who had once wept inconsolably after our son's death.

"And if I refuse?"

He froze, staring at me in disbelief.

After a long moment, deep disappointment filled his amber eyes.

He raised his hand, and three pack guards emerged from the carriage.

"Selene Ashvale, he was my pup. But Lyra's pup is also my pup. If you insist on doing this, then I'll have no choice but to dig up his cairn!"

"I'm sure his spirit would understand that I'm doing this to protect his younger brother. He wouldn't blame me."

Even though I already knew the ugliness of his true nature, hearing that he would desecrate my child's cairn for the sake of his mistress—all over a name—sent a sharp ache through my chest.

I watched his expression, so confident he had already won. He was certain I would yield to protect my son's resting place.

I smiled faintly.

Calmly, I reached into my cloak and pulled out the bond rejection decree, tossing it at his feet.

"I'm afraid, Alpha Heir, you no longer have any authority over what I name my child."

"Because as of one hour ago, we are no longer mates."