I called Darren Silver my mate and husband for five years, but on our fifth wedding anniversary I found out he never registered our marriage.

We never had a real wedding. Just the plain gold ring he gave me and a paper we both signed in our room to show for years of dedication.

“We’re already bonded, Nova. When the time is right, we will have a real ceremony.”

I believed him for five years as he kept saying we would get to it eventually, that it could wait until he took over as Alpha and the pack settled down. Later never came.

I remembered asking him about it just a week ago. I was folding his shirts when I finally found the nerve.

“Darren… do you think, maybe this year, we could finally have a ceremony for our fifth anniversary? Just do it properly in front of the pack.”

He didn’t look up from his laptop.

“Why? We’re already bonded.”

“But you said we would once things settled—”

“And now you’re being difficult.” His fingers paused over the keys. “Drop it, Nova. With the constant rogue attacks, the pack needs to prepare for the worst, not throw a feast.”

I swallowed it. I always did.

But today was different. He would be home after two days handling matters at the borders. I decided to prepare something nice for dinner to welcome him and celebrate our five years together.

I was still smiling about tonight’s dinner when I passed the Pack Registry Hall downtown.

I saw Darren standing on the marble steps in his best coat, the one I pressed for him last week. And next to him, holding his arm like she had done it a thousand times before, was Briar, my adopted sister.

She vanished five years ago and never once called, never once wrote, never once let me know if she was alive or dead.

My bags hit the ground. Everything I bought rolled into the gutter. I didn’t move to pick it up.

“Are you sure we can get this certificate?” Briar’s voice floated down to me. “What about your Nova? You’re still legally tied to her, aren’t you?”

“I don’t care about her.” Darren’s voice came fast. “That bond was never real. That’s why I never registered our marriage. What I have with you is real, and now that you’re finally back, I’ll deal with Nova soon.”

My ears rang. My vision tilted.

“You mean that?” Briar’s voice trembled. “Even after I ran without a word?”

He turned toward her and smiled. “It was always going to be you. You don’t have to feel guilty anymore. I understand why you left.”

He kissed her passionately. A breath caught painfully in my throat.

She pulled back just enough to whisper, “And Nova? Did you ever have real feelings for her?”

He laughed dismissively. “Never. I never saw her as anything more than a placeholder while I worked hard to be worthy of you.”

The world went very quiet as I struggled to digest his words.

Five years ago, Briar vanished without a word. Our parents had been furious. They called her ungrateful, selfish, and even said she was dead to them. I was the only one who searched for her, hired private investigators until every lead turned cold. I grieved her. I defended her memory even when our parents refused to speak her name.

And now she stood here, five years later, holding the hand of the man I called my mate like it was the most natural thing in the world.

And Darren? I stood by him for five years, waking at dawn to run the pack accounts, smiling through the rumors that called me the weak one, the half-blood who got lucky. I wore his ring. I built my life around the promise that one day the paperwork would catch up to the bond I felt.

Staring at the gold band on my wrist, I wanted to scream. I wanted my wolf to rip through my skin right there on the sidewalk. Heat flooded my chest, then drained so fast my knees nearly buckled.

“What about the ceremony?” A familiar voice cut through their joy. Marcus. My father.

“Just make sure Nova doesn’t find out,” Erin, my mother, said. “She’ll make a scene. I think it’s best we sell her off to the black market or feed her to the rogues before she catches on to anything.”

I stopped breathing as all four of them laughed.

My parents—blood of my blood—who had spent five years pretending to hate and disown Briar, now laughed with her and my mate while they planned to erase me.

The pretense cracked open in that single moment. All those years of anger had been a performance. They had known. Or they had chosen this the second she reappeared.

Slowly, I backed away and ran. I wasn’t sure where I was going, only that it couldn’t be here.

The street blurred past me. Strangers stepped aside for a woman who must have looked half out of her mind. My chest burned. My vision swam. The gold ring dug into my finger with every swing of my arm.

I didn’t hear the engine until it was almost on top of me.

Headlights flared white. The world spun sideways. Something in my hip screamed as I hit the ground and rolled. Metal shrieked. Pain exploded through my side and lower belly, sharp and final. Tires screeched. Voices shouted somewhere far away.

I tried to push myself up. My arms refused. Warm wetness spread across my clothes. The last thing I felt was the ring still locked on my finger as the asphalt rose up to meet me again.

I opened my eyes slowly. The ceiling swam into focus. I was in a hospital room. My whole body felt like it had been run through a wood chipper and put back together wrong.

“You’re awake.” A pack nurse leaned over me, her voice gentle. “Nova, I need you to stay calm.”

“Where—” My voice came out as a rasp. “Where’s Darren?”

She didn’t answer right away. That silence was answer enough.

“You were in a car accident,” she said instead. “You lost a lot of blood. We managed to stabilize you, but…” She paused, choosing her next words carefully. “I’m so sorry. You lost the pregnancy.”

The words hit me like a second crash.

Pregnant.

I hadn’t known. There had been no signs I recognized, no morning sickness, no shift in my scent that I had noticed. One moment I was a woman who had just discovered her mate never registered their marriage and was already replacing her. Now, I was a woman who lost a child she had no idea about, after years of miscarriages.

I didn’t cry. I had used up every tear on that sidewalk. Now there was only a cold, expanding emptiness where something I never even knew existed had been taken.

“Can I have my phone?” I questioned.

The pack nurse hesitated, then handed it over. My hands shook so badly I could barely unlock it. I called Darren. It rang and rang and went to voicemail. I called again. Voicemail. I called my dad. Nothing. My mom. Nothing.

“I can’t get through to either of them,” I whispered, more to myself than to her.

The nurse’s face filled with a kind that showed she knew more than she should.

“A doctor brought you in himself last night,” she said, changing the subject. “He’s the reason you’re alive. You lost so much blood on a back road in the dark, you shouldn’t have made it.”

“A doctor?”

“He didn’t leave a name. Just said he’d come back to check on you. One thing is for sure, he’s not from any neighboring pack.”

I didn’t have the energy to ask more. My mind stayed locked on one question—why wasn’t anyone answering? Even if Darren had already chosen Briar, even if the whole family had decided I was disposable, wouldn’t someone at least check whether I was still breathing after an accident?

I scrolled through the pack’s shared social feed with hands that wouldn’t stop trembling.

And there, I found a photo that had been taken at a lake somewhere upstate. Four familiar faces squeezed together, grinning at the camera. Darren’s arm around Briar’s shoulders. My father mid-laugh and my mom holding up a fish she clearly hadn’t caught.

The caption read: *Family trip. First one in five years!!*

The photo had been posted six hours ago, while I was fighting for my life.

I carefully set the phone down on the blanket, because if I didn’t, I might throw it through the window.

I didn’t know how long I lay there staring at the ceiling, letting that image burn itself into the back of my eyes. Long enough that the door finally burst open and the room filled with noise.

“Nova! Oh my god, are you okay?” Briar rushed in first, her face a perfect mask of worry, hands pressed to her mouth like she was about to faint from concern.

Darren came right behind her. Mom and Dad trailed in after, all wearing the exact expressions I now recognized for what they were; a performance.

“We came as soon as we heard,” Darren said, taking my hand like it was the most natural thing in the world. “Baby, I’m so sorry. If I’d known—”

If I’d known. As if he hadn’t stood on the Pack Registry steps less than a day ago promising to “deal with Nova soon.”

I knew everything now. I knew about the marriage that was never registered. I knew my own parents had laughed about selling me off before I could make a scene.

I knew all of that, but I didn’t say anything. Something told me to wait, watch, and learn exactly how far they would go.

“I’m tired,” I said instead, pulling my hand back gently. “Can someone help me to the bathroom?”

Briar practically shoved Darren out of the way to do it herself—all soft concern and gentle hands guiding me up, playing the devoted sister so well that if I hadn’t already known the truth, I might have believed it.

She walked me halfway down the hall, chattering about how worried she had been, how she had come the second she heard.

Then my knees buckled, just a small stumble as my body was still weak from the blood loss. I needed one more second of support before I could stand steady again, but Briar let go instantly and stepped back like I was contagious.

I felt myself start to fall.

“Oh—I think I hear Darren calling me,” she said, already turning away, already walking back toward the room. “You’ve got this, right? You’re basically fine.”

I caught myself against the railing, breathing hard. Humiliation and fury mixed low in my chest with the fresh, sharp grief of a loss I hadn’t even known was possible until an hour ago.

This was who they were. This was who they had always been, and I had been too in love to see it.

“Easy.”

A hand caught my elbow before I could go down all the way.

I looked up. It took me a second to place him, but it was Callum, a face I hadn’t seen in years. He looked at me carefully, like he was checking for damage no scan could find.

“Callum?” I breathed.

He gave me a small, tired smile. “Yes. It’s me, Nova.”

The nurse’s words from earlier came back all at once—a doctor had brought me in himself and said he would come back to check on me.

Of course it was him.

Before I could say another word, footsteps echoed down the hall behind us. Darren’s voice called my name possessively, like he still had any right to sound that way.

Callum didn’t let go of my arm. If anything, his grip tightened, as if he already knew exactly who was coming and exactly what he thought of him.

“We need to talk,” he said quietly.

I didn’t get the chance to answer before Darren rounded the corner and stopped dead in his tracks, staring at the two of us like he was seeing a ghost.

Darren’s face went through three expressions in half a second—shock, suspicion, and jealousy all at once.

“Callum.” His voice was tight. “What are you doing here?”

“My job,” Callum said calmly. He didn’t let go of my arm. “I’m the doctor who brought your mate in last night. You’d know that if you’d answered your phone.”

The silence after that landed like a slap. Something flickered across Darren’s face.

“We were dealing with a family emergency,” he said. “Briar collapsed from shifting for the first time. We couldn’t just drop everything.”

You could have answered a phone call.

I didn’t say it out loud. I didn’t say anything at all. I just let him see me standing there, held up by a man who wasn’t him.

Briar reappeared at Darren’s shoulder, all wide eyes and trembling lips, as if she hadn’t abandoned me in a hospital hallway two minutes earlier.

“Nova, I’m so glad you’re okay,” she said. “I was so worried.”

I almost laughed, but I held it back. Laughing would mean giving her a reaction, and I had decided I was done handing my reactions out for free.

“I’m tired,” I said again, and this time it was true in more ways than one. “I want to go back to my room.”

Callum walked me there himself, ignoring the way Darren trailed behind us like a shadow that had forgotten it wasn’t wanted. At the door, Callum finally let go of my arm, but he didn’t leave.

“Five minutes,” he told Darren. “Doctor’s orders.”

Darren’s jaw tightened, but something about Callum made him back off. He retreated down the hall with Briar trailing after him, already whispering in his ear.

Once we were alone, Callum pulled the door shut and turned to me. For the first time since I woke up in this place, someone looked at me like I wasn’t invisible.

“You remember me,” he said.

“Of course I remember you.”

How could I forget the boy who once told me my wolf’s quiet scent was the only one he ever wanted, right before I chose someone who promised me a whole pack instead of just himself.

“You left.”

“I had to.” Something painful crossed his face, gone before I could read it fully. “That’s not why I’m here now. I’m leaving the city again in five days. I came to tell you that… and to tell you something else.”

He paused, weighing the words even though he had clearly already decided to say them.

“You don’t have to stay here, Nova. Not in this pack and not with him. I’m inviting you back with me to the Lycan Kingdom. There, no one will treat you like a placeholder. You can finally be yourself. You can design the life you actually wanted instead of the one they decided for you.”

My chest went tight. “Why would you do that?”

“Because five years ago I watched you choose a life that was supposed to make you happy, and instead it’s made you miserable every single time I’ve seen you since.” His voice didn’t waver. “I’m not asking for anything in return. Just an open door, if you want to walk through it.”

Part of me wanted to say yes immediately—to grab his hand and leave this hospital and never look back. But another part, the part that had spent five years building something (however fake it turned out to be), needed time to let it die properly before I left the body behind.

“I need a few days,” I said. “There are things I have to handle first.”

He nodded, as if he had expected exactly that answer. “Five days. I’ll be ready whenever you are.”

He left before Darren could come barging back in demanding explanations.

Two days later I was discharged. No one came to pick me up, so I took a cab home.

I reached the apartment door and stopped with my hand on the handle. Voices carried clearly from inside.

“—all those miscarriages weren’t accidents,” Darren was saying, low and casual. “You both know that. We made sure nothing stuck. Last thing we needed was a pup tying her to me for good.

Father’s voice followed. “We did what was necessary. When Briar left, you needed a temporary claim to keep the Alpha path open. Nova was useful. A child would have complicated everything once Briar came back.”

Mother spoke next. “We helped Briar leave cleanly. She needed time. We always knew she and Darren were the real mates. We just… managed the situation until she was ready to return.”

Briar’s soft laugh floated through the door. “And you still made him give Nova the ring. You organized the whole thing.”

“Of course we did,” Father said. “It kept the pack stable. It kept Darren’s claim intact. Now that you’re home, we can finally correct the mistake.”

I stood frozen on the wrong side of the door, the words carving through me one by one.

Every miscarriage. Every quiet hope that had ended in blood, all of it was arranged by my parents, who helped Briar disappear, stayed silent while I fell in love with her true mate, and then engineered a marriage they never intended to last. They had handed me a ring and a role, knowing I was only ever a placeholder until the favourite daughter returned.

After a while, I pushed the door open.

Briar was curled on my couch in one of my old sweaters, laughing at something on her phone while Darren leaned over her shoulder.

Mom and dad were in the kitchen, raiding what was left of the wolfsbane-free honey I had bought.

No one asked how I was feeling. No one asked about the hospital or the drive home.

“Nova!” Briar hopped up and threw her arms around me in a performative hug. “How are you feeling? We would’ve come to get you, but Darren said you’d want your space.”

I glanced at Darren. He didn’t meet my eyes.

“I’m fine,” I said flatly, stepping back out of her arms.

Briar’s face did something small before smoothing back into sweetness. “I’m just so glad you’re okay. I felt awful hearing what happened. Really, I did.”

“Did you?” It wasn’t a question.

The air in the room changed. Dad straightened from the counter while mom set down the honey jar. All three of them looked at me like I had said something dangerous, when all I had done was stop pretending to believe her.

“Nova.” Darren’s voice carried a warning. “Don’t start.”

Don’t start. Like I was the one who had been lying for five years. Like I was the one who had filed a marriage certificate behind someone’s back and then made sure no child could ever make the lie permanent.

I opened my mouth, ready to say everything I had been holding since the sidewalk outside the Pack Registry Hall. That was when Briar swayed on her feet, pressed a hand to her forehead, and dropped gracefully onto the arm of the couch.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured in a trembling voice. “I just get so dizzy since the turning. I didn’t mean to upset anyone.”

Instantly, all three of them were at her side. Darren crouched in front of her, murmuring soft reassurances. Dad fetched water and mom hovered, glaring at me as if I had made her dizzy simply by existing.

I stood in the middle of the living room, completely forgotten, and understood with perfect clarity how the rest of the night—and the rest of my time here—was going to go.

I went to my room instead of watching the show.

I opened the door and stopped cold.

My things were gone. My photos. My pillows. The soft gray blanket I had owned since before I ever met Darren. All of it now replaced with Briar’s clothes that hung in my closet. Her perfume sat on my dresser where my jewelry box used to be.

Three days, I thought. They didn’t know it yet. But I was already gone.