Evelyn’s POV

It took me an entire day before I could drag myself out of bed. My body ached with grief and weakness, but more than that, the weight of humiliation pressed me down like chains. Still, I forced myself to rise. Lying here forever would not change anything. I needed something—work, purpose, anything that would keep me from drowning.

Before I met Alpha Leo, before I ever set foot inside Sunray Pack, I worked as an assistant to a healer in a modest clinic beyond pack lands. When I left that place five years ago, I had been promised a job should I ever return. Maybe, just maybe, that promise still stood. And if I could get back to work, I could begin paying off the ridiculous debt they had shoved onto my shoulders. Little by little, piece by piece, I could rebuild.

So I made the call. The voice on the other end remembered me. There was even warmth there, a reminder that not everyone in this world despised my name. They invited me for an interview, and when I walked through those familiar clinic doors, I felt a strange sense of relief.

Shane, one of the healers I had once assisted, recognized me instantly. Her eyes widened, and she rushed forward, embracing me. “Evelyn! Goddess, it’s been so long. Or…” She hesitated, her lips trembling. “Should I call you Luna?”

The title pierced me like a blade. I shook my head, managing a small, brittle smile. “No. I’m no Luna anymore. Just Evelyn Lockheart.”

Her expression shifted to pity, but she did not argue. She only squeezed my hands and told me she hoped to work with me again.

I walked out of the interview certain I had secured the position. My hands had not forgotten how to grind herbs, how to read symptoms, how to tend to wounds. I could still be useful. For the first time in what felt like centuries, hope stirred faintly inside me.

But it did not last.

The rejection email arrived the next morning. Short, cold, final.

I called Shane immediately, confusion spilling from me in sharp, desperate words. “Why? You said— I thought— I was certain—”

Her voice cracked through the receiver. “Evelyn, I’m so sorry. Sophia Thompson called the clinic. She threatened that if we hired you, Sunray Pack would withdraw all their donations. We can’t afford that kind of loss.”

The phone slipped from my hand. I caught it before it hit the floor, clutching it to my chest as though that could steady the storm inside me. Sophia. Again. She had taken my mate, my home, my future—and now she had stripped away the one chance I had left at building a life for myself.

The laughter that broke out of me was sharp, ugly, half-crazed. I pressed a hand to my mouth, but the sound still escaped. What a pitiful creature I had become. Even cast aside, they would not leave me in peace.

When the laughter faded, I sat there trembling, and then I did the only thing I could think to do. I called Dave, my brother.

Three years ago, he had reached out after years of silence, bridging the distance that had formed since our clan’s fall. Since then, we had not lost contact. He was the one thread of family I still had left, the one soul who knew the truth of what it meant to be a Lockheart.

I told him everything. His silence was heavy, broken only by the sharp intake of breath. And then he said in a low, dangerous voice, “Three days, Evelyn. Hold on for three days. I’ll be there.”

Something in his tone steadied me. I wasn’t alone. Not entirely.

But before I could go to him, there was one thing I had to do.

I went to the hospital. The place where I had been told my baby was gone. The healers had preserved the remains in a vial, waiting for me to decide what to do with them. I couldn’t leave without my child. Not without giving them a proper burial.

The corridors smelled of antiseptic and wolfsbane, and each step made my chest ache. I clutched the claim papers tightly, ready to collect the only piece of my baby I had left.

But fate, it seemed, was not done tormenting me.

Because as I turned down the hall, I saw them.

Alpha Leo. And Sophia.

They were standing near the healer’s ward, their voices low but not low enough. I froze, unable to move, unable to breathe, as Sophia laughed softly and placed a hand on her belly.

Leo’s voice, once so warm when it spoke my name, now cut like knives. “This baby,” he said, “is the replacement for what I lost with Evelyn.”

My vision spun. The floor tilted beneath me. The world roared in my ears.

Replacement.

Sophia’s smile gleamed like polished gold. She leaned into him, her voice dripping with sweetness. “And I’ll give you the heir you deserve.”

A gasp tore from me before I could stop it. I stumbled backward, heart slamming against my ribs, eyes burning with tears. They both turned their heads, but I didn’t stay long enough to see their expressions.

I ran.

The papers crumpled in my fist as I bolted down the hallway. My chest ached, my wolf howled in grief, and the world blurred as I shoved open the hospital doors.

In my desperation, I crashed straight into someone. My bag slipped from my shoulder, spilling its contents across the polished floor.

“I—I’m sorry,” I stammered, dropping to my knees to gather my things.

The stranger crouched with me, his hands steady, careful as he helped collect the scattered items. And then, as his fingers brushed mine, it happened again.

That faint green glow.

On my wrist, beneath my skin, the light flickered—bright and pulsing—for just a second longer than before. My breath caught, and my gaze snapped to his face.

Blue eyes. Striking, piercing, locked onto mine with an intensity that rooted me to the spot.

For a heartbeat, I felt something. Recognition, maybe. A spark that my wolf responded to with a startled thrum.

But just as quickly as it came, it vanished. The glow dimmed, his eyes dropped back to the scattered items, and reality returned.

“Here,” he said simply, his voice deep, steady. He handed me the last of my things before standing.

“Thank you,” I whispered, my voice hoarse.

But he was already walking away, his broad shoulders disappearing into the crowd of the hospital.

Evelyn’s POV

I froze the moment I stepped into the packhouse courtyard. The sharp smell of smoke clawed at my nose, stinging more than fire ever could. My heart lurched painfully against my ribs as my eyes landed on the pile of burning fabric, charred books, and scattered keepsakes—my things. My life.

“No…” I stumbled forward, my throat tightening.

One of the omegas stood nearby with a bucket in her hands, looking guilty as a pup caught stealing food. “Luna—” she hesitated, then corrected herself, “Evelyn… I’m sorry. It was Lady Sophia’s order before she left with Alpha Leo. She said… she said your scent lingered too much on your belongings. She didn’t want it around.”

My wolf snarled inside me, low and bitter, but I clenched my jaw to keep from showing it. I dropped to my knees, shoving the bucket out of the omega’s hands and dousing the fire with all my strength. Steam hissed into the night air, the last embers fighting against the sudden flood.

I coughed through the smoke and began pulling things out, desperate, frantic. My hands trembled as I dragged soggy clothes and blackened books aside. The fabrics disintegrated in my grip. The journals I had kept, the dresses I wore at ceremonies, even the apron I used in the healer’s clinic… all ruined, ashes clinging to my fingers like ghosts.

“Moon goddess, no…” I whispered, choking on tears.

And then I saw it—the letters. The ones Alpha Leo wrote to me when we were newly married, when he made me believe I was his choice, his partner, his Luna. The paper was soaked and crumbling, edges curling from the fire. I lifted one carefully, but only fragments remained. On the corner, a single sentence survived: I will always stay with you.

The words cut me deeper than flames ever could.

I held the scrap close, my tears dripping onto it. My wolf whimpered, pressing against my chest. For a heartbeat, I thought I saw him—Leo’s younger self, the version of him who once held me with tenderness. A flicker of a boy who promised forever. He stood in my vision, crouching to touch the burnt letters, his hand brushing over the gifts he once gave me.

A faint green glow pulsed through my veins, racing down to my wrist. It shimmered for a second, lighting up like a fragile ember before vanishing just as quickly. My body shook with the effort of containing everything—rage, grief, longing, disgust.

“Enough,” I whispered to myself. “No more.”

That night, I sat on the floor of my room, what little was left of it, and texted my brother with trembling fingers. At dawn, I’m leaving. Be at the border. Please.

Dave replied almost instantly. I’ll be there.

Relief washed through me, but so did dread. Leaving meant abandoning everything I once dreamed of. Leaving meant facing a future where I was no longer Luna, no longer Alpha Leo’s wife, no longer a part of Sunray Pack. My wolf stirred, reminding me that leaving also meant survival.

I planned to rise before the others, slip away before anyone could stop me. But fate rarely lets plans stay neat.

Sometime in the dead of night, I woke with my head pounding, my vision hazy. My eyes burned as if someone had poured sand into them, but I forced myself to get up, to move. My throat felt dry, so I headed for the kitchen.

Halfway down the hall, I froze.

Soft moans drifted through the silence, muffled at first, then clearer. The sounds came from the Alpha’s chambers—the door was ajar. I didn’t want to hear it. Moon goddess knows, I tried not to. But my wolf’s heightened hearing made it impossible to block out.

Sophia’s voice floated out, breathless and sharp. “Leo… oh, Leo…”

And his voice. The man I once trusted. The man who vowed before the Moon goddess to protect me. His groans were raw, primal, and then his words, seared into my soul like knives, “I got so tired of Evelyn being boring in bed,” he said between heavy breaths. “She was never enough for me. Not like you.”

Sophia laughed, a cruel, mocking sound.

“And her baby…” Leo’s voice dropped lower, filled with venom. “I’m glad it didn’t survive. I didn’t want that cursed blood anyway. This baby—our baby—this one will be perfect.”

Their laughter followed, tangled with the sounds of their bodies moving against each other.

My stomach twisted violently. I covered my mouth to keep the sob from escaping, but tears streamed freely down my face. My wolf howled inside, a cry of grief and fury, demanding I fight, demanding I tear down that door and end them both. But I was too broken, too tired.

I stumbled back, each step heavier than the last. My heart pounded against my chest as if it wanted to burst free and run without me.

In the main hall, my eyes landed on the massive portrait hanging on the wall. A painted memory of Alpha Leo and me, smiling as though we were blessed by eternity itself. I stared at the woman in the painting, naïve, hopeful, blind.

With shaking hands, I grabbed a knife from the nearby table. My wolf urged me on, and I obeyed. With one swift motion, I slashed an X across the canvas, tearing through our painted faces. The ripping sound was almost cathartic, like a final breath of something that should have died long ago.

I dropped the knife, staring at the ruined portrait as Sophia’s moans echoed faintly in the distance.

“Goodbye,” I whispered.

Gathering what little courage I had left, I stepped out of the packhouse with nothing but my phone and the clothes on my back. My wolf pressed close, lending me her strength. Each step away from that cursed place felt like shedding another chain.

The night air was cold, but it tasted of freedom.

When I reached the border, headlights cut through the darkness. My brother’s car. Dave stepped out, his eyes wide with worry the moment he saw me.

“Evelyn.” His voice cracked. He rushed to me, wrapping me in his arms. “You look… gods, you look broken.”

I buried my face into his shoulder, inhaling the familiar scent of family, of safety. “I can’t stay here, Dave. Take me out of here.”

“I will,” he said firmly. “You’re now escaping this hell, Eve.”

I pulled back, glancing one last time toward the packhouse. The tall walls stood like shadows against the moonlight, hiding the laughter of two traitors who thought they’d won.

But they hadn’t. Not truly.

Because for the first time in years, I was choosing myself. And one day, when I came back—stronger, unbroken—they would regret every word, every laugh, every betrayal.

With that silent vow burning in my chest, I got into Dave’s car and never looked back again.