For fifteen years, I was the Luna who never raised her voice. I tended to the den, raised our son, kept the traditions alive, and told myself that was enough.

I served them with all my heart and soul, almost forgetting myself.

But this morning, after catching my reflection in the mirror, with tired eyes, gray strands in my hair, and the face of a woman who looked more like a servant than a Luna, I decided I wanted something.

Just once, something for myself.

Today was my mating anniversary with Adrian. For the first time in years, I wanted to speak to him not as his Luna, not as the Alpha’s wife, but as his mate.

I found him in his office, surrounded by paper and the sharp scent of ink. He didn’t even look up when I entered.

"Do you remember Anna and Kayleigh?" I asked softly. "My best friends in high school."

Adrian kept his eyes on the documents, seemingly uncaring of my arrival. But I knew he was listening, so I continued.

“Well… we haven’t seen each other for fifteen years. Anna invited me over for a reunion. I was hoping—”

“Didn’t you see them ten years ago?” His tone was flat, irritated.

“Yes, for a few hours after Kayleigh gave birth. But that was—”

He finally looked at me, and the curve of his lips was anything but kind. "So, what are you really saying, Clara?"

I steadied myself. "I was thinking… after everything I’ve done here in the pack, maybe I could take a short break. Just a few days with them. To breathe. To feel like myself again."

He leaned back in his chair, amber eyes cold and hard. "Clara, you know what comes with your position. You know you can’t leave your place without any notice."

"I am giving you notice. Besides, I’m not leaving, Adrian. I’m just taking a few days off, just a vacation."

He dropped the pen onto the desk with a sharp click. "Vacation? Is that what you call it? So now you think I’m overworking you? That I’m not giving you enough?"

"That’s not what I said," I whispered.

“Then what?” His voice rose, sharp as claws. "You’ve had everything here. A high status, security, comfort. Do you even hear yourself? Acting like you’re suffering? You sound ungrateful."

"I never said I was suffering," I murmured. "I only wanted—"

“You always want.” He cut me off, his voice biting. "It’s always about what you want. You are very selfish, not even considering the people working hard around you. You’re very much unlike Lyanna, who always thinks about the pack before making decisions."

The name pierced me deeper than any blade. Lyanna was my cousin, and she had always been everyone’s ideal woman. She was beautiful, smart, and brave.

The woman they all whispered should have been Luna.

My father, Marcus, heard Adrian’s voice and looked into the room. His sudden appearance startled me, and I accidentally tipped the glass near Adrian’s table.

Adrian exclaimed, “Clara, what are you doing? These are important documents! You—”

“I’m sorry. I…”

Adrian pushed me away as he salvaged the remaining dry documents.

"Clumsy," Marcus spat. "Just a simple thing and you make a mess like this. And you call yourself Luna? What a disgrace."

Since Adrian wouldn’t let me get close to him, I went to clean the glass shards. I bent down to pick up the pieces, but my hands shook so badly the shards dug into my skin. Blood spilled fast, pooling on the gray stone.

Neither of them moved.

Adrian only mocked. "You can’t even do proper cleaning, and now you’ve bloodied the floor. You better go out and call a servant. They do a better job than you, and they never ask for a holiday."

Marcus scoffed. "She’s always been like this. Dead weight. I told you years ago, Adrian, you should have chosen Lyanna. You’d have a Luna who commands respect, not one who hides in the shadows."

Lyanna. Always Lyanna. The daughter Marcus wished he had. The Luna Adrian secretly wished to marry.

I pressed the broken shard into my palm until the numbness drowned out the pain.

At the sink, I rinsed the blood away. The water ran red, then faded. In the darkened window, my reflection stared back with bent shoulders and lifeless eyes, a stranger I barely recognized.

A knock echoed through the den. It was firm and confident.

Marcus’s face lit up with sudden approval. Adrian’s lips curled into something close to relief.

I didn’t need to open the door to know who it was.

Lyanna entered the den as though it were her own home.

Her stride was confident, graceful, and deliberate, each step carrying the weight of someone who had always been the object of admiration.

Marcus’s sour demeanor shifted almost instantly as his stern features softened into something close to pride. Adrian stood as well, his lips curving into a smile I hadn’t seen directed at me in years.

“Lyanna,” my father greeted warmly. “You’re here.”

“Welcome,” Adrian added, his voice low but threaded with approval. “You didn’t even say you were coming.”

I sat in silence as they exchanged greetings and embraced, nearly swallowed by the shadows of the room. Their joy and warmth barely brushed past me, as though I had become part of the furniture.

As if I am just an object to be ignored rather than a woman to be seen.

The sound of hurried footsteps broke the moment. My son, Jeremy, came darting from his room, his eyes alight with excitement as he rushed toward Lyanna.

“Aunt Lyanna!” He cried, flinging his small arms around her waist.

Lyanna’s laugh rang out, light and musical. She bent down to gather him into her arms, brushing her fingers through his hair with tenderness.

“Jeremy, you’ve grown so much. What a fine young man you are becoming.”

His eyes sparkled with pride at her words, and something inside me twisted painfully. My son had never greeted me that way, not even after days apart.

At that moment, they looked more like mother and child than I did with him, though I was his true mother.

Lyanna straightened, glowing beneath their adoration. Then, as if only just noticing me, she let her smile soften.

“Clara,” she said sweetly. “How are you?”

I forced my voice steady. “I’m fine.”

She tilted her head, feigning concern as her gaze lingered on me. “Are you sure? You don’t sound fine.”

Her words hung in the air like bait, and Adrian seized them without hesitation. He set aside the papers in his hand, his amber eyes narrowing in irritation.

“Of course, she isn’t fine,” he said sharply. “She’s been talking about taking a vacation, complaining about being overworked.”

My father’s scoff cut deeper than claws. His disappointment was sharp and merciless. “A vacation? From what, exactly? From cleaning up her own messes? From pretending to be Luna when she can barely carry herself as one?”

Heat burned along my neck and ears. My hands curled into fists at my sides, though my voice barely carried beyond a whisper. “I wasn’t complaining—”

Lyanna lifted her hand gently, silencing me with practiced grace.

“I think Clara does deserve a little break,” she said lightly, her tone carrying a false generosity. “Don’t you? I can take over her responsibilities while she enjoys herself for once.”

Adrian’s bitter laugh cut her suggestion to pieces.

“You? Take over her duties?” He shook his head, his voice hardening. “Lyanna, if anyone deserves a break, it’s you. You’ve been working harder than anyone.”

Marcus nodded firmly, his voice laden with approval. “Adrian’s right. Clara barely manages the simplest tasks, but Lyanna commands respect. She puts the pack before herself. You should be the one resting, not her.”

Lyanna lowered her lashes, her smile modest but calculated.

“It’s not hard work if you love it,” she murmured softly. “I don’t even think of it as work at all.”

Their admiration filled the room like a chorus. Marcus showered her with praise, Adrian added his approval, and Jeremy clung to her hand as though she were a goddess made flesh.

And me? I remained where I was, a shadow against the wall.

Lyanna glanced at her wristwatch before clapping her hands together lightly.

“Speaking of work,” she said brightly, “I reserved a restaurant for tonight. Why don’t we all go out for dinner?”

Marcus raised an eyebrow. “What’s the occasion?”

Her eyes glittered as she announced, “I’ve just been promoted. And with an increased salary.”

The room erupted with joy.

Adrian turned to me, his tone clipped and final. “We’re going out for dinner.”

Panic surged through me, my heart racing as I stepped forward quickly, the words spilling out before I could stop them.

“Adrian, wait. Today is our mating anniversary. I prepared a feast for us at home. Just for us.”

Lyanna gasped, covering her mouth in feigned surprise.

“Oh, I didn’t realize!” she exclaimed gently. “Then I’ll go alone tonight. We can celebrate together next time.”

Her voice dripped with false sweetness, her posture radiating the air of someone making a noble sacrifice.

Adrian’s brow furrowed, his lips pressed into a thin, displeased line.

Marcus scoffed harshly. “A feast? Don’t make me laugh. Clara can’t even cook properly. Whatever she made probably tastes like garbage. It’s better we go out with Lyanna than waste our time here.”

The words cracked against me like whips, each one sharper than the last.

Adrian’s gaze settled on me, cold as stone, his voice merciless. “Get ready, Clara. Or we’ll leave you behind.”

The restaurant was more luxurious than I expected.

From the moment we walked in, I felt out of place. The scent of wine and roasted meat filled the air, but instead of stirring hunger, it knotted my stomach tighter.

“Miss Lyanna,” the hostess greeted with an eager smile, bowing slightly as though she had been expecting her. “What an honor. Your table is ready.”

“Thank you,” Lyanna replied, her voice lilting like music.

Marcus and Adrian both straightened at her side, their faces proud, as if they were the ones being honored. I walked behind them, nothing more than a shadow trailing after the people who should have been my family.

Jeremy clung to Lyanna’s hand, tugging her along with boyish excitement. His laughter rang out, drawing affectionate glances from strangers at nearby tables.

When we reached the table, the staff pulled out chairs with practiced grace. One for Marcus, one for Adrian, one for Lyanna. They seated her between the two of them, as though she were the centerpiece of our group. Jeremy scrambled into the chair beside her before I could even move closer.

That left me at the far end of the table, across from no one, half-hidden in the shadows of the candles. The chair scraped against the floor as I pulled it out myself, the sound sharp and lonely.

The waiter arrived, tall and professional, notepad in hand. His gaze settled immediately on Lyanna.

“Shall I bring the wine list?” he asked.

“Yes, please,” she said warmly. “Something smooth and rich, don’t you think, Adrian?”

Adrian chuckled, leaning closer to her. “I’ll trust your judgment, Lyanna. You’ve always had exquisite taste.”

Marcus nodded at once, as though Lyanna had spoken some profound wisdom. I stayed quiet, though a voice inside me longed to say something.

Maybe I wanted a lighter drink. But before I could speak, Adrian waved his hand dismissively.

“Lyanna will order for everyone. She knows what’s best.”

The words sank into me like a stone sinking into cold water.

When the waiter asked about food, I tried again. “Could we add a simple chicken dish—”

“That won’t suit the evening,” Marcus cut in sharply. “Don’t ruin the celebration with something so plain.”

Lyanna leaned forward with a soft laugh. “I was thinking of the lobster. It’s always been my favorite here.”

My chest tightened.

“I can’t eat shellfish,” I whispered, my voice barely audible. “It makes me sick.”

But Adrian gave me a hard look, his lips pressed thin. “Don’t start this again, Clara. Stop making everything about yourself.”

Marcus sighed, visibly annoyed. “You’ll be fine if you don’t overreact. You’ve always exaggerated these little things.”

Lyanna tilted her head, her expression the picture of innocence. “Oh dear, I didn’t realize. Are you sure it’s that serious?”

“Yes, it is—”

Adrian cut me off, sharp. “You’ll eat something else, then. The rest of us will have the lobster.”

The waiter glanced at me briefly, uncertainty flickering in his eyes, but when no one else spoke up for me, he nodded and wrote the order.

I sat back in my chair, my stomach twisting.

They had just ordered the very thing that could harm me, dismissing my words as if I were nothing more than a petty inconvenience. The humiliation burned deeper than hunger ever could.

When the first round of wine arrived, the table bloomed with conversation. Lyanna spoke about her promotion, about the responsibilities she had taken on with such grace and dedication.

“It wasn’t easy,” she admitted modestly, lowering her lashes. “But I tried my best, and it seems it has been rewarded.”

Marcus’s face softened into admiration. “You’re an inspiration, Lyanna. Truly. The pack is lucky to have you.”

Jeremy piped up eagerly. “Aunt Lyanna, you’re amazing!”

The three of them laughed, warmth glowing in their eyes, pride flowing freely. I sat in silence at the edge of the table, clutching my glass with both hands to hide the trembling in my fingers.

Every word of praise heaped on her carved another wound in me, another reminder of how little I mattered.

When the waiter returned with the main dishes, the scent of lobster filled the air, buttery and rich. Plates gleamed with shells and lemon wedges, steaming and perfect.

Only my dish was different.

It was a plain salad, hastily arranged, set in front of me like an afterthought. There was not even a hint of chicken on it.

Jeremy scrunched his nose. “Why aren’t you eating the same as us, Mama? Didn’t you want lobster?”

Before I could answer, Marcus scoffed. “She’s just being difficult again. Don’t pay it any mind.”

Lyanna reached over, placing a gentle hand on Jeremy’s. “Your mother just has different tastes, darling. Don’t worry.”

Her words weren’t kindness.

They were pity wrapped in sweetness, designed to make her shine brighter while highlighting my failures. My cheeks burned as Jeremy nodded, still clinging to her hand more than mine.

The laughter, the clinking of glasses, the endless praise for Lyanna filled the night.

When dessert arrived, it came with sparklers and clapping from the staff. A small cake, topped with cream, was placed proudly in front of Lyanna.

“Congratulations on your promotion!” the waiter announced cheerfully.

The table erupted again with joy. Lyanna leaned close to Jeremy, pulling him toward her with a radiant smile.

“Help me blow out the candle, Jeremy,” she whispered.

He did. His small breath joined hers, the flame snuffed out in perfect unison, a picture of mother and son.

I could not move.

My fork lay useless in my hand as I watched, my heart shattering with every cheer, every laugh, every congratulation that did not belong to me. No one remembered that tonight was supposed to be my mating anniversary.

The feast I had prepared sat at home, waiting for a family who never intended to come.

When the applause quieted, Adrian raised his glass toward Lyanna.

“Thank you,” he said, his voice carrying the weight of sincerity I hadn’t heard from him in years. “For bringing us all together tonight.”

The wine burned as I swallowed it down, bitter and sharp, but it was nothing compared to the bitterness lodged in my chest.

That’s when I felt a sudden fire in my throat as I started to choke.