Elara’s eyes fluttered open to the pale silver of the Healers’ Hall. The air smelled of wolfsbane and crushed herbs, sterile and cold.

A shadow fell across her bedside, and for a heartbeat she thought it was Xander. But when her gaze cleared, it was only the Healer, his eyes filled with quiet pity.

“Luna Ashveil,” he murmured, bowing low. “We tried all our healing runes, but we could not save the pup. You… miscarried last night in your Alpha’s carriage.”

Elara stared blankly.

“Pup?” Her lips trembled. “I… was with child?” Her claws dug into the blanket, trembling.

The healer hesitated. “The sleeping pill you consumed was laced with potent dreambane. It was meant for wolves thrice your size. Combined with the rot in your womb… it was too much for the fetus.”

Before her shock could fade, the door swung open. The scent of lilies—funeral flowers—drifted through the air as Xander entered, his expression carved in marble.

“You’re awake,” he said softly. “Do not worry. I’m here now.”

His thumb brushed against her cheek, and for a fleeting moment, hope flickered in her chest — fragile, desperate.

“Xander… I—I need to tell you that I lost our pup—”

“You are overthinking,” he interrupted, his sigh gentle but sharp enough to silence her. He dismissed the healer with a flick of his hand.

“About last night,” he said evenly, “I have spoken to the children. It was nothing serious. A childish prank gone wrong. They didn’t know those pills would cause internal bleeding. Now that you are fine, there is no reason to make them suffer for a mistake.”

Elara’s body shook violently.

“They suffered? And what about me?!”

Her voice rose, startling even him. But Xander merely tucked a strand of her pale hair behind her ear, pulling her close.

“You’re strong enough to handle it,” he murmured. “Accidents happen. For me… for the pack’s sake, let it go.”

The room spun. The child she had lost wasn’t even mourned, and yet the ones who had caused it were protected like jewels.

Her mind drifted to that night years ago, when his eyes had been soft — when she had believed him kind. The Ashveil Elders had demanded she bear more heirs, but Xander had refused, holding her close and whispering:

“I can’t let you suffer, Elara. The moon’s burden is cruel. We’ll try one time, through spell-binding, not the old way. You won’t endure that pain again.”

Back then, she thought he was saving her. When the healers declared her with pup, Elara had wept with joy. She endured the fevers, the swelling, the agony of carrying three lives within her body. She nearly died giving birth beneath the Blood Moon — her blood soaking the birthing furs. Yet she smiled through it all, for him, for their children.

And now that sacrifice was dust.

A sharp pain twisted her chest. She coughed, blood staining the snow-white sheets.

“Elara!”

Xander’s roar shook the hall. He caught her as she fell, his arms tightening around her trembling frame.

“Healers! Get your best team here!”

His command echoed through the corridors, rattling even the moonstone pillars. For one fleeting heartbeat, Elara thought she mattered — that he truly cared. His thumb brushed the blood from her lips as his aura pulsed with Alpha power, fierce and raw.

Her breaths came shallow and broken. Somewhere in her heart, she wished that the boy who once pressed bread through iron bars still lived inside him.

Then Xander’s communicator crystal flared.

Ravenna.

He hesitated — only for a moment — then answered.

“What? You injured your ankle?” His jaw clenched. “Stay there. I’m coming.”

He looked once more at Elara, still gasping in his arms, then turned to the nearest healer.

“Take good care of my Luna. Don’t let anything happen to her.”

And with that, he laid her gently on the bed and strode out — his steps urgent, but not for her. For Ravenna.

Hours bled into each other. Her pulse steadied, her breathing softened. The room was silent save for the hum of runes and the steady drip of moonlight through the window.

Then her crystal tablet chimed.

Projected in shimmering light were images of Ravenna, perched upon another man’s lap, a goblet of silverwine in her hand and victory gleaming in her eyes. The caption beneath burned through Elara’s heart:

“Once, he abandoned a million-moonmark deal because I was scratched. After five years, nothing has changed. The place in his heart will always be mine.”

Below the post flowed comments from Xander’s childhood allies — wolves Elara had once treated as brothers, cooked for, nursed through wounds.

“The perfect couple. How could an orphaned she-wolf ever compare?”

“We await your wedding beneath the Blood Moon.”

“The manor by the river — of course he gifted it to his beloved.”

Elara felt nothing. Just the ache of emptiness.

In the blurred background of those images, she recognized the Silvervale Manor — the one he had promised her years ago. She remembered his whisper against her hair that night:

“A home for my Luna.”

Yet she had never been allowed to cross its threshold. Each time she asked, he smiled faintly.

“Not yet. The time isn’t right.”

Now she knew why.

This time, she did not cry. She merely pressed her trembling fingers to the glowing screen and liked the post — even added a comment.

[Congratulations.]

The hall went silent across the moonlink. Every voice stilled.

All this time, she had suffered for nothing but illusions.

Without hesitation, Elara summoned her communicator — its surface glowing with the sigil of the most feared wolf in the kingdom, the rogue Alpha who ruled the black markets of the Shadowlands.

Her voice was hoarse but steady.

“I was blind before,” she whispered. “Help me file for separation. As for custody — there’s no need. The pups were never mine.”

She paused, her gaze cold as moonlight.

“In return… this body you once desired, I’ll give it to you.”

On the day of her discharge, Elara expected to return home quietly. But instead of heading toward their villa, the stablehand stopped outside a brightly lit Lunar Fairground.

“Luna, Alpha Ashveil is waiting for you.” Elara froze. The bright colors, the laughter of strangers, all of it felt jarring to her still-weak body. She shook her head. “No. Just take me home.”

Before the steward could answer, Xander’s tall figure appeared by the carriage. He opened the door himself, his hand gripping her wrist with quiet force.

“Don’t make a scene. Come with me.” he said, his tone brooking no refusal.

“My scribe mentioned that you booked this entire fair for the pups’ birthday revels. Since Ravenna happens to share the same date, I thought it better to celebrate together. It’s livelier that way.”

Elara’s skin burned with fury the moment she heard those words.

Five years ago she had begged Xander to let the pups stay nine moons in her womb but he had cut her off.

“Seven moons is enough. Deliver them now.”

For the sake of the pups, she had bitten her tongue, believing there must be some medicinal reason and nearly died, her body torn. It was only now she realised that it wasn’t an accident.

It was all so that the triplets shared their birth-night with Ravenna.

Absolutely shameless!

Xander took her inside and gestured toward a side corridor. “Wait for me in the private booth. I will bring the pups after they finish their ride.”

At first Elara had a strong urge to walk away but she stopped herself. She needed irrefutable proof that could give her solid grounds to secure her separation swiftly.

Reluctantly, she stepped forward.

But just as her hand touched the carved door, muffled sounds reached her ears — low gasps, the rustle of fabric.

She froze.

For a moment, she thought she had taken the wrong turn. But through the crack, she saw Ravenna with two strange men, their shirts torn open amidst rough breathing filling the air.

Ravenna leaned lazily against them, her lips red, her throat marked with fresh bites as if she hadn’t even bothered to hide them.

Elara’s chest tightened.

Something was wrong. Terribly wrong.

She turned on her heel to leave but a hand shot out from inside, dragging her violently in.

The next second, the door burst open. Xander strode in with the children. They saw Ravenna collapsed to the floor, shaking at Elara’s feet. Her garments were all torn, exposing more than she intended.

“Luna Ashveil, I was wrong! I will never dare touch what belongs to you.”

Elara’s heart stopped. She wanted to speak, to explain, to shove the world’s cruelty away but Xander’s icy gaze pinned her like a bird in a snare.

“Luna. Ashveil please take me to the Healers, the pills you forced into my mouth to make me surely bear…after all the men are done abusing me… I… I can’t let them…! I will rather die!”

Elara opened her mouth, but the words didn’t come. Her throat felt as if it had been sealed shut as tears streamed down Ravenna’s face; her voice was barely a whisper as she rushed to Xander and collapsed in his arms trembling.

“Xander, I only came back because my ex-mate abused me… please don’t let these men take advantage of me.”

In between the sobs Elara saw the small smile forming on Ravenna’s lips and her entire reasoning snapped.

“I took advantage of you??” Elara asked, her voice low.

“You even ordered them to film it and post it upon the moonlink… I was wrong to post pictures with Xander.”

Xander’s jaw tightened. His gaze shifted from the tiny crystal camera whirring in the corner to Elara, disbelief hardening into icy fury.

“Shut up!” Elara raged. “It was Xander who told me that you would accompany us when we reached here! How could I know it beforehand unless I am some seer!”

Unexpectedly before she could speak anymore, the triplets pointed at Elara, their childish voices unusually firm.

“Mother, you’re so mean!”

“Yes! Mother, aren’t you the one who said that there would be a great show today! How could we have known she would hurt Aunt Ravenna? It was… it was your all doings, Mother!”

The men in the room froze and then, almost simultaneously, they bowed deeply.

“Alpha Ashveil, it was her indeed! If we had known Ravenna was your woman, we wouldn’t dare touch her even if we had a hundred guts!”

One of them fumbled, then produced a small recording crystal. A chilling voice played through the speaker in Elara’s unmistakable tone, calm and commanding, “Make sure she suffers. Don’t let her walk away. Record everything.”

Elara’s eyes widened as she looked at the trap which was so intricately planned to ruin her before a small miserable smile covered her features.

“All this effort to ruin me… just for a title? What a serpent you are—”

Smack!

The slap landed with a shattering crack, the sound ripping through the booth like thunder.

Elara hit the floor hard, the taste of iron spreading in her mouth.

Ravenna, who had been crying, suddenly fell quiet and gave a cruel smile as Xander stood over Elara, staring at her fiercely.

When Elara turned toward him, blood trickled from her lip and her eyes were empty, as if she had been emptied by terror. Xander froze, his hand still raised, a strange guilt clouding him.

“So in the end you believe her? If anyone saw, they’d think she’s your true Luna and I’m the mistress!”

Xander’s look turned cold and steady. “Is this how low you’ll go?”

His voice was calm, but each word cut like a blade.

He made a sharp gesture. The two men in the booth were hauled away, their protests lost under his order.

Xander moved closer until Elara couldn’t step back. “Did you strip Ravenna… did you enjoy putting her down?” he asked softly, hard.

“Now it’s your turn.”

Elara’s chest tightened. She shook her head, voice breaking, “No, please stop!”

Suddenly Xander grabbed her roughly. The sound of tearing fabric filled the booth.

Elara convulsed, her heart racing as the same hands that once touched her gently now forced her, rough and angry, leaving red marks on her skin.

Hot tears ran down her face as she gasped and sobbed.

“Xander… what are you doing? Please, don’t—” Her cries were ignored; she felt herself being torn apart inside.

His eyes did not soften. “You wanted to ruin her honor… now you will live that shame. Every moment. Every shred.”

A crystal camera in the corner whirred on, recording everything—her fear, her shame, her collapse.

“You wanted a show, right? Today I’ll teach you a lesson you’ll never forget.”

Before Elara could react, Xander yanked her arms with an iron grip, dragging her out into the moon-drenched night.

Panic surged through her as she struggled, but her strength was no match for his Alpha power. He hauled her toward the Oblivion Spiral, a forbidden ride that had claimed countless lives—wolves torn apart, bones shattered, screams swallowed by the wind.

“Once, I saved you from being dishonored by strangers,” Xander’s voice was low, venom lacing each word, “Who knew you would one day use the same vile trick—drugging another to steal her fertility.”

Ignoring her gut-wrenching protests, he fastened the iron restraints over her arms and chest, the runic belts biting into her bruised skin.

His cold eyes gleamed beneath the silver moonlight, hand hovering above the enchanted control sigil like a man ready to deliver a sentence.

Elara turned toward the triplets—their faces she had once kissed a thousand times—now watching her with quiet accusation.

She opened her mouth to speak, but no sound came. The mark of his disbelief was already burned into her.

The ride roared to life with a screech of metal and a surge of arcane power. Wheels screamed, chains rattled and the world spun violently.

“This is what it feels like to betray an Alpha,” Xander’s voice echoed through the night. “To destroy trust. Every bruise—you have earned it.”

The winds lashed at her hair; the cold steel cut into her skin. The longer it went, the more the pain bled into numbness. The moon above blurred into streaks of white.

From the ground, the children watched wide-eyed as their mother’s cries faded into the howl of the storm.

“Brother,” whispered the smallest one, clutching his twin’s sleeve, “Mother looks so sad… Are we wrong?”

“N-No,” the eldest replied, trembling, “Father said Aunt Ravenna knows best, so we must listen to her. She said Mother is wicked, so it must be true. Mother will forgive us later. She always does.”

Xander never shouted. He stood before the sigil board in silence, eyes fixed on the spinning cage of steel and magic, watching as Elara’s body endured wave after wave of agony. The woman he once held as sacred was now a broken shadow of herself, stripped of dignity, of warmth, of name.

When at last the ride groaned to a stop, Elara hung limply against the harness—skin raw, lips bloodied, hair tangled with frost and dust.

The Alpha who once promised her the world stood unmoving. His expression unreadable.

“All your debts,” Elara murmured through blood-stained lips, “I have repaid them now.”

Those were her last words before her world went dark.

Three nights later, Elara awoke to the faint shimmer of dawnlight through gauzy curtains. Her body felt like it had been torn apart and pieced back together by trembling hands.

Blinking through the haze, she saw Xander seated beside her bed—unshaven, eyes rimmed red, exhaustion etched deep into his face.

The moment she stirred, he lunged forward, gripping her hand with desperate relief.

“Elara! You’re awake!” His voice cracked, almost human again. He turned sharply. “Healer! Now!”

Within moments, the pack’s chief healer hurried in with scrolls and elixirs, his brows furrowed.

“Alpha Ashveil,” he began cautiously, “for the Luna to have endured such trauma—her life is no longer sustained by strength alone. Her blood disease—”

“It’s nothing,” Elara interrupted weakly, her voice calm but hollow. “Just exhaustion.”

The healer hesitated, glancing between the two, then bowed and withdrew silently. The room fell into thick, suffocating quiet.

Xander exhaled hard. Without a word, he lifted a tray from the table—soup, honeyed bread, and crushed herbs for pain. He scooped a spoonful and raised it toward her lips.

“Eat,” he said softly. His fingers brushed hers—too gentle, too late. “Tell me… how do you feel?”

Elara didn’t answer. Her eyes were glassy, unfocused, gazing somewhere beyond the walls, beyond the moon, as if seeing something Xander could never reach again.

Then, the door creaked open.

Ravenna stepped inside, cloaked in pale silk, her eyes glistening as she dragged a small travel trunk behind her.

“Elara…” she whispered, voice trembling with practiced fragility. “I—I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean for things to go so far.”

Her gaze flickered toward Xander, hopeful. “But, Xander… you promised I could stay. I have nowhere else to go.”

Elara turned her head slowly toward her. Her voice was quiet, detached. “I see. She’s already moved in.”

Xander’s brows knit tightly, his tone low but commanding. “Now isn’t the time, Ravenna. Elara needs rest.”

The faint glint of victory in Ravenna’s eyes vanished instantly. “But—”

“Wait outside.”

Ravenna froze. The steel in his tone left no room for disobedience. Her lips parted, but she swallowed whatever argument she had and left, the door clicking shut behind her.

Only the two of them remained.

Xander lowered himself to his knees beside her bed. His voice was softer now, carrying the faintest edge of regret.

“Elara, for what happened to you that day… if you apologize to Ravenna sincerely, I will let it go.”