Caelia’s POV

Everything unraveled in a blur.

One second I was sprinting through the edge of the territory, lungs burning, branches whipping past me—and the next, pain exploded everywhere. Teeth sank into my skin. Claws ripped through muscle. Their snarls swallowed my screams as I fell, blood streaking down my arms, my ribs, my legs, soaking into the ground beneath me.

I fought back. I really did. My wolf slammed against my chest, desperate to break free, but my body couldn’t keep up. There were too many of them. I was too slow, too weak. Every strike tore me open again, and with each wound, I felt myself fading, strength draining until the earth beneath me was slick and dark.

That was when I understood.

I wasn’t surviving this.

My vision smeared at the edges. The metallic taste of blood coated my tongue. My knees gave out, and somewhere deep inside, my wolf cried out—her voice growing faint.

This is how it ends.

Darkness swallowed everything.

---

When I woke, it wasn’t to glowing eyes or snapping jaws.

It was white walls. Blinding lights. The sterile sting of antiseptic in the air. A hospital room.

Pain radiated through my body, dulled but constant, wrapped in bandages and stitches. Somehow, impossibly, I was still breathing.

I blinked, my thoughts slow and foggy. “W-where am I…?”

“You’ve regained consciousness,” a gentle voice replied. A nurse stepped into view, her expression careful, almost mournful. “You suffered severe blood loss, but you’re stable now. You were brought in by another Alpha. He found you near the border… saved your life.”

I barely processed that before she hesitated, fingers tightening around her clipboard.

“There’s something else,” she said quietly. “You were approximately one month along. The trauma was too much. I’m very sorry—the pregnancy couldn’t be saved.”

The words didn’t make sense at first.

Pregnant?

My chest constricted as the meaning crashed down on me. I hadn’t known. There had been no signs, no warning. And now—

“No,” I breathed, clutching the sheets as if they could anchor me. “Please… no…”

The sound that tore out of me didn’t feel human. A baby. My baby. Gone before I’d even had the chance to feel it, to protect it. The pain hollowed me out, sharper than the wounds on my body. I hadn’t just lost blood that night—I had lost something irreplaceable.

The nurse rested a hand on my arm. “You need to rest. Healing takes time.”

But how did someone recover when the damage ran deeper than flesh?

---

Time blurred after that. Hours, maybe days—it all melted together.

What I did notice was the scent.

It lingered faintly on my skin, woven into the sheets, unmistakable. Alpha scent. Strong. Steady. Earth and storm and pine. It grounded me without trying.

It wasn’t Lucien.

Someone else had brought me here.

Whoever he was… why had he bothered?

With shaking fingers, I reached for my phone. If anyone should know I was alive, it was my husband. My Alpha.

I called him.

Once.

Again.

And again.

Each unanswered ring tightened the knot in my chest.

Swallowing panic, I opened my social media, hoping—desperately—to send him a message.

Instead, the screen shattered what little composure I had left.

A post. Public. Fresh.

Calista.

She stood beside Lucien, both of them relaxed, smiling effortlessly. They were on a yacht, ocean stretching endlessly behind them. His arm rested around her waist as if it belonged there.

The caption felt like a knife driven straight through me.

Counting down to our wedding ceremony.

My phone slipped from my hand.

The room closed in as I struggled to breathe. While I had been torn apart at the border—while I lost a child I hadn’t even known existed—he had been with her. Laughing. Planning a future.

I folded into myself, sobs wracking my body. I thought I’d already reached the limit of how much betrayal I could endure.

I was wrong.

---

The door flew open.

Lucien stormed inside, anger etched into every line of his face. “Why didn’t you make more of an effort to reach me when you were in danger?”

His tone cut deeper than claws ever had.

I flinched, staring at him. Words gathered in my throat and died there. What was I supposed to say? That I had screamed his name? That I had called until my hands shook and my vision blurred?

My silence only fueled his irritation. He crossed his arms, looming. “Do you have any idea how irresponsible that was? Going anywhere near the border without protection? You never think these things through.”

Something inside me finally gave way.

Even now—after everything—he wasn’t worried about me. Only about what I’d done wrong.

“So it’s on me,” I murmured, eyes fixed on the blanket. “Almost dying was my mistake too.”

He didn’t argue.

Instead, he exhaled sharply and pulled a container from the bag he carried. “I brought you something to eat.”

He opened it.

Carrot soup.

Of course it was.

Carrot—every time. Always what she liked. Always her.

My hands trembled as he lifted the spoon toward my mouth. My stomach twisted violently. I couldn’t. I wouldn’t.

Before the spoon reached me, the door burst open once more.

“Alpha!” Beta Noel rushed in, panic written across his face. “Lady Calista collapsed!”

Lucien dropped the spoon instantly. No hesitation. No backward glance. No concern for me at all. He turned and left with Noel, already barking orders, his footsteps fading down the hall.

I was alone again.

The numbness that settled over me was worse than the pain. There was nothing left to shatter—only emptiness.

Then I felt it.

That scent again.

Stronger this time. Commanding. Wild pine and rain and something untamed beneath it. My wolf stirred weakly, recognition flaring, pulling toward it.

A man stood in the doorway, leaning casually against the frame, arms folded as he studied me. There was no mistaking it—he was an Alpha. His presence filled the room effortlessly, heavy and undeniable. Long dark hair framed sharp features, his expression calm but intense.

And his eyes—

They burned with something that made my heart stutter.

“Want some help disappearing from that excuse of an Alpha you’re tied to?” he asked, voice low and smooth, curling through the air.

My breath caught.

My wolf pressed forward, fully alert now, captivated.

And for the first time in years, something stirred inside my chest that wasn’t grief or pain.

It was hope.

Caelia’s POV

His name was Cassian.

At first glance, I almost didn’t recognize him. He stood framed in the hospital doorway, his presence pressing down on the room like a tangible force. Power clung to him effortlessly—coiled, controlled, undeniable. His dark hair fell past his shoulders, his posture straight and assured, his eyes sharp with authority. This was not the Cassian I remembered.

Once, years ago, he had been a frequent guest in my parents’ pack. My father—though never an Alpha—had been respected for his mind. He had taught strategy, negotiation, and battlefield foresight, and Cassian, despite coming from a far stronger and more influential pack, had listened to him with earnest attention. He had sat at our table, asked questions, absorbed every lesson.

Back then, Cassian had been different.

Gentler. Awkward in a charming way. Always buried in books, spectacles sliding down his nose, his frame too slender to match the title he was born into. No one would have guessed that the quiet heir would grow into a man who carried command so naturally, so decisively. Leadership had reshaped him, hardened him, turned the boy I once knew into something formidable.

“You…” My voice betrayed me the moment I spoke. “Cassian… is that really you?”

The corner of his mouth lifted, subtle but genuine. “Looks like you didn’t forget me after all.”

Forget him? Impossible. He was the same boy who used to sneak extra sweet buns from my mother’s kitchen just for me. Yet the man before me bore no trace of that innocence. He was Alpha through and through—and when he spoke again, my heart faltered.

“Want out?” he asked calmly. “I can get you away from that excuse of an Alpha.”

Those words stayed with me long after he left, echoing in my mind during the days that followed. I hadn’t agreed right away. I’d asked for time instead, my voice barely steady.

“Seven days,” I had said quietly. “Just give me a week. I need to finish things here.”

Cassian hadn’t pushed. He hadn’t argued. He’d simply nodded, unwavering. “I’ll be there when you’re ready. I’m not going anywhere.”

---

I remained in the hospital for three more days. My body recovered faster than my heart ever could. I mourned in silence—the child I never knew I carried, the marriage I thought was real, the betrayal that replayed endlessly behind my closed eyes.

When the healers finally discharged me, I returned to the packhouse feeling heavier than when I’d left.

The moment I stepped inside, I stopped short.

Laughter filled the space. The main hall was bright, the central table overflowing with food as if a celebration were underway. Sitting there together were Alpha Lucien, Beta Noel—and her.

Calista.

The laughter died instantly. Every gaze swung toward me.

“Oh,” Lucien said after a brief pause, sounding mildly inconvenienced. “You’re back already. You should’ve let me know.”

As if I needed permission to return to my own home.

I didn’t respond. My attention was fixed on Calista.

She sat close to him, composed and radiant, a delicate smile playing on her lips. Her posture was relaxed, confident—like she belonged exactly where she was.

Lucien shifted, clearing his throat. “Caelia, this is Calista. An old friend from my childhood. She’ll be staying here for a while. She’s recovering—from an incident. Some kind of sorcery attack recently.”

Sorcery. The word nearly drew a bitter laugh from me, but I swallowed it down.

“I know who she is,” I said evenly. “You two were… close. A long time ago.”

“Yes,” he replied too quickly. “That’s right. She’s been through enough already. That’s why I left the other day—she needed me. Your little trip to the border…” He waved it off. “I knew you’d survive. None of this would’ve happened if you’d just stayed away from dangerous areas.”

My breath hitched.

He was blaming me.

My wounds still ached beneath the bandages. The emptiness in my womb throbbed like a fresh wound.

“I didn’t just get hurt,” I said, my voice shaking despite my effort. “I lost something. I lost our child—”

Before I could finish, Calista gasped sharply.

Her hand flew to her chest. “Alpha—oh no—it’s happening again,” she cried weakly. “My condition—!”

She sagged dramatically, her face pale, her body trembling.

Instantly, the room revolved around her.

Lucien was at her side in seconds, gripping her shoulders. “Easy. I’m here. You’re safe.”

“No,” I whispered, stepping forward. “Please—listen—I lost our—”

But I might as well have been invisible.

His entire world narrowed to her. To her shaking hands. To her tears.

The words about our baby withered in my throat, crushed beneath his indifference.

So I turned away.

---

Upstairs, I went straight to my room—the only place that had ever felt like mine.

Or so I thought.

The door swung open to emptiness.

The furniture remained, but everything else was gone. My clothes. My books. The keepsakes I’d brought from my parents’ pack. Every trace of me erased. The room felt stripped, unfamiliar.

It hit me then.

I no longer belonged here.

I sensed her before I heard her.

“Surprised?” Calista’s voice floated behind me, sweet and smug. “Lucien said this room suited me better. More space. More comfort. More appropriate.”

She stepped closer, satisfaction shining in her eyes. “It was always supposed to be mine anyway. I left once, yes—but you took everything while I was gone. Even him.”

Her tone was venomous beneath the sweetness. In that moment, I saw through the act. She wasn’t fragile. She wasn’t a victim. She was a wolf reclaiming territory—no matter who she crushed along the way.

“So tell me,” I asked quietly, turning to face her. “This illness of yours… is it real?”

For a heartbeat, her composure cracked.

Then her face crumpled as if on command. Tears spilled freely. “How could you say that?” she cried loudly. “After everything I’ve suffered?”

Her sobs echoed down the hallway—too loud, too deliberate.

And right on cue, Lucien appeared.

His concern went straight to her. His anger went straight to me.

“What did you do to her?” he demanded.

“I didn’t—”

“She accused me!” Calista wailed, clinging to him. “She said I was pretending just to steal you from her. She hates me! She wants to destroy us!”

“That’s not true!” I yelled, panic rising—but it didn’t matter.

Lucien’s expression hardened. He grabbed my hand suddenly, his grip brutal. Pain shot through me as he yanked the ring from my finger.

The ring.

The plain silver band he’d given me three years ago. The one he promised would someday be replaced by a Luna’s crown.

He slipped it into his pocket without hesitation. “You’re no longer worthy of wearing this.”

And just like that, the last fragile thread binding me to him snapped.

I stood there empty, finally understanding the truth.

Every promise.

Every vow.

Every dream I had held onto—

All of it had been a lie.

Caelia’s POV

I wasn’t sleeping in my own room anymore.

That realization cut deeper than any injury I’d sustained, deeper than the gashes that had nearly ended my life weeks earlier. They had relocated me to a guest room—four bare walls, a narrow bed, no trace of warmth or belonging. Nothing about it felt like home. My belongings were packed into boxes, stacked neatly as if I were nothing more than a temporary visitor. A stray passing through.

And Calista—she had taken my place.

She slept in my room.

In my bed.

The very space where I had once dared to imagine a future—where I’d pictured raising pups with Alpha Lucien, where I’d whispered dreams into the dark, believing they mattered.

I folded my clothes slowly, carefully, as though the simple act of order might keep me from falling apart. Each garment carried memories stitched into its seams. A scarf I wore when he smiled at me once—just once. A shirt I’d worn on a night I thought we were happy. Ghosts clung to everything, tugging painfully at what little remained of my composure.

Cassian’s words resurfaced again and again in my mind. One message, and I’ll come. He had said it without hesitation, without doubt. If I reached out, he would take me away from all of this—from Lucien, from this suffocating pack, from the slow erosion of my soul. The thought made my heart quake. And yet, my fingers never typed the message. Pride—or perhaps foolish hope—held me back. Some naïve part of me still waited for Lucien to choose me.

Footsteps echoed outside, snapping me from my thoughts. A sharp clink followed—the sound of metal against stone. A delivery.

Curiosity tugged at me despite myself. I went downstairs, my steps hesitant, until I reached the entrance of the packhouse.

The mailbox sat there, unremarkable.

Until I opened it.

Inside was a velvet box.

My breath caught. My hands trembled as I lifted the lid.

A ring lay nestled inside.

No—not just any ring.

My ring.

The one I had designed myself, sketch after sketch, obsessing over every curve of the band, every angle of the diamonds. I’d once shown the design to Lucien half-jokingly, half-hoping, telling him that if we ever had a real wedding, this was the ring I wanted to wear.

And now it existed.

Perfect. Tangible.

Tears burned behind my eyes. Was this his way of making amends? A silent apology? Proof that he was finally ready to acknowledge me—to give me the ceremony, the bond, the marriage I’d waited years for?

My wolf stirred weakly inside me, a flicker of hope sparking after weeks of numb despair.

I slid the ring onto my finger.

It fit as though it had always belonged there.

Then his scent crashed into the room.

Lucien.

His presence swept through the hall like a storm front, sharp and overwhelming. His eyes locked onto the ring, and the warmth I’d been yearning for was nowhere to be found. Rage twisted his expression.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he barked.

I stared at him, stunned. “What—? Lucien, it’s my ring. My design. You had it made for me… didn’t you?”

His jaw clenched hard. “That ring isn’t yours.”

The words struck like a blade.

“Not… mine?” My voice fractured. “Then why does it exist? Aren’t you finally ready to marry me properly? Is that not why—”

“Marry you?” He scoffed harshly, raking a hand through his hair. “We’re already married, Caelia. Don’t start inventing problems.”

Married.

That word again. Always thrown at me like a shield. A contract signed in ink, absent of vows, ceremony, or respect. A marriage that existed only on paper.

Before I could respond, a familiar, cloyingly sweet voice slipped into the air.

“Isn’t that the ring I asked for?”

Calista.

She approached slowly, her complexion pale, her eyes glassy with well-practiced fragility. Her gaze latched onto the ring with unmistakable ownership, and my stomach churned.

I instinctively stepped back, clutching my hand to my chest. “No. That ring is mine. I designed it long before you ever returned—”

“Enough.” Lucien’s voice thundered through the room, cutting me off. His glare was sharp, directed solely at me. “Give it to Calista. You know she’s unwell. She deserves it more than you.”

The floor seemed to tilt beneath my feet.

“She deserves it?” I whispered, disbelief choking me. “The ring I created? The one meant to symbolize my place beside you? You’re giving it to her?”

His face hardened. “Her condition is serious. I’ll do whatever it takes to ease her suffering. If this ring brings her comfort, then it’s worth it.”

Something inside me fractured completely.

“You’d do anything for her,” I said quietly. “A grand ring. A lavish wedding. Everything I begged for—yet you couldn’t spare even a ceremony for me.”

“Because you’re not dying!” he snapped. “You don’t need those things.”

Silence swallowed the room.

My hands shook uncontrollably. My chest rose and fell too fast, too shallow.

Calista leaned into him, lashes lowered. A single tear slid down her cheek. “I never meant to cause conflict,” she murmured softly. “I only wanted to borrow him for a little while. Just one beautiful wedding… just to feel cherished before it’s too late. Is that really so wrong?”

Borrow him.

The word echoed cruelly.

Something in me broke loose—a bitter, hollow laugh escaped my throat. “There’s no need to borrow,” I said shakily. “Take him. Take the ring. Take the room. Take everything. I’m finished fighting for scraps.”

I turned away before the tears could spill any further.

Upstairs, I gathered everything tied to him—clothes he’d gifted me, letters filled with empty promises, trinkets meant to tether me to hope. I carried them to the furnace room, my limbs heavy, my heart numb.

The flames roared as I fed them piece by piece. Each item burned away—lies, dreams, a marriage that had never truly existed. Smoke stung my eyes, but I refused to look away.

Then arms wrapped around me from behind.

Lucien.

His scent engulfed me as he held me tightly. “Caelia—stop,” he pleaded, his voice unexpectedly soft. “I never wanted things to go this far. I just… I can’t let Calista die.”

His lips brushed my hair as his grip tightened. “I’ll make it right. I promise. I’ll take you out—just us. A real date.”

I didn’t respond.

I didn’t have the strength to.

That night, sleep came fitfully. I was dragged from it by his frantic shaking.

“Wake up!” he urged urgently.

My eyes fluttered open. “What’s wrong?”

His face was pale, fear blazing in his eyes. “Her condition has worsened. The healers say there’s only one solution.”

A chill crept through me. “What solution?”

His hands tightened on my shoulders. “Your wolf core.”

Everything inside me froze.

“You have to give it to her,” he said desperately. “If you don’t, she won’t survive. You’ll live—just without your power. Please. Don’t let her die.”

My wolf screamed in agony, betrayal ripping through me.

I stared at him, truly seeing him for the first time.

He wasn’t asking.

He was taking.

And in that moment, I understood the truth at last—

To him, I was nothing more than something to be used.