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.

Caelia’s POV

I had grown up knowing, the same way every wolf did, that our core was sacred. From the time we were pups, it was drilled into us—protect it at all costs, guard it like your very soul, because in truth, that’s exactly what it was. A wolf without a core was incomplete. Stripped of it, we lost our strength, our fire, our very identity. And still… they decided mine was expendable.

Lucien claimed there was no other option. Saving Calista, he said, required my wolf core. When I told him no, his temper erupted, sharp and violent, his words crashing down like a storm.

“You only care about yourself,” he snarled. “So you’d really let her die instead?”

The pain in my chest was unbearable, my wolf raging and clawing inside me, screaming that this was wrong. But I refused to bend. “You don’t get to take this from me,” I said, my voice shaking but firm. “My core is my life. It’s who I am. You don’t have the right to demand it.”

I shouldn’t have said demand. Because he never intended to ask.

His command was swift. His warriors seized me, their grips unforgiving as they hauled me through the halls and into the hospital. I fought them, flailed until my muscles burned, but it was useless. Cold restraints bit into my wrists and ankles. The sharp, metallic scent of silver filled the air, making my stomach churn. Inside me, my wolf howled in terror—then pain tore through me, blinding and final, as they cut into my body and stole the very core of my existence.

When I woke, I knew something was terribly wrong.

I felt empty. Not just weak, but hollow, as though warmth had been drained from my veins. The strength that once thrummed beneath my skin was gone, replaced by a deep, bone-chilling cold. I stared at the ceiling, wondering if I would ever shift again… or if that part of me had died forever.

Then I sensed her.

Calista stood beside my bed, radiant and alive, holding a bouquet of lilies and sunflowers. She smiled at me gently, as if she hadn’t been the reason my world had collapsed.

“Caelia,” she said softly, placing the flowers across my legs. “I came to thank you. If it weren’t for what you gave up, I wouldn’t have survived.”

The scent hit me instantly. My lungs seized, my nose burned, and my throat began to close. I shoved the flowers away, coughing violently as tears streamed down my face.

She recoiled, stunned. “What’s wrong with you—?”

That was when Lucien entered.

His eyes flicked from the scattered flowers to my struggling form, and something icy settled into his expression. His voice was low and furious. “What is wrong with you?” he demanded. “She came here out of gratitude, and you treat her like this? I don’t know how you can be so heartless, Caelia.”

I tried to explain, but every breath felt like fire. “I can’t—pollen—I’m allergic—”

He cut me off before I could finish. He always did. Wrapping an arm around Calista, he pulled her close, shielding her as if she were the one injured.

“Stop making excuses,” he said coldly. “You should be ashamed of yourself.”

Then they walked away.

They left me alone in that bed—drained, broken, and discarded.

That night, I cried until my body ached, until even the tears hurt. I mourned more than my stolen wolf core. I grieved for my child, for my strength, for the bond I once believed I shared with the alpha who had sworn to protect me… and instead destroyed me.

The moon was high when my phone vibrated beside me.

Cassian’s name lit up the screen.

[Tomorrow, I’ll come get you. Tell me where you are. You don’t have to stay there any longer.]

My hands shook as I typed my reply. [I’m still at the hospital. I’ll leave with you tomorrow.]

For the first time in what felt like forever, my sobs eased. Something close to calm settled in my chest.

By morning, my decision was firm. They had taken everything that mattered—my wolf, my baby, my pride. There was nothing left for me in that place.

Then another message came.

Lucien.

[Let’s have dinner tonight. After all this, we should spend time together.] He even sent the restaurant name, as if a meal could erase the damage he’d done.

I almost ignored him. I should have. But some foolish, lingering part of me wanted closure—wanted to end it properly.

So I dressed in the pale blue silk gown I had worn the night we first met. The fabric had faded with time, but it still clung to memories I hadn’t fully buried. Maybe I wanted him to see what he had lost.

I arrived early. I waited. One hour passed. Then another. The food sat untouched, growing cold, just like the hope I hadn’t realized I was still holding.

When my phone buzzed, my heart sank.

It wasn’t him.

It was Calista.

Her post was public. A photo of her nestled against Lucien at a different restaurant, his hand laced with hers, his body turned toward her as if she were the center of his world. The caption read: I wanted Biscoff tiramisu, and he took me right away. My Alpha always chooses me.

My fingers went numb. The phone slipped from my grasp. But instead of shattering, something inside me solidified.

That was it.

I stood, smoothing my dress, and approached the manager. “If a man comes looking for me,” I said quietly, “tall, dark-haired… an alpha… please give him this.”

I handed her a small box.

Inside was the marriage certificate—fake, unfinished, just like the promises he’d made. Beside it was a sealed glass vial. Inside rested the preserved remains of the child I had lost. Our child.

The last truth he deserved to face.

Then I walked away.

The night air was crisp, biting, alive with the scent of freedom. My heart raced as I dialed the number I knew by heart.

“Cassian,” I said when he answered. “I’m ready now.”

Minutes later, a black car pulled up beside me. Cassian stepped out, tall and commanding, his presence steady and powerful. His sharp features softened when he saw me.

He held out his hand. “Are you sure?”

I drew in a breath and nodded. “I’ve never been more certain.”

As I climbed into the car, something inside me shifted—not my wolf, she was still weak and wounded—but my resolve. My will.

The hospital lights faded behind us. So did the pack. So did Lucien and Calista.

Before we disappeared into the night, I took out my phone, glanced once at Lucien’s unanswered messages, and dropped it into a trash bin on the sidewalk.

No ties. No way back.

When Lucien finally realized I was gone for good, he could tear apart the world searching for me. He would never find me.

Because Caelia—the woman he broke—had been left behind in that hospital.

And whoever I was becoming now… she was done looking back.

Caelia’s POV

The moment Cassian’s car crossed into his territory, my chest grew tight. The trees here whispered with an energy different from the woods I knew in Nightborne. The air smelled richer, like pine needles after a storm, but beneath it lingered something sharper, something that reminded me of history written in blood.

I saw the large signage: Wind Shadow Pack.

The very name made my wolf stir uneasily. They were the pack that had defeated Nightborne years ago, leaving scars that had never truly healed. I had grown up hearing stories of their cruelty, their strength, their merciless way of fighting. And now—here I was, willingly stepping into their land, carried by the Alpha himself.

Cassian parked outside a wide stone hall, the heart of his pack. My throat dried as wolves came forward, strong, broad-shouldered, some with eyes flashing gold, others gray. I braced myself for hostility, but to my surprise… smiles greeted me. A woman with auburn hair approached, cradling a basket of herbs.

“Alpha Cassian,” she said warmly before her gaze settled on me. “And who is this?”

His hand lingered at the small of my back. “An old friend. She’s under my protection.”

Her smile deepened, and she dipped her head toward me. “Welcome to Wind Shadow, sister. You’re safe here.”

Safe. The word felt foreign, like something spoken in a language I no longer trusted. Yet there was warmth in their voices, a kind of pack spirit I hadn’t felt in Nightborne for years. In Nightborne, every day had been heavy with suspicion, hierarchy, and silence. Here, laughter spilled through the halls. I saw pups darting between the legs of warriors, women chatting in groups as they prepared meals, warriors sparring but grinning even as they fought.

It unsettled me. Could the enemy of Nightborne truly be this… human?

Cassian led me through the corridors until we reached an office at the far end. The door shut behind us, and suddenly the weight of everything crashed down.

I turned on him. “Why are you doing this?” My voice cracked more than I wanted it to. “What do you want from me?”

His brows furrowed, and for a long moment, he didn’t answer. He just stood there, his broad frame leaning against the desk, his eyes studying me the way one studies a puzzle.

“You never asked that before,” he said finally, voice deep and measured.

“Because I had so much in my plate.” I wrapped my arms around myself, holding in the ache of what Nightborne had stripped from me. “I was too busy drowning in my own misery. But now I need to know. Why me, Cassian? Why take me out of Nightborne? You didn’t just stumble across me—you sought me out.”

His jaw tightened, his nostrils flaring slightly. “You think I dragged you here for some scheme?”

“Didn’t you?”

Silence stretched. His eyes softened in a way I hadn’t expected.

“Caelia,” he said quietly, “you were my childhood friend. Did you forget? We used to race down the riverbanks, train under your Alpha father. I know you can remember me, even at the hospital.”

I knew. I had forgotten some of those days—buried them beneath wars and betrayals. But yes… I did remember a boy with dark hair and mischievous eyes who used to call me ‘Fox’ because I was quick on my feet.

“I never forgot you,” he continued, stepping closer. “When I saw you at the hospital, broken and used, it burned me alive. That was not the life I imagined for you. You should have been happy, strong, free. Not…” He stopped himself, eyes darkening. “Not that shadow of yourself.”

I swallowed hard, my defenses threatening to crack. “So why bring me here? Pity?”

“No.” His voice hardened. “Because I need you. And because I can’t stand watching you suffer.”

My heart stuttered. “Need me? For what?”

But before he could answer, the office door burst open. Small footsteps pitter-pattered against the wooden floor, followed by giggles.

Two pups ran in, tumbling over each other. A boy and a girl, maybe no older than four, their cheeks flushed from play.

“Papa!” the girl squealed, her dark curls bouncing as she launched herself into Cassian’s arms.

Papa.

The word froze me.

Cassian bent to scoop her up easily, his large hands gentle against her tiny frame. The boy clung to his leg, eyes sparkling with the same gray flecks Cassian’s eyes held. The scent hit me then—warm, earthy, threaded with his wolf’s distinct power.

They smelled like him.

My breath caught. “Alpha…” I whispered, the air suddenly heavy around me. “You… you have children?”

He turned toward me, his expression unreadable as the little girl clung to his neck.

“Yes,” he said simply.

The room spun. My heart thudded in my chest, too fast, too loud. Of all the things I had expected—demands, manipulation, even betrayal—this, I hadn’t seen coming.