I woke alone in the guest wing, my fingers instinctively clutching at my chest as the familiar ache pulsed beneath my skin. Five years. Five years since Mason had claimed me as his mate, yet the bond remained incomplete—a phantom limb I couldn't ignore but couldn't truly feel either.

The digital clock on the nightstand blinked 6:17 AM. The pack would be buzzing with activity today, preparing for our fifth anniversary celebration. I should have been at Mason's side, helping coordinate the festivities. Instead, I was... here. Alone. Again.

"Mila," I whispered to myself, "today will be different."

It had to be.

I threw back the covers and padded to the kitchen, determined to make Mason's favorite breakfast—blueberry pancakes with extra syrup, crispy bacon, and coffee with just a hint of cinnamon. Maybe if I could just spend a few minutes with him, remind him of what we used to be before...

Before Ruth.

Before he decided I wasn't enough.

I hummed softly as I mixed the batter, the sound echoing in the empty kitchen. The guest wing felt more like home than the Alpha's quarters ever had. At least here, I didn't have to pretend.

"Alpha Mason already ate," a voice said from behind me.

I turned to find Tessa, one of the lower-ranked Omegas, standing in the doorway. Her eyes couldn't quite meet mine as she added, "Ruth ordered breakfast for him an hour ago."

The spoon slipped from my fingers, clattering against the bowl. "Oh. Thank you for letting me know."

Tessa nodded, her discomfort evident. Everyone knew. Everyone knew I was being erased from my own home.

"The pancakes look good," she offered hesitantly.

"They're his favorite," I replied, forcing a smile. "Would you like some?"

She shook her head quickly. "I should go. Lots to do before tonight."

After she left, I stared at the batter, at the bacon already sizzling in the pan. What was I doing? Why was I still trying?

---

The pack offices were bustling with activity when I arrived with the quarterly reports Mason had requested. Well, he hadn't exactly requested them from me—he'd asked Derek to handle it. But Derek had been swamped with security preparations for tonight's cruise party, so I'd offered to help.

I approached Mason's office, hearing laughter from within. Female laughter.

"Alpha Mason?" I called softly, knocking lightly on the door.

The laughter stopped abruptly. I pushed the door open just a crack, peering inside.

Ruth was perched on the edge of Mason's desk, her blouse unbuttoned one button too many, her hand resting casually on his shoulder. My mate's eyes were fixed on her neck as she tilted her head, exposing the sensitive skin there.

"Mason?" I said again, louder this time.

They both looked up, startled. Ruth's eyes narrowed when she saw me, but she didn't move away from Mason.

"Mila," Mason acknowledged, his tone neutral. "What is it?"

"I have the quarterly reports you needed," I said, stepping inside fully now.

Ruth's hand slid possessively around Mason's neck. "We were just discussing tonight's ceremony," she purred.

Something in me snapped. "Excuse me," I said, backing out of the room. "I'll just leave these on your desk."

As I turned to go, I heard Ruth's voice drop to a whisper. "After the Anniversary ceremony tonight, I'll finally be able to stop hiding."

"About time," Mason replied, his voice low but clear to my enhanced hearing. "After the ceremony, I will make the rejection official so we can finally be together publicly."

The papers slipped from my fingers, scattering across the floor.

---

The pack library was silent except for the occasional rustle of pages as I pretended to read. My mind kept replaying Mason's words: "After the ceremony, I will make the rejection official."

Official. As if our bond had ever been anything but a secret shame to him.

I closed my eyes, feeling the weight of five years of patience pressing down on me. Five years of hoping he would change his mind. Five years of believing that somehow, someday, he would see me—really see me.

But he never had.

And tonight, on the stage before the entire pack, he would humiliate me completely.

"I won't give him that satisfaction," I whispered to myself.

I reached for my phone and pulled up a contact I'd saved months ago but never used—Elena Cross, an elderly healer known for dealing with "delicate" matters. Her services didn't come cheap, but I'd been saving for this moment without even realizing it.

My fingers trembled as I typed: "I need the mixture we discussed. Tonight."

Her response came almost immediately: "Are you certain, child?"

I looked around the library, at the pack history books detailing glorious mate bonds and happy Lunas. There was no place for me in those stories.

"Yes," I replied. "I'm certain."

The phone buzzed again: "Meet me at sunset. The old oak by the eastern border."

I closed my eyes, feeling something shift inside me—not breaking, but hardening. The Mila who had entered this library would not be the same one who left.

Tonight, everything would change.

The old oak tree stood sentinel at the eastern border of our territory, its gnarled branches reaching toward a blood-red sunset. I clutched a small bouquet of wildflowers in my hand—my cover story in case anyone asked where I'd been.

"Beautiful evening for a walk, isn't it?" Elena Cross emerged from the shadows, her weathered face creased with concern. Despite her age, her eyes remained sharp, missing nothing.

"Elena," I greeted softly, glancing over my shoulder. "Thank you for meeting me."

She gestured to the flowers in my hand. "A clever disguise. Most would never suspect the Alpha's mate was gathering more than posies."

I lowered my voice anyway. "Do you have it?"

Elena reached into her worn leather bag, producing two small vials. One contained a pale green liquid that seemed to shimmer in the fading light; the other held a deep purple mixture that appeared almost black.

"Concentrated wolfsbane," she explained, holding up the green vial. "Enough to suppress your wolf for hours. And this—" she lifted the second vial, "—will mask your scent completely."

I reached for my mother's pearl necklace, the only valuable thing I had left. "Will this be enough?"

Elena's eyes softened. "Child, this is worth far more than what I've brought. Are you certain?"

"More than anything," I whispered.

She placed the vials in my palm, closing my fingers around them. "The wolfsbane will burn. It will feel like your insides are being scorched. And if you submerge yourself in water..."

"I'll appear dead to pack senses," I finished for her.

Elena nodded gravely. "Your wolf will fight it. The pain will be excruciating."

"I understand."

"Do you?" Her eyes searched mine. "Once you start this path, there's no turning back."

I thought of Mason's words—*After the ceremony, I will make the rejection official*—and felt something harden inside me.

"I died the day he chose her," I said quietly. "I'm just making it official."

---

The pack gathered at the edge of the forest for the mandatory pre-celebration run. My fingers closed around the small vial of scent-masking elixir in my pocket as I took my place at the edge of the group.

"Everyone in!" Mason's commanding voice cut through the chatter.

I shifted quickly, welcoming the familiar burn as my bones rearranged and fur sprouted across my skin. My wolf—Silver—emerged with a shake of her sleek gray coat. She was beautiful, strong, everything a Luna's wolf should be. And yet...

*He never looks at us anymore*, Silver whined inside my mind.

The pack moved as one into the forest, Mason's massive black wolf leading the way. Ruth ran beside him in her russet form, her tail high as she occasionally brushed against his flank.

I kept pace near the middle of the pack, my mind elsewhere. The vial of wolfsbane felt heavy in my pocket, even in wolf form. Tonight. It would happen tonight.

Lost in thought, I didn't notice Ruth veering from her path until it was too late.

She slammed into my side, sending me tumbling into a fallen log. Pain shot through my front leg as I yelped and struggled to regain my footing.

*MILA!* Mason's voice thundered through the pack mind-link. *SUBMIT!*

The Alpha command hit me like a physical blow. Silver whimpered, instinctively lowering our head and exposing our throat.

*You're disrupting the run!* His anger vibrated through the link. *Control yourself!*

But I hadn't—

Ruth let out a dramatic cry, flopping onto her side and thrashing as if mortally wounded. Mason was at her side instantly, nuzzling her with concern.

I tried to stand, wincing as pain shot through my ankle. In the confusion of the shift back to human form, I'd twisted it badly.

"Mason," I called softly, reaching toward him. "I think I'm hurt."

He transformed back to human form, his eyes flashing gold with irritation. "Of course you would choose now to be clumsy," he snapped, gathering Ruth in his arms. She nestled against his chest, her eyes gleaming with triumph over my shoulder.

"Mason, please," I whispered, my ankle throbbing.

"Get out of my sight before you ruin everything," he growled, turning away. "The pack doesn't need to see this."

I limped backward, watching as he carried Ruth toward the pack hospital. The other wolves averted their eyes—some pitying, others scornful.

No one followed me as I hobbled away from the pack grounds, not toward the hospital, but toward the rushing sound of the river that marked our territory's boundary.

The water looked dark and inviting in the twilight. I sat on the bank, gently prodding my swollen ankle.

"It's now or never," I murmured to myself, pulling out Elena's vial of wolfsbane.

I uncorked it, the acrid scent making my nose burn. One swallow of this, and Silver would retreat deep inside me, silent and still as death.

I dipped my fingers in the rushing water, testing its pull. The current was strong here—strong enough to carry me away.

"Ready?" I whispered to Silver.

My wolf whimpered, sensing what was coming. *Are we really doing this?*

"We have no choice," I answered, raising the vial to my lips. "Mila Spencer dies tonight."

The Pack House was unusually quiet when I returned. Most members were still at the hospital, fussing over Ruth's "injuries." My ankle throbbed with each step, but the physical pain was nothing compared to the hollow ache in my chest.

I hadn't planned to come back here. Not yet. But something pulled me toward the Alpha's private quarters—the rooms I should have shared with Mason, but never had.

The heavy oak door was slightly ajar. Strange. Mason always locked it when he wasn't there.

"Mason?" I called softly, pushing the door open wider.

The scent hit me immediately—a suffocating mixture of Mason's distinctive musk and Ruth's cloying floral perfume. The air was thick with it, unmistakable in its implications.

"No," I whispered, my fingers gripping the doorframe. "No, no, no."

I stepped inside, my eyes scanning the room. Ruth's silk scarf draped over the back of Mason's chair. Her diamond earring on his nightstand. And on the floor, barely visible in the dim light, her black lace lingerie.

Silver howled in agony inside me. *He's been with her. Right here. In our home.*

I bent down, picking up the delicate fabric with trembling fingers. The scent was overwhelming—their scents intertwined in the most intimate way possible.

"You never even gave me a chance," I whispered to the empty room. "All this time, I thought you were waiting for something. That maybe you needed time."

But there had never been any waiting. Just lies.

I dropped the lingerie as if it had burned me and stumbled backward. Five years of hope crumbled in an instant. The last thread of my endurance snapped.

---

My room felt like a stranger's when I entered it. How many nights had I spent here alone while Mason worked late? How many mornings had I woken up reaching for a warmth that was never there?

I moved to my dresser, pulling open the bottom drawer where I kept my most precious possessions. Beneath a stack of neatly folded sweaters lay a small velvet box.

I opened it slowly, my heart constricting as I lifted out the simple silver ring inside. Mason had given it to me on my sixteenth birthday, before our wolves awakened, when we were just two teenagers who liked each other.

"This is a promise," he had said then, his young face serious. "Someday, when we're adults, when we know our wolves, I'll give you something better."

I had cherished that promise. Even after he became Alpha, even after he found me—his fated mate—I had held onto that cheap silver band as a symbol of what could be.

Now I knew better.

I walked to the bathroom, staring at my reflection in the mirror. The woman looking back at me seemed hollow-eyed and pale. When had I become this ghost?

"This ends tonight," I told my reflection.

I opened the toilet lid and held the ring over the bowl. For a moment, I hesitated.

*Don't do this,* Silver whimpered. *It's all we have left.*

"It's nothing," I whispered back. "Just a lie in silver form."

I dropped the ring into the water and flushed. The sound of rushing water was oddly satisfying as the last remnant of our relationship disappeared.

"I reject the past," I said firmly to my reflection.

---

The camera felt heavy in my hands as I set it up on the dresser. I had borrowed it from the pack's media room, claiming I needed it for anniversary preparations. No one had questioned me.

I positioned it carefully, making sure it captured the entire room. Then I checked my appearance in the mirror one last time.

My hair was pulled back in a severe ponytail. My face was bare of makeup. I wore a simple black sweater—practical, unadorned.

Perfect.

I pressed record and sat cross-legged on the bed, directly in the camera's frame.

"My name is Mila Spencer," I began, my voice steady despite the storm raging inside me. "For five years, I have been the unacknowledged mate of Alpha Mason Foster of the Silverclaw Pack."

I took a deep breath, feeling Silver stir anxiously within me.

"I have endured humiliation, neglect, and betrayal. I have watched as another woman took what should have been mine—not out of love, but out of ambition and greed."

I reached beside me and lifted a leather-bound ledger I had found hidden among Ruth's belongings. Its pages contained detailed records of pack secrets sold to rival territories—territories where Ruth had family connections.

"Here is proof that Ruth Rivera has been systematically betraying the Silverclaw Pack for personal gain."

I held the book directly toward the camera, opening it to the most damning pages.

"And now," I said, returning the ledger to my side, "I will give Alpha Mason Foster exactly what he wants."

I straightened my spine, looking directly into the camera's lens.

"I, Mila Spencer, accept the rejection of Alpha Mason Foster."

The words hung in the air between us—me and my future self who would watch this recording from afar.

"I release him from all obligations to me as his fated mate. I renounce all claims to the title of Luna."

I reached for the camera, stopping the recording. My hands were steady as I connected it to my laptop and scheduled the video to be emailed to Mason and the Pack Elders exactly twenty-four hours later.

By then, Mila Spencer would be nothing but a memory—a dead woman whose ghost still had one final message to deliver.