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.

The Silver Queen River Cruise Ship glittered against the night sky, its lights reflecting off the dark water like fallen stars. I stood at the entrance, my simple black dress a stark contrast to the colorful finery of the other pack members. My ankle still throbbed from this morning's "accident," but the pain felt distant now—numbed by the weight of my decision.

"Quite the spectacle," I murmured to myself, taking in the elaborate decorations. Crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling, casting prismatic light across the polished wood floors. Tables laden with food lined the perimeter of the main hall, while servers in crisp white uniforms weaved through the crowd with trays of champagne.

I'd arrived late deliberately. No sense in standing around while everyone pretended not to stare at the Alpha's unwanted mate.

"Luna Mila," a young Delta greeted me with a slight bow, his eyes quickly darting away. "Welcome aboard."

I nodded, accepting a glass of champagne from a passing server. "Thank you."

The title felt like a cruel joke now. Luna in name only.

From across the room, a collective gasp rippled through the crowd. I turned to see Ruth making her entrance.

She floated down the grand staircase in a flowing white gown that hugged her curves before cascading to the floor like a waterfall of silk. The dress was unmistakably bridal—a deliberate statement. Her dark hair was swept up in an elegant chignon, adorned with pearl pins that caught the light with every movement.

"Isn't she stunning?" a female voice beside me whispered. "Ruth looks like a real Luna."

I didn't respond. I didn't need to. Everyone knew the truth.

Ruth's eyes found mine across the room, a triumphant smile curving her lips as she glided toward Mason. He stood tall at the center of the room, resplendent in his formal Alpha attire—black suit with silver embroidery that matched our pack's colors.

"Mason," she purred, loud enough for nearby guests to hear. "Everyone's waiting for your speech."

He smiled down at her, his hand settling possessively at the small of her back. "Patience, my dear. We have all night."

Silver stirred restlessly within me. *Look at them. They're not even trying to hide it anymore.*

"I know," I whispered. "That's why tonight is perfect."

The crowd parted as Mason made his way to the small stage at the front of the room. Ruth clung to his arm, her body pressed against his side in a blatant display of ownership.

"Brothers and sisters of the Silverclaw Pack," Mason's voice boomed across the hall. "Tonight we celebrate not just five years of prosperity, but a new chapter in our history."

I edged closer to the bar, my fingers closing around the small vial in my pocket. The wolfsbane elixir felt cool against my skin.

"A pack's strength comes from its ability to adapt," Mason continued, his eyes scanning the crowd. They found mine in the shadows, narrowing slightly. "Sometimes, tradition must give way to progress."

His gaze held mine, a silent warning flashing in his golden eyes. *Don't make a scene, Mila.*

"Together, we have built something great," he said, his voice dropping to a more intimate tone. "But tonight is about choices. About destiny."

Ruth preened beside him, her hand sliding up his arm to his shoulder.

"Some bonds are meant to be honored," Mason said, his eyes still locked on mine. "Others..."

I felt the weight of the room's attention shift toward me. This was it—the moment he would publicly reject me.

Before he could finish, I stepped forward.

The crowd parted like water around a stone. Whispers followed in my wake as I walked toward the stage.

"Mila," Mason hissed, his eyes flashing gold. "What are you doing?"

I stopped at the foot of the stage, looking up at him. For a moment, no one spoke. The silence stretched taut as a bowstring.

Then I laughed.

The sound cut through the tension like a blade, sharp and unexpected. Several pack members flinched.

"You don't get to choose," I said, my voice carrying across the silent room. "You only get to lose."

Mason's face darkened with rage. "Mila, stop this now."

"Why?" I asked, pulling the vial from my pocket. "Afraid of what I might say?"

Ruth's eyes widened as she recognized the green liquid in the vial. "Mason," she whispered urgently. "She has wolfsbane."

I uncorked the vial, the acrid scent making my nose burn. One swallow would send Silver retreating deep inside me, silent and still as death.

"Whatever you're planning," Mason growled, "it won't work."

I raised the vial to my lips, meeting his gaze one last time. "It already has."

In one fluid motion, I tipped the vial and drank deeply. The liquid burned like fire down my throat, spreading through my veins like molten lead.

Silver howled in agony inside me as the wolfsbane took effect.