I closed my eyes, Baton's threat echoing in my ears.

Suddenly, a memory flooded back.

Three years ago, on the night of the blood moon.

I met Baton for the first time during the territory war that nearly wiped out three packs.

He was covered in blood, his eyes filled with nothing but feral bloodlust.

Every other wolf was running for their lives. Except me.

I looked at him and held out my hand.

"Stop," I said softly.

My Omega scent surrounded him, soft and healing like moonlight.

The slaughter around him froze. Raw confusion flickered across his face.

"You're not afraid of me?" he asked.

"I see the pain in your eyes," I answered.

For me, this god of war had sheathed his claws.

He transformed his pack into a modern business empire.

He said it was to give me a more civilized world.

He once told me I was his salvation.

"Tricia."

Baton's voice pulled me back to the present.

"Tomorrow is the memorial for Seraphina's brother. You will be there."

I opened my eyes and looked at this stranger before me.

"I won't go."

"You will." He released my chin. "Or your mother will be gone by morning."

My blood ran cold.

"You wouldn't dare."

He didn't answer. He just turned and walked away.

As Seraphina passed me, she whispered, "It seems you don't know your 'beloved' as well as you thought."

The next day, I stood in the Blackwood Pack's great hall.

I was surrounded by cold, accusing faces.

Seraphina sat in the front row, dressed in black mourning clothes, her eyes filled with tears.

She looked every bit the poor, grieving sister.

"For our fallen warrior, all will show their respects," a Beta warrior announced loudly.

The other wolves began to drop to one knee in the pack's traditional sign of mourning.

But when it was my turn, the warrior stopped me.

"Wait." He gave me a cruel smile. "The future Luna has a special custom to perform."

Several warriors surrounded me.

"The Kneeling," one of them said. "A sign of submission for the defeated and the rogue. After all, her father killed our brother."

I looked around, searching for Baton.

He was standing at the back of the hall, watching everything with a blank expression.

"Baton!" I called out.

He didn't move.

"Kneel," the warriors shoved me. "Or we can help you."

My knees slammed into the cold stone floor.

Tears of humiliation blurred my vision.

This ritual meant I was admitting my family's guilt, admitting we were lesser.

But that wasn't enough.

Baton finally spoke.

"Tricia."

I looked up, my heart filled with a desperate hope.

"Renounce your father," his voice was devoid of all emotion. "Tell them all he is a vile murderer."

The hall fell silent.

Everyone was waiting.

"If you don't," Baton continued, "your mother will be dead before the moon rises tonight."

My heart felt like it had stopped.

"I..." My voice shook. "I, Tricia Vance, future Luna, hereby declare..."

Tears streamed down my face.

"That I sever all blood ties with the murderer, Draven Vance."

A satisfied murmur went through the crowd.

"And I declare he is a..." My voice was barely a whisper. "Vile murderer."

A triumphant smile spread across Seraphina's face.

After the ceremony, the crowd began to leave.

Baton walked toward me and reached out to help me up.

But the moment his hand touched my shoulder, a wave of violent nausea hit me.

I wrenched away from him, turning and heaving against the wall.

His scent, the Alpha scent that once promised safety and warmth, now made my stomach churn and my soul recoil.

"What is the meaning of this?" Baton's voice was laced with fury.

I wiped my mouth and slowly got to my feet.

"Don't touch me," I said, each word sharp and clear. "Your scent disgusts me."

Instantly, the color drained from Baton's face.

He clutched his chest, doubling over in pain.

The violent backlash of our fractured mate bond tore through him.

A video of me shaming my father spread to every pack in North America within three hours.

My phone blew up with notifications.

"Princess of the Laurel Pack Admits Father is a Murderer."

"Future Luna Disowns Family in Public Ceremony."

"Draven Vance Betrayed by His Own Daughter."

My mother sat in the living room, her phone slipping from her trembling hands.

"Tricia..." her voice was broken. "Why did you..."

"I had to," I knelt before her, taking her cold hands in mine. "He would have killed you."

She shook her head, the light in her eyes dimming.

"Our family..." she murmured. "Three hundred years of honor..."

Just then, the phone rang.

It was a call from the detention center.

"Miss Vance, your father..." the voice on the other end was frantic. "He stabbed himself with a silver dagger. He's losing a lot of blood."

My blood froze.

"What?!"

"He's being rushed to the medical center now. You need to come quickly!"

I pulled my mother up and we ran for the door.

The medical center was in the heart of the Blackwood Pack territory. We raced there, arriving in a frantic ten minutes.

But the gates were locked.

Two Beta warriors stood guard.

"Let us in!" I yelled, running to the gate. "My father is in there!"

"Sorry, Luna," one of them said, blocking my path. "Alpha's orders. No one is allowed inside."

"What? Why?!"

"The champion warrior, Thunder, was injured during training," the warrior explained. "The Alpha said no one is to disturb the medics until Thunder is out of danger."

I couldn't believe it.

"My father is dying!"

"Orders are orders," he said, his face a stone mask.

My mother threw herself against the iron bars of the gate.

"Draven! Draven!" she screamed, her voice raw. "Let me in! Please!"

We could hear frantic footsteps and the beeping of medical equipment from inside.

But no one opened the gate.

I reached for Baton through our mind link, only to slam into a wall of solid ice. He had blocked me. I pulled out my phone and dialed his number again and again. No answer.

Time ticked by, each second an eternity.

The sounds from inside grew more frantic, then suddenly went quiet.

A terrible feeling washed over me.

"No..." I collapsed to the ground. "Please, no..."

Half an hour later, the gates finally opened.

A doctor walked out, pulling off his gloves.

"Miss Vance..." His eyes were full of pity. "I'm so sorry. We did everything we could."

My world shattered.

My mother and I rushed into the medical bay.

My father was lying on a bed, his face as white as a sheet. His chest was wrapped in blood-soaked bandages.

"Dad..."

His eyes fluttered open. He saw us, and a flicker of relief crossed his face.

"Tricia..." he rasped. "My little moonbeam..."

"Don't talk," I sobbed, grabbing his hand. "The doctors will save you."

He shook his head, using his last bit of strength to squeeze my hand.

"Listen to me..." Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth. "Don't... don't beg him for anything."

"Dad..."

"Contact... Caleb Reed of the River Shore Pack," his voice grew weaker. "He'll help you... get away from here."

"I'm not leaving! I'll get revenge for you!"

"No." The light in his eyes was pure fatherly love. "Live well. That is your victory. Promise me."

His hand went limp in mine.

The last breath rattled in his chest, and the light in his eyes went out.

My father's cremation was held before dawn.

Only my mother, a few old friends from the Laurel Pack, and I were there.

No flowers, no eulogy. Just an endless, heavy silence.

I clutched the urn, feeling the last of my father's fading warmth against my skin.

This was the end for a good man.

"Let's go," I said, helping my mother to her feet. "We'll find Caleb."

My mother nodded. She hadn't said a word since last night, the light completely gone from her eyes.

We drove to the Blackwood Pack's cemetery. We planned to bury my father next to his ancestors, then leave this place forever.

The cemetery was on a hillside, ancient headstones barely visible in the morning mist.

I carried the urn toward the Laurel family plot.

But as I got closer, my heart nearly stopped.

A new black marble headstone stood right in the center of our family's section.

"Dante Morrison, Brave Warrior, Beloved Brother."

It was Seraphina's brother's grave. Right in the middle of our family's land.

"This can't be..." I whispered.

This was the Laurel family's resting place. Three hundred years of our ancestors were buried here. How could they let an outsider be buried on our sacred ground?

"Mom, we're taking Dad's ashes with us," I said, turning to her. "This sacred ground has been desecrated."

She gave a weak nod.

I was about to leave when I heard footsteps behind me.

"Tricia!"

It was Seraphina's voice.

I turned to see her and Baton walking toward us.

When Seraphina saw the urn in my hands, her face went pale.

"What do you think you're doing?" she shrieked, rushing at me. "This is my brother's resting place!"

"This is the Laurel family cemetery," I said coldly. "You had no right to bury him here."

"Are you trying to desecrate the dead?" Seraphina's voice was shrill. "You, the daughter of a murderer!"

She lunged for the urn.

"Give it back! You don't deserve to touch anything here!"

I instinctively stepped back, holding my father's ashes tight.

"Let go!"

In the struggle, Seraphina lost her balance and fell against her brother's headstone.

"Seraphina!"

Baton's roar shook the entire cemetery.

His eyes burned with murderous rage as a shockwave of his Alpha power crashed into me.

"How dare you touch her?!"

The force of his aura hit the urn in my hands.

Crack!

A fracture appeared on its surface.

"No!" I tried desperately to shield it, but it was too late.

A second wave of power hit.

The urn shattered. My father’s ashes exploded into a gray cloud, stolen by the wind.

"Dad!"

I fell to my knees, frantically trying to scoop up the scattered ashes, but the gentle breeze was already carrying them away.

Sharp pieces of the broken urn cut my hands, and my blood stained the stone path.

"Draven..." My mother let out a heart-wrenching sob, sinking to the ground beside me, trying to gather the dust.

Baton stared at the mess on the ground, his expression suddenly complex.

He realized what he had done.

I slowly got to my feet, looking at the ruin before me.

Even my father's final resting place had been destroyed by this man.

"Tricia..." Baton tried to step closer.

"Don't touch me," my voice was terrifyingly calm.

I pulled my mother up, ready to leave.

"Wait." Baton blocked our path. "Whose ashes were those?"

Pain and confusion flashed in his eyes.

"Tell me, whose ashes were those?" His voice began to tremble. "Say it again. Just say the words, and I'll believe you."

I looked at him, the man who had sworn to protect me for all of my life.

A cold smile touched my lips.

"It doesn't matter anymore," I said, my voice a blade severing the last thread that bound us. "From this moment on, we are done."