Allison’s POV

I closed my bedroom door quietly, clicking the latch into place.

The house had fallen into a strange lull after the chaos of the party downstairs. The scent of wolves in heat from dancing, the tang of alcohol, the faint burn of moon-blessed candles — all of it still lingered in the air, even up here.

I crossed to the corner table and dropped the heavy vinyl onto the turntable. A low scratch, then the calming hum of strings and wind instruments filled the room, drowning out what little noise still drifted up from below.

This was how I survived nights in the Hawthorn Pack. With the door locked, the music loud enough to blot out their laughter.

Now that I’d decided to go back to Plum Blossom and marry as my parents wished, I knew I’d have to resign my post here. Being Alpha Caden’s war strategist had been my bargain to remain in Hawthorn — my claws and my mind in exchange for safety.

But I couldn’t leave my wolves in disarray. Even if I was no longer staying, I wouldn’t leave a mess behind. That wasn’t my way.

So I sat at my window as dusk fell, the pack lights blinking on one by one outside, and got to work.

The stack of files was thick — patrol rosters, hunting schedules, border agreements. The kinds of things no one ever thanked you for keeping straight, but everyone noticed when they went wrong.

Hours passed before I finally removed the vinyl and stood. My back cracked when I stretched.

Downstairs was quiet now. The party had ended. The house was still.

For the first time all night, I let myself relax.

I picked up my phone and scrolled aimlessly, letting the silence settle around me. But then…

Trisha’s name popped up.

I froze instinctively. My thumb hovered for just a moment before opening her message.

“Why didn’t you like my posts?”

I blinked at it.

A minute later, another followed, “Sorry, Alli. I sent that by mistake. Please don’t be mad, okay?”

I scoffed softly. She’s too obvious.

Curiosity pricked at me anyway, and I opened her feed to see what had her so eager for my reaction.

And there it was. Several photos of her birthday party gifts, laid out to be admired by anyone with eyes.

The jewelry glimmered even through the screen — a rare crystal from the Moon Forest, rumored to glow only under a full moon. Next to it, a sleek, enchanted bow strung with moonstone beads, each one pulsing faintly with magic. A stack of furs — no doubt from Warren’s endless hours in the woods — tailored into coats soft enough to tempt even the most stoic she-wolf.

At the center of it all stood Trisha herself, her tiny frame flanked by Ryan and Warren, arms hooked through theirs as though she’d been born to belong there.

Her caption sparkled with her usual poisoned sweetness, “Yay, today I got treated like a Luna~”

I stared at the screen for a long moment.

Ah. So that’s what this was about.

Once upon a time, that might have hurt. I might have felt the claws of jealousy sink into my ribs, might have wondered what I’d done wrong to lose the place I’d thought was mine.

But not anymore.

Now?

I only felt… nothing.

Calmly, I tapped the heart. The little red symbol appeared beneath the photo — my way of saying, I’m letting go.

From now on, they could choose her. They could have her. They already had.

And I would let them.

The next morning, I walked into my office and slipped a folded resignation letter into my desk drawer. No drama. No goodbye speeches.

When I left the Alpha’s wing, my heart felt light.

Back at the house, I started packing.

I began with the boxes of memories shoved in my closet — the ones I used to take out on nights when I needed to remind myself why I stayed.

Photos of Ryan and Warren standing tall beside me as children at the border, all three of us muddy and grinning.

Pictures of us as teens winning equestrian tournaments, me still clutching the bouquet they’d given me afterward.

Trips across territories during our university breaks — me asleep on Warren’s shoulder, Ryan snapping the photo with his usual teasing grin.

There were gifts, too. Necklaces, books, old scrapbooks lovingly pieced together by their hands.

The memories were vivid — but they no longer mattered.

One by one, I carried them to the fireplace. The flames took each picture and devoured it eagerly.

The firelight glinted off the gold lettering of old cards before they blackened and curled. I didn’t flinch when the door opened behind me.

Ryan’s voice cut through the crackling fire, low and trembling.

“Alli. What the fuck are you doing?!”

I turned my head slightly, just enough to glance at them over my shoulder.

They were both there.

Ryan, his jaw tight, his fists clenching. Warren, his eyes wide with panic.

“Nothing,” I said simply. “They were getting moldy anyway. Might as well burn them.”

Warren surged forward, snatching for the photos still in my hand.

I didn’t even hesitate. I shook my hand just enough to send the stack fluttering into the fire.

The flames roared higher, leaving no chance to save anything.

“No—!”

Warren’s fingers darted for the burning edge of a photo, but the heat licked at his skin and he jerked back with a hiss, his palm already reddening.

He stared at me, his voice cracking. “Even if they were moldy, you didn’t have to burn them! These are our memories!”

I looked at him then — really looked at him — and almost laughed.

Because here I was. A living, breathing she-wolf who’d stood by them through every season, who’d bled for them, who’d loved them quietly all these years…

And they could hurt me again and again for the sake of someone like Trisha.

But now, just some old photos and charred gifts — and they were heartbroken.

How ironic.

Ryan still stood there silently, his expression tight and pained as he stared into the ashes.

I turned my gaze back to the flames. And I wondered, not without a sharp little smile…

When they found out I’d decided to go back to Plum Blossom to marry… what kind of reaction would they have then?

Allison’s POV

I stood there, still in front of the fireplace, watching the last of the photographs curl and blacken into nothing.

Ryan and Warren didn’t move.

They stood just a few paces away, tense as bowstrings, both of them looking at me like they wanted to scold me, drag the words right out of me — demand to know why.

But I only smiled faintly, the faintest lift of my lips, and let the ash settle where it fell.

“It’s just some pictures,” I said lightly, my tone almost teasing. “And a few old gifts. We can always take new ones later… if you want, you can even give me new gifts in the future.”

They blinked at me, surprised, and I tilted my head toward them. “It’s been a long time since we’ve gone on a proper trip, hasn’t it? Now we finally have a reason to make new memories.”

Ryan latched onto the idea immediately, his eyes softening as he stepped closer. “You’re right,” he said, his voice steady now. “We should plan something. A trip… somewhere far.”

Warren’s shoulders dropped as if he’d been holding his breath. “Yeah,” he said quickly. “That’s a good idea. A break from the usual. And this time…” He hesitated just a beat before adding, “…we should bring Trisha along. You know she’s never been able to vacation like that before. Not after what happened to her family.”

For a moment, my breath hitched in my chest.

I let out a faint laugh — bitter and sharp — though they couldn’t hear the thorns in it.

And they mistook it for agreement.

Both of them visibly relaxed, as though my little smile and that hollow laugh meant I’d forgiven them.

I didn’t correct them.

Ryan even gave me a small, relieved grin. Warren ruffled his own hair and said softly, “Good. I hate when you’re mad at us.”

They stepped further into the room then, the tension draining from them like they’d passed some unspoken test.

But then they both froze. Their eyes landed on the stacked suitcases by the wall — neat and ready, like soldiers waiting for orders.

Those hadn’t been there this morning.

They spoke at the same time. “What’s that?”

I followed their gaze and then looked back at them, my tone just as casual as before.

“Oh,” I said. “I quit being your father’s strategist. Change of career path. Something different this time.” The words hung there, heavy.

Ryan’s brow furrowed deeply, and Warren’s jaw went slack as he stared at me. I could see the confusion in their eyes. I’d loved that job. Everyone knew it. I’d poured everything into it.

Why suddenly quit?

Why now?

They exchanged an uneasy glance, like two wolves who’ve caught the faintest scent of blood but can’t yet find the source.

Warren opened his mouth, clearly about to press me for more — but before he could, Ryan’s phone buzzed sharply in his pocket.

He snatched it up and answered, and the moment Trisha’s frantic voice came through, I knew what was coming. It was on loudspeaker — I could hear every soft, pitiful note of it.

“Ry… I don’t feel good. My wolf isn’t responding… I’m so scared. What should I do?”

I didn’t even look at them, but I heard the way Warren’s breath caught. He didn’t even wait for Ryan to answer. He shifted on the spot, fur rippling through his skin as his wolf form erupted out of him. He growled low, and then barked out —

“Don’t be afraid, Trisha! I’m coming right now!”

Ryan’s eyes darted to me briefly, his expression conflicted, but only for a second.

Then he shifted too, his golden fur catching the light of the dying fire.

They bolted out the door together, leaving nothing but pawprints and the faint scent of their wolves in the room behind them.

Neither of them spared me more than a passing glance. I stayed there, still as stone, staring at the doorway long after they’d gone.

When my phone rang, I already knew who it was before I saw his name.

I answered, pressing the screen to my ear.

“Allison,” Alpha Caden said, his deep voice somber. “I found your letter on my desk.”

I closed my eyes and sat on the arm of the couch, letting the quiet settle between us.

“You’ve always done good work here,” he continued. “You’ve kept my pack safe. And you never once asked for more than what you needed. So tell me… what happened? Why are you quitting?”

I drew in a slow breath, the words coming out steady.

“It’s time, Alpha,” I murmured. “It’s time for me to stop running from who I am… and go back to face it. Back to Plum Blossom. Back to… my duty.”

I didn’t mention the marriage.

Not yet.

“You’re really leaving?” His voice sounded heavy, tired. “So soon? Do Ryan and Warren know?”

“They don’t,” I admitted quietly. “And please… help me keep it a secret. At least for now. I don’t want to cause more trouble.”

He sighed — a long, resigned sound that reminded me just how old he really was.

“You know how those two feel about you, Allison. Everyone always thought you’d pick one of them in the end.”

I smiled faintly, though there was no joy in it.

“There’s nothing to pity, Alpha,” I said softly. “You know what I am. What I’ll always be. No Alpha would truly want someone like me at his side. And as for my fated mate…”

I let the words fade.

We both knew that was a dream long dead. He didn’t try to persuade me anymore.

“Come see me before you go,” he said finally. “We may not see each other again for a long time.”

“I will,” I promised.

Before we hung up, he added one more thing.

“You’ve earned more than my respect these past few years. Consider this a small gesture of thanks — your award for your service will be delivered this afternoon. Don’t refuse it.”

I smiled faintly again, though he couldn’t see it.

“I won’t.”

When the knock came later that afternoon, I expected a courier, perhaps one of the pack messengers.

But when I opened the door… Trisha stood there, holding the award meant for me.

Allison’s POV

When I opened the door, moonlight spilled over the porch, illuminating the delicate crystal statue in Trisha’s hands.

It was beautiful — painfully so.

The award gleamed like a shard of the moon itself, caught in the shape of a hawthorn tree. The fragile branches seemed to sway faintly in the light, and beneath it, my name was carved with perfect precision. The magic sealed into the crystal shimmered like starlight. I knew exactly how much gold it cost the pack to commission something like this.

And yet… not a trace of congratulations touched Trisha’s face.

She stood there biting her lip, her usual wide, innocent eyes shimmering like she’d been hurt just climbing the stairs. The picture of frailty.

“Alli,” she said softly, almost as though she were reluctant to disturb me. “Alpha Caden asked me to bring this over. You’re amazing… to win something so precious.”

Her gaze dipped down to the award like it belonged to her already. Then she lifted her eyes back to me, feigning shyness.

“I…” she began, shifting her weight and clutching the crystal a little tighter, “I have a small favor to ask. I’ve never seen anything so beautiful before. And you know how much I love things like this, right? Could you… lend it to me for a few days? Just to motivate myself. Maybe…” She gave a weak little laugh. “…maybe someday I could even replace you as Alpha Caden’s strategist?”

She looked up at me through her lashes. “I know it’s too much to ask, but please… just consider it? I really want to feel motivated.”

For just a moment, I didn’t know how to react. The sheer audacity of her request stunned me into silence.

Then I smiled faintly — but it wasn’t a kind smile. It was cold. “You already know you’re being thick-skinned to even ask,” I said, my voice sharp and low. “So don’t. If you want one, earn it yourself.” My eyes swept over her slight figure, her trembling hands. “But you can’t, can you? Because you don’t have the kind of talent I do.”

Her cheeks flushed at that, the pale skin turning pink with embarrassment, but she didn’t back down.

Instead, she clung tighter to the crystal, whispering, “Why are you saying it like that? I wasn’t going to keep it… just to keep it at home for a few days. Are you really so stingy you won’t even lend it to me? Am I being so unreasonable to you?”

I said nothing. I simply extended my hand, my meaning clear.

Give it back. But she refused to let go. Her grip tightened, her lip trembled.

I tightened my fingers on the base of the hawthorn tree, tugging it toward me.

“Give it to me!” I almost screamed in annoyance.

“Why can’t you just lend it?!”

The fragile thing slipped between our hands.

Time seemed to slow as it fell, spinning once, twice — then shattered on the hardwood floor.

The pieces scattered like fallen stars, and the soft moonlight trapped inside flared once before fading to dull glass.

Trisha gasped and immediately crouched down, her hands clutching at her shin as though she’d been wounded by the shards.

Just then, the gate slammed open.

Ryan and Warren stepped inside, the scent of wolf fur and the cold night wind clinging to them.

The moment their eyes fell on Trisha — kneeling on the floor, the broken crystal around her and blood trickling down her pale shin — they rushed forward.

“Trisha!” they cried in unison, both dropping to her side.

Ryan’s hands trembled as he lifted the hem of her skirt to inspect her shin, his jaw tightening at the sight of the shallow cut.

“You’re bleeding,” he muttered, his voice pained. “I’ll take you to the healer.”

“No, I—” she began weakly, but Ryan swept her into his arms anyway, his eyes dark with worry.

Warren stayed behind just long enough to round on me, his fury hot and bitter in the air.

“Alli,” he snarled, his fangs glinting. “You already have everything — why do you have to bully her too?!”

I froze. Then laughed bitterly.

“That was my award,” I said coldly. “I worked years for it. It’s my honor, my name carved on it. She clung to it and now it’s broken — and you think I’m the one who wronged her?”

I jabbed a finger toward the shards on the ground, my voice sharp as an icicle.

“She owes me an apology.”

But Warren’s eyes only burned hotter.

“It’s just a statue!” he shouted. “You can win and buy as many as you want! How can you compare that to Trisha being hurt?!”

He shoved a finger toward me, his wolf barely restrained under his skin.

“You should fucking apologize to her!”

Without waiting for a reply, he shifted — his dark gray wolf shaking off the remains of his clothes — and darted out the door to catch up with Ryan and Trisha.

The house fell silent again. I stood there staring at the shards of moonlight at my feet, Warren’s words echoing in my ears.

That I, the one who’d been wronged, should apologize. A laugh — bitter and dry — escaped my lips.

Then I noticed the pain.

Glancing down, I saw a long gash along my own shin, deeper than Trisha’s, blood running freely down my ankle.

I bit my lip, swallowed the sting in my throat, and crouched to pick up the shards one by one.

No one helped me. No one even noticed.

When I finished, I went to the bathroom, cleaned and wrapped my wound, and sat back on the couch in silence.

Later that night, my phone buzzed.

It was my mother — dozens of pictures of wedding rings filling my inbox.

Choose whichever you like best, my sweet moonflower, she’d written.

I scrolled through the pictures absently. Then I called her. Her voice was warm and bright, but after a moment she hesitated.

“Allison,” she said softly. “Is something wrong? You sound… tired.”

I blinked hard against the tears that threatened to fall.

“I’m fine,” I lied smoothly, my voice even. “I’ll be done here in about four days. How’s the wedding planning going?”

The words felt strange in my mouth, but I said them anyway.

I didn’t see them come in, but I heard the front door click shut behind me. Ryan and Warren’s scents hit me a moment later — wild and familiar.

They froze where they stood, hearing the last words of my call.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw their faces darken. Their gazes locked on me, and then on each other — sharp as claws.

And they spoke at once, voices low and dangerous. "Wedding? What wedding?”