I stood in the moonlit den, the silvery glow casting long shadows against the walls. My voice trembled, barely above a whisper. “I think we should spend the next blue moon together as a family. It might... help Kael. Help us.”

Silence swallowed the room whole, thick and suffocating. My gaze flickered to the man across from me—my mate, my Alpha. Lucian sat rigid in his chair, his chiseled features bathed in cold light, his piercing eyes fixed somewhere I couldn’t see.

I chewed my inner lip, searching for the right words. Words that would bridge the ever-growing distance between us. It had always been like this—me pleading for something so small, something that should have been his responsibility as a father and husband.

“Lucian...” I tried again, softer this time, my voice threading with desperation. “Kael deserves this. Don’t you think he’s been through enough?”

My words barely stirred him. He didn’t even flinch.

My heart clenched as I glanced down at our son. Kael lay curled under thick blankets near the hearth, his pale skin almost translucent in the flickering firelight. His breathing was soft, shallow, each rise and fall of his chest a quiet battle.

Born with a fragile heart, Kael had known more pain in his few years than most did in a lifetime. He couldn’t run with the other pups, couldn’t train, couldn’t laugh freely without exhausting himself. It wasn’t fair—not to him, not to us.

“This isn’t just for Kael,” I pressed, my voice steadying. “It’s for us too. A night together, like it used to be. Maybe—” I hesitated, willing my voice not to break, “Maybe it could remind us of what we have.”

Lucian’s gaze finally moved, locking onto mine. For a moment, I thought I saw something flicker there—regret, maybe, or sorrow—but it was gone before I could name it.

“What do you expect me to do, Sera?” His voice was low, clipped, each word carefully measured.

I swallowed hard. “Be there. That’s all I’m asking. Be there for him, for me. Just once.”

He stood abruptly, his towering form casting a shadow that seemed to swallow the room. My heart leapt in hope, but it died as quickly as it came. Without another word, he turned on his heel and strode out, the door closing behind him with a dull thud.

The emptiness he left behind was colder than any winter night.

I sank to my knees beside Kael, brushing a hand through his soft, dark hair. Tears blurred my vision, but I refused to let them fall.

“It’s okay,” I whispered, my voice breaking. “I’m here, baby. I’m here.”

Kael stirred slightly, his lips parting as if to speak, but he settled back into sleep. I sat there for what felt like hours, the crackling fire, the only sound, vowing to hold together what Lucian seemed determined to let crumble.

Later that evening, I sat at my desk, papers spread out before me. The council had sent another batch of reports, and I was knee-deep in reviewing files on the new warriors who’d sworn their oaths yesterday. The work was tedious, but it kept my mind busy, a welcome distraction from everything else.

The sound of hurried footsteps in the hall broke my concentration. Curious, I stepped outside our room, only to freeze at the sight of Lucian. He was rushing into the sitting area, carrying Talia—my younger sister—in his arms like she was made of glass.

“What happened?” I asked, my voice tighter than I intended.

Lucian glanced at me briefly, his expression unreadable before his eyes returned to Talia. Concern etched every line of his face, a tenderness I hadn’t seen in a long time.

“I told him I was fine,” Talia said with a light laugh, though her tone carried a hint of embarrassment. “I just tripped, Sera. It’s nothing serious.”

“Nothing serious?” Lucian cut in sharply, his jaw tightening. “You’re bleeding, Talia. Sit down. I’ll get the medicine.”

“Lucian, really—”

“Tals, don’t argue,” he interrupted, his tone soft but firm. “Stay here.”

Tals?

The nickname hit me like a slap. I hadn’t heard him use it before, and it rolled off his tongue with a familiarity that sent an ache through my chest. My gaze dropped to her leg, where a small cut marred her otherwise flawless skin. It wasn’t deep, barely enough to warrant his panic, yet here he was, fussing over her like her life was in danger.

I forced a smile. “I see. Get well soon, Talia. I’ll just... get back to work. Lucian’s here to take care of you.”

Talia flashed me a small smile, one that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Thanks, Sera. And sorry for the commotion at this hour.”

Her words were polite, but her tone was anything but apologetic.

I nodded stiffly and turned away, heading back toward the room. I didn’t make it far before Lucian’s voice stopped me in my tracks.

“There you are,” he said softly to Talia. “Let me help you sit properly. Please be more careful next time, Tals. Those precious legs of yours shouldn’t suffer a scratch, let alone a cut like this.”

The door clicked shut behind me before I could hear more.

My hands trembled as I leaned against the desk, trying to steady my breathing.

I couldn’t help but remember the time I was injured in the woods. I’d called for Lucian, hoping—no, expecting—he would come. But he didn’t.

When I finally made it back, bruised and bleeding, he barely looked at me.

“Good you’re back. Kael was worried,” he’d said, his voice devoid of concern. “Stop overreacting. You just had a small wound.”

Small wound.

The words echoed in my mind, cutting deeper than the injuries ever had. My cuts and bruises had been dismissed like nothing, as though my pain didn’t matter.

I stared at the papers on my desk, the words blurring together. My hands clenched into fists, nails digging into my palms. I didn’t know if the burn in my chest was jealousy, hurt, or anger.

Maybe all three.

No matter what it was, it left one thing abundantly clear: I couldn’t go on like this.

Days had passed since I last felt any semblance of peace. Bertha, the council’s senior healer and Kael’s primary caregiver, called me into her quarters today. The look in her eyes as I entered told me everything I needed to know, yet I clung to a fragile sliver of hope.

“Sera, I wish I didn’t have to give you this news,” Bertha began, her voice trembling. “But as Kael’s mother, you deserve to know the truth.”

My heart raced, and the mug in my hand trembled, the hot tea forgotten. “Just tell me,” I whispered, bracing myself for the blow.

Bertha took a deep breath, her face etched with sorrow. “Kael’s condition is deteriorating. The disease… it’s spread throughout his body. At this point, it’s no longer a matter of if, but when.”

The words felt like a dagger, twisting deeper with every syllable. My throat tightened, and I struggled to find my voice.

“We’ve done everything we could,” Bertha continued, her tone heavy with regret. “If he stays longer, his suffering will only grow. I hate saying this, but you need to prepare yourself.”

My legs felt like they would give out beneath me. The world blurred as her words sank in.

I walked home alone, my mind spinning. Wolves greeted me as I passed, but I barely registered their presence. This morning, I was at the hospital with Kael, surrounded by healers and helpers. But now, I returned without him, a hollow shell of myself.

Every step felt like dragging boulders, my heart too heavy to bear. The image of Kael’s frail body flashed in my mind, and my knees nearly buckled.

When I arrived at the common den, Lucian was seated on the couch, casually flipping through papers. His calm, indifferent demeanor was a cruel contrast to the storm raging inside me. If he wasn't with my sister Talia, he was always working.

Summoning what little strength I had left, I crossed the room and sank into the couch opposite him. My shoulders slumped, tears threatening to spill.

“Lucian…” My voice wavered. “Kael’s health—”

Lucian cut me off, not even looking up. “Can’t you see I’m busy, Sera? I have enough on my plate without adding your worries to it.”

My chest tightened, but I pushed on. “But it’s Kael. Bertha said—”

“I heard you the first time,” he snapped, his tone laced with impatience. “Let the healers handle it. You’re overthinking again.”

Overthinking? My jaw dropped. His laziness, his apathy—it was suffocating. “How can you say that?” I shot back, my voice rising despite myself. “It’s your son we’re talking about, Lucian! For once in your life, act like you care!”

Lucian finally looked at me, his eyes cold and unyielding. “And what exactly do you expect me to do, Seraphine? Snap my fingers and fix everything? You’re being hysterical. Keep your voice down. We’re in the common den, and people are busy.”

My hands trembled with rage. “People are busy?” I hissed. “This is about your son, and you’re worried about interrupting people?”

“Don’t you dare raise your voice at me,” he growled, his tone sharper now. “You’re always looking for pity, Sera. Using Kael’s condition as your excuse to overreact.”

His words hit me like a slap. I stood, my body trembling with fury.

“I can’t do this anymore, Lucian,” I said, my voice breaking but resolute. “Let’s end this bond. I’m done.”

His eyes flashed with anger, a flicker of his wolf surfacing. “Unbelievable,” he snarled. “You’re always running away. Always the victim. You’d abandon our bond—abandon Kael—just to make yourself feel better?”

Before I could respond, Talia breezed into the room. Her presence, unwelcome as it was, felt like salt in a raw wound. She looked between us, her lips curling into a faint, smug smile.

“You need to calm down, Sera,” she said, her tone dripping with condescension. “Kael doesn’t need an overreacting mother. He needs someone strong.”

Her words ignited a fire in me. I turned on her, my voice shaking with suppressed rage. “You have no right to speak about my son,” I hissed, my wolf clawing beneath the surface, desperate to be unleashed.

Talia took a step back, startled by my tone, but Lucian stepped in, his hand raised in warning. “Enough, both of you,” he said coldly.

But I wasn’t finished. My pain, my anger—they wouldn’t be silenced anymore.

The room felt suffocating as tension swirled like a storm, thick and inescapable.

Talia stood smugly before me, her words still hanging in the air like poison. “I just said the truth. Kael needs strength, not a mother who loses her head over every little thing.”

My vision blurred with tears and rage, the weight of her condescension breaking something deep within me. Before I could think, my hand flew up and connected with her cheek. The sharp crack of the slap echoed through the den, freezing everyone in place.

Talia gasped, her hand flying to her reddening cheek. “Did you just—”

“Yes, I did,” I spat, my voice trembling with unbridled fury. “And I’ll do it again if you dare speak about my son like you know anything!”

Lucian was on his feet in an instant, his eyes blazing with anger. His wolf rippled beneath the surface, evident in the hard set of his jaw and the growl in his voice. “How dare you, Seraphina?”

I turned to him, chest heaving, expecting—hoping—for him to finally stand beside me, to defend us. But his next words shattered me.

“How dare you lay a hand on your sister?”

His words struck like a whip, leaving me momentarily stunned. “Sister?” I repeated, my voice cracking. “That’s all you see her as? Not the woman who’s been undermining your mate and disrespecting your family at every turn?”

“Sera—”

“No,” I cut him off, stepping closer, desperate to make him see reason. “I’m your mate, Lucian. Your mate. The woman who bore your child, who has fought for this family every single day. Why are you defending her over me? Over us?”

He glared at me, his expression as cold and distant as it had been for months. When he finally spoke, his words sliced deeper than any blade.

“Because you’ve always been the problem, Sera. You lash out, you overreact, and you expect everyone else to clean up the mess. Maybe this bond was never real.”

The air left my lungs as if I’d been struck. “You… you don’t mean that,” I whispered, my voice barely audible.

Lucian’s jaw tightened, but he said nothing more, his silence screaming louder than any words.

Talia, still holding her cheek, let out a humorless laugh. “This is exactly what I mean, Sera. Always making everything about you. You’re exhausting.”

Something inside me snapped, the tether of restraint fraying to nothing. “Get out,” I said, my voice low and deadly calm.

Talia raised a brow. “Excuse me?”

“I said get out! Before I do something we’ll both regret,” I growled, my wolf surfacing, teeth bared in warning.

Lucian stepped between us, his hand raised in a pathetic gesture of control. “Enough, Seraphina. You’re embarrassing yourself.”

I stared at him, my mate, the man who was supposed to protect me, to stand with me. But there was nothing left to fight for in his eyes—only disappointment, as though I was the weight dragging him down.

Tears threatened to spill, but I refused to let them fall in front of him. “No, Lucian,” I said, my voice cracking. “You’re the embarrassment. To our bond, to our son, to everything we’ve built. And you don’t even care.”

"And you, Talia, shame on you for being an attention seeker whore!"