Felicity’s POV

He was Damien.

I barely recognized him at first. He stood at the hospital doorway, radiating power in a way that made the air feel heavy, his dark hair cascading past his shoulders, his gaze sharp and commanding. It was nothing like the Damien I remembered.

Once, long ago, he had been a visitor to my parents’ pack. My father, though not an Alpha himself, had been one of Damien’s early mentors in diplomacy and battle strategy. Despite Damien’s pack being far larger and more formidable than ours, he had spent time in our home, listening intently to my father’s lessons.

Back then, he had been… softer. A little nerdy, bookish, with glasses that always slipped down his nose and a frame that seemed too lean for an Alpha heir. I had never thought he would one day carry the weight of his pack with such confidence, such strength. Years of leadership had carved a new man before me, nothing like the shy young wolf I once knew.

“You…” My voice had cracked when I saw him. “Damien?”

His smirk had been faint, but real. “So you do remember me.”

Of course I had. How could I forget the boy who once snuck me extra sweet buns from my mother’s kitchen? But the man before me was no boy. He was all Alpha, and his words had made my heart stumble.

“Do you want me to help you run away from your mutt of an Alpha?”

The weight of his question still lingered with me days later, long after I had begged him for time. “A week,” I had whispered to him. “Give me a week. To settle what’s left of me here.”

And Damien, steady and unshaken, had only nodded. “I’ll be waiting. Always.”

I stayed in the hospital for three more days. My body healed, but my heart did not. I grieved endlessly in silence—the baby I had lost before I ever knew it existed, the marriage I thought was real, the betrayal that stared me in the face every time I closed my eyes.

When the healers cleared me to leave, I walked back to the packhouse, dragging the weight of despair with me. But as soon as I stepped inside, I froze.

The air was filled with laughter. The living area was bright, crowded with food on the center table as though it were a feast. There they sat—Alpha Cyrus, Beta Noel, and her. Dianna.

The laughter stopped the moment I entered. All eyes turned toward me.

“Oh,” Cyrus said after a pause, his voice casual, as though I had only interrupted a minor gathering. “I forgot you’d be coming home today. You should have called me.”

Called him. Again with blame. As if I had been wrong to simply return to my own home.

But my eyes were not on him. They were on her.

Dianna sat close to him, her smile sugary sweet, her hand resting on her lap as though she had every right to be there.

Cyrus cleared his throat, shifting uncomfortably before he spoke again. “This is Dianna. My childhood friend. She’ll be staying here at the packhouse for a while. She’s recovering—from… an attack. Some sorcery in the past month.”

Sorcery? I nearly laughed. But I forced myself to breathe, to stay composed. “I remember Dianna,” I said quietly. “You used to… hang out. Years ago.”

“Yes,” Cyrus said quickly, almost too quickly. “Exactly. She’s been through a lot, Felicity. Her condition is serious. That’s why I left the other day—she needed me more. Your border stunt…” He waved a hand dismissively. “…I knew you’d be fine, It can be avoided if you only stayed away from the borders.”

My jaw dropped. He was blaming me? The scars still burned across my skin. The ache in my womb still throbbed.

“I wasn’t—” My voice shook, but I pushed through. “I lost something. I lost our baby—”

But before the words could fully leave my lips, before I could tell him of the baby, Dianna let out a sudden shriek.

Her hand flew to her chest. “Oh, Goddess! Alpha—it’s happening again—my condition—!” She slumped dramatically against the chair, her face twisted in false pain.

And just like that, all eyes went to her.

Cyrus was on his feet instantly, hands on her shoulders. “Dianna! Breathe, I’m here. I’ve got you.”

“No,” I whispered, my voice drowned beneath her cries. “No, listen to me—I lost our—”

But he didn’t hear. He didn’t see. All his focus was on her trembling form, her crocodile tears spilling like rain.

The words about our baby died on my tongue, strangled by the weight of his indifference.

I turned and walked away.

Upstairs, I pushed open the door to my room, my sanctuary, my last remaining corner of this cursed packhouse. But the sight that met me sent me reeling.

It was empty. The furniture was still there, but my belongings were gone. My clothes, my books, the little trinkets I had carried from my parents’ pack, vanished. The space felt foreign, stripped bare.

And then I understood. This wasn’t my room anymore.

I felt her presence behind me before I even turned.

“Like it?” Dianna’s voice was honeyed with false sweetness. “Cyrus gave me this room. Said it was bigger. More comfortable. More fitting… for me.”

My stomach twisted. She stepped closer, her lips curving. “After all, it was always meant to be mine. From the very beginning. I left, yes—but then you stole everything that belonged to me. Even Cyrus.”

Her words dripped venom, but her eyes glittered with triumph. I saw her now for what she truly was, not the fragile childhood friend, not the victim of sorcery, but a wolf who had returned to reclaim everything, no matter who she destroyed in the process.

“So your illness,” I asked softly, “is it real?”

For a fraction of a second, her mask slipped. But then her voice rose, trembling theatrically as tears spilled down her cheeks. “Are you accusing me of faking my pain? After everything I’ve been through?”

Her wails echoed down the hallway. Loud. Calculated. And right on cue, Cyrus appeared. His eyes immediately locked on her, full of concern, before they flicked to me with fury.

“What did you say to her?” His voice was sharp as a whip.

“I—”

“She’s accusing me,” Dianna sobbed, throwing herself against him. “She accused me of pretending to be sick just to get your attention. She hates me, Alpha! She wants to ruin us!”

“That’s not what I said!” I shouted, desperate, but it was useless.

Cyrus’s gaze hardened. He strode forward, his grip suddenly like iron as he snatched my hand. Pain flared as his fingers clamped down, and before I could protest, he ripped the ring from my finger.

The ring. The simple band he had placed there three years ago, promising me that someday it would be replaced by a Luna’s coronet. Promising me that my time would come.

His eyes were cold as he pocketed it. “You don’t deserve this ring anymore.”

The final thread that had tied me to him snapped.

And I stood there, hollow, realizing every promise, every word, every dream had been a lie.

Felicity’s POV

I was no longer in my own room.

That reality stung worse than any wound, worse than the claw marks that had nearly killed me weeks ago. They had moved me to the guest room, four plain walls, a small bed, none of the warmth that once reminded me I was supposed to be Luna. My things were stacked in boxes like I was a rogue passing through. Meanwhile, Dianna… she slept in my room. My bed. The one place where I had once dreamed of raising pups with Alpha Cyrus.

I folded my clothes with slow, deliberate hands, as if by neatly tucking each piece away I could somehow hold together the fraying edges of my sanity. Each shirt, each scarf carried a memory, small, painful ghosts of a bond that was thinning with every breath.

Alpha Damien’s promise echoed in the back of my mind. One message, and I’ll come. He had said it so firmly, so steadily, that I almost believed in the possibility of freedom. If I called, he would help me leave Cyrus. My heart trembled at the thought, but my pride kept me from pressing send. Some part of me still foolishly hoped Cyrus would turn his gaze back to me.

The sound of footsteps outside drew me from my thoughts. A metallic clatter followed, the delivery box. Curiosity pushed me forward, down the stairs, until I stood by the packhouse entrance.

The mailbox lay there, a plain container, but inside it… I froze.

A velvet case.

My fingers shook as I opened it. Inside glittered a ring, no, my ring. The one I had designed, painstakingly sketched, shaping every curve of the band and the placement of the diamonds. I had given Cyrus a copy of that design, half-teasing, half-dreaming, saying it was the ring I would want to wear on our wedding day.

And here it was. Real. Perfect.

Tears pricked my eyes. Was this his apology? His way of saying he was finally ready to give me a proper ceremony, a real marriage? My wolf howled faintly within me, hope sparking for the first time in weeks.

I slid the ring onto my finger. It fit perfectly, like it had been waiting for me all along.

But then his scent swept in, Cyrus’s commanding presence filling the hall like a storm. His gaze locked on the ring, and instead of the warmth I craved, fury darkened his features.

“What are you doing with that?” he snapped, voice like a whip.

I stared at him, bewildered. “What do you mean? It’s my design. My ring. You had it made for me… didn’t you?”

His jaw tightened, his nostrils flaring. “That’s not for you.”

The words cut me open. My chest hollowed. “Not… for me?” My voice cracked. “Cyrus, aren’t you going to marry me for real now? Isn’t that why you had this made?”

He scoffed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “Marry you? Felicity, we are already married. What nonsense are you talking about?”

My breath hitched. Married. He always said that, clinging to the paper contract he had tossed my way years ago. But it had never been real. No vows, no ceremony, no recognition. Just a cold signature.

Before I could answer, a sickeningly sweet voice drifted in.

“Isn’t that the ring I wanted?” Dianna.

She glided toward us, pale as porcelain, her eyes watery with practiced fragility. My stomach twisted when I saw how her gaze lingered possessively on the ring still shining on my finger.

I stepped back, clutching my hand to my chest. “No. This is my design. I gave it to Alpha Cyrus long before you—”

“Enough!” Cyrus’s voice boomed, silencing me. His eyes burned with warning, not at her but at me. “Felicity, give it to Dianna. You know she’s sick. She deserves it more.”

My knees nearly gave out. “She deserves it?” My voice shook, disbelief and rage warring inside me. “You mean to tell me the ring I created, the one meant to be mine, belongs to her now? Alpha, how could you?”

His expression hardened. “Dianna’s sorcery is serious. I’ll do whatever I must to lighten her mood. If giving her this ring makes her happy, then so be it.”

Something inside me cracked. “You would do everything for her,” I whispered. “Give her a grand ring, a grand wedding… yet you never even gave me a proper one.”

“Because you’re not sick, Felicity!” he roared, eyes flashing with impatience. “You don’t need it.”

Silence fell heavy in the room. My hands trembled, my chest heaving.

Dianna pressed herself into Cyrus’s side, lowering her lashes. A single tear slid down her cheek. “I don’t mean to cause trouble. I just wanted to borrow him for a while,” she whispered pitifully. “Just a grand wedding, just to feel like I’m loved before I die. Isn’t that too much to ask?”

Her words were knives dressed in velvet. My wolf snarled inside me, but my body felt rooted to the floor.

Borrow him. Borrow.

The absurdity of it broke me. My laugh was bitter, raw. “No need to borrow,” I said, voice shaking. “Take him. Take it all. Everything I own—own it. I’m done fighting.”

I turned and walked away before my tears betrayed me further. Upstairs, I gathered everything that reminded me of Cyrus, gifts, clothes, letters, the trinkets he had once used to bind me to him. I carried them to the furnace room, my body trembling with every step.

The fire roared to life as I tossed them in. One by one, they burned. The lies, the empty promises, the fragments of a marriage that was never real. Smoke stung my eyes, but I didn’t look away.

Suddenly, strong arms wrapped around me from behind. His scent smothered me.

“Felicity—stop!” Cyrus’s voice cracked, uncharacteristically soft. He held me tightly, his chest pressed to my back. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for it to come to this. I just… I can’t let Dianna die. Please understand.”

His lips brushed my hair, his words trembling. “I’ll make it up to you. I’ll take you out on a date, just the two of us. I promise.”

I didn’t answer. My body sagged against his, too weak to fight, too exhausted to hope. Silence was all I had left.

That night, I fell into restless sleep, only to be jolted awake by his urgent hands shaking me.

“Felicity—wake up!” His voice was sharp, desperate. I blinked, groggy, as his face loomed over mine.

“What is it?” I rasped.

His eyes burned with something I had never seen before—fear. “Dianna’s sorcery has worsened. The healers say there’s only one way to cleanse her.”

My stomach sank. “What way?”

His grip tightened on my shoulders. “Your wolf core.”

My blood turned to ice.

“You have to give it to her,” he said, almost pleading. “If you don’t, she’ll die. But if you do… you can leave. You’ll still live. Just powerless. Please, Felicity. Don’t let her die.”

My wolf screamed inside me, a sound of raw betrayal. I stared at him, the man I had once trusted with my life, and saw the truth. He wasn’t asking. He was taking.

And in that moment, I knew—I was nothing more than a vessel to him.

Felicity’s POV

I had always known my wolf core was precious. Every pup in the pack was raised to protect it, to guard it as though it were our very soul, because it was. Without it, a wolf wasn’t whole. Without it, a wolf was powerless. And yet, they wanted mine.

Alpha Cyrus said it was the only way to save Dianna. His voice had cracked like thunder when I refused.

“You’re selfish, Felicity,” he spat. “Would you rather see her die?”

My chest burned, my wolf clawing inside me in protest, but I held my ground. “No one has the right to rip out my wolf core! It’s my life, my spirit. You can’t ask me to give that up.”

But he didn’t ask. He ordered.

His warriors dragged me to the hospital, my body thrashing uselessly against their iron grips. They strapped me down, the sterile stench of silver instruments filling my nose. My wolf screamed inside me—then everything went dark as they cut into me, ripping out the very essence of who I was.

When I awoke, I was weaker than I’d ever been. My veins felt hollow, my body cold. It was like someone had scooped out the fire that made me a wolf. I wasn’t sure if I’d ever shift again.

And then she was there.

Dianna. Standing at my bedside with a bouquet of lilies and sunflowers, smiling sweetly, as though she hadn’t just been the reason my life had been shattered.

“Felicity,” she whispered, setting the flowers on my lap. “I just wanted to thank you. Truly. Without your sacrifice, I wouldn’t be here.”

The smell of the pollen hit me instantly, burning my nostrils, choking me. My throat tightened, my eyes watered. I shoved the bouquet away, coughing.

Dianna’s face twisted in shock. “What are you—?”

Alpha Cyrus stormed in just then, his eyes catching the flowers scattered on the floor, and me gasping. His gaze went cold, sharper than a blade.

“How dare you?” he growled. “She came here to thank you, and you push her away like she’s dirt? Felicity, must you always be so cruel?”

“I—” I tried to speak, but the tightening in my throat made words hard to form. “I’m allergic… pollen…”

But he didn’t listen. He never did. His arm went protectively around Dianna, pulling her to his side like she was the one wronged.

“Enough excuses,” he snapped. “You should be ashamed.”

They left me there. Alone. Weak. Empty.

That night, I cried until my body ached. The tears weren’t just for my wolf core—they were for everything I had lost. My baby. My strength. My bond with the alpha who was supposed to protect me but instead destroyed me.

As the moon climbed high, my phone buzzed. A message lit the screen.

Alpha Damien:

[Tomorrow, I’ll come for you. Tell me where you are. You don’t need to stay there another day.]

My hands trembled as I typed back. [I’m at the hospital. I’ll go with you tomorrow.]

And for the first time in months, my tears slowed. My heart found a sliver of peace.

By morning, I was ready. More than ready. They had already stripped me of everything—my wolf, my child, my dignity. There was nothing left here for me.

But before Damien could arrive, another message came.

From Cyrus.

[Let’s go on a date today. After everything, we need it.] He added the name of a restaurant, as if that could patch the wounds he had carved into me.

My first instinct was to ignore him. But something inside me, some small remnant of the foolish girl who once believed in him, wanted to say goodbye. Properly.

So I dressed myself in the dress I had worn the night we first met. Pale blue silk, now a little faded, but still beautiful. Maybe I wanted him to remember what he had once had… and thrown away.

I arrived at the restaurant and waited. An hour passed. Then two. My food grew cold, my hope even colder.

It wasn’t until my phone buzzed again that I understood. It wasn’t him. It was Dianna.

Her post was public. A picture of her and Cyrus together at another restaurant. Her face pressed against his chest, his hand on hers. The caption read: “He came with me first. I was craving Biscoff tiramisu. My Alpha always puts me first.”

My hands shook, the phone slipping from my fingers. The whole room seemed to tilt, but instead of breaking, something inside me hardened.

Enough.

I stood and approached the manager, my dress trailing behind me like the ghost of who I once was.

“Excuse me,” I said softly. “If a man comes here, tall, broad-shouldered, dark hair… and alpha… tell him this is for him.”

I handed her a small box. Inside it, the fake marriage certificate Cyrus and I had signed months ago when he swore he’d make it real. And a vial. Clear glass, sealed tight. Inside was the tiny preserved form of the child I had lost. Our child.

It was all I had left to give him: the truth of what he had destroyed. Then I walked out.

The evening air was sharp and cool, carrying the scent of freedom. My heart pounded as I pulled out my phone one last time and dialed.

“Damien?” My voice was steady, though my hands trembled. “I’m ready.”

Minutes later, a sleek black car pulled up. The door swung open, and there he was—Alpha Damien. Tall, powerful, his presence commanding the night itself. His long dark hair framed a face both fierce and beautiful. His eyes softened when they landed on me.

He stepped out, his hand extending toward me. “Ready to leave them all behind?”

I swallowed hard, my chest tightening with both fear and relief. Then I nodded.

“More than ever.”

As I slid into his car, I felt something inside me shift. Not my wolf, she was too weak, too broken, but something else. Determination. Resolve.

The hospital, the pack, Cyrus, Dianna… they blurred behind me as Damien drove us into the night.

Before we disappeared, I took out my phone one last time, stared at Cyrus’s unanswered messages, and tossed it into the nearest trash bin. No connection. No trace.

When Alpha Cyrus realized I was truly gone, he could search every forest, every city, every border. He would never find me.

Because Felicity, the broken she-wolf, had died in that hospital bed.

And whoever I was becoming now… she was never going back.