By the time I got back to our rooms, rage and humiliation were burning through my veins.

No more waiting.

No more watching him play his twisted games.

I was going to confront him. Rip away that perfect mask once and for all.

An hour later, Byron returned.

He walked through the door carrying a thick, chaotic scent.

It was a mess of Ariana’s sharp floral perfume, his own cedarwood scent, and a faint, unsettling undertone of blood and herbs.

His face was etched with exhaustion, his shirt cuffs wrinkled and messy.

He saw me and froze for a second, then tried to force a smile. "Sandra? You're still up?"

I stood in the center of the living room, arms crossed, cold as a block of ice. "Where were you?"

"Handling a... difficult situation."

He walked to the liquor cabinet and poured himself a whiskey, his hand not quite steady.

"A difficult situation?" I sneered, stalking toward him. "Or was it just another one of Ariana's 'emergencies' that only you could handle?"

His hand froze mid-air. His back was to me, but I saw his shoulders go rigid.

"Sandra, don't."

"Don't what?" I circled around to face him, staring into his tired, golden eyes. "I saw you take her mind-link in the dungeon. I saw the frustration on your face. And now you come back reeking of her chaos. Byron, what the hell are our pup and I to you?"

"It's not—" he started, his voice a raw rasp, but he cut himself off.

As if the words were stuck in his throat, choking him.

"It's not what?" I pressed, closing in. Desperation and rage made me reckless.

"You smell like her! It's the kind of scent that only clings when emotions run high, when you're holding someone close! Tell me, are you tired of me? Was I just a tool to secure your position from the very beginning?"

"Enough!" He slammed the glass down, whiskey sloshing over the rim. His eyes were filled with pain. "It's not what you think!"

"Then what is it?" I screamed. "Explain it! Tell me why you sacrificed my brother and our unborn pup for her! Why does the entire pack have to bend to her every whim? What kind of hold does she have on you?"

"I can't tell you!" he roared, like a caged animal. "You're better off not knowing!"

"That same damn excuse!" I completely lost it. "'It's for your own good!' 'It's for the pack!' You always have a noble reason, don't you? Byron, I am done with your secrets and your lies!"

That was the moment I snapped.

My inner wolf surged, a tidal wave of fury and grief. Power exploded from me, uncontrolled.

The glasses in the room began to hum and vibrate. The lights flickered wildly.

Byron’s expression shifted from pain to pure alarm.

"Sandra, calm down!" He grabbed my shoulders. "Get control of your power! It's going to tear you apart!"

I could feel my sanity slipping, swallowed by the raging wolf inside me.

I wanted to destroy everything. Destroy him. Destroy this world of lies.

"Let go of me!" I struggled, my nails digging bloody lines into his arms.

"I can't!"

He stared at my eyes, which were beginning to glow red with uncontrolled power. A look of utter desperation and heartbreak crossed his face. "Your mind is about to shatter! Sandra, please, stop!"

But I couldn't hear him over the roaring in my ears, the sound of my own heart breaking.

"I'm sorry..." His trembling voice was a whisper from far away. "I'm so sorry. I can't let you destroy yourself..."

Then I felt it.

A gentle but unstoppable force, flowing into me through our mate bond.

No. He wouldn't—

"What are you doing?" I stared at him in horror. Tears were streaming down his face.

"I'm saving you," he choked out, his voice thick with an agony I couldn't understand. "Through our sacred bond, I, Alpha Byron... temporarily... seal your wolf."

"No!" I shrieked. "You can't! That's blasphemy!"

But it was too late.

The power began to drain out of me, like water from a cracked dam.

It felt like a hole was being ripped open in my very soul, everything precious pouring out.

My wolf, my soulmate since birth, let out a final, desperate howl.

And then, silence.

I collapsed to the floor, gasping.

My senses were dulling, fading away. My sharp hearing, my keen sense of smell, my night vision—all gone.

The worst part... my wolf was gone.

Completely vanished.

He knelt beside me, his own breathing ragged. His voice was a strained, painful whisper. "Sandra... are you... calm now?"

I tried to speak, but my voice was gone.

I tried to stand, but my legs were useless.

He took a deep breath, his face hardening into a mask of cold resolve. "This ends now, Sandra. Until you learn to control yourself, I'm holding onto your power. It's for your own protection. And for the protection of everyone else."

I looked up into his eyes, those golden eyes I used to adore.

All I could see now was cold, hard control.

My wolf, the other half of my soul, was silent for the first time in my life.

And in that terrible silence, all that was left was a cold, burning hatred.

After Byron left, I was alone on the floor.

Weak.

Hopeless.

Humiliated.

The evidence of our three years together surrounded me.

Our photos on the wall, the jewelry he gave me on the table, the books we read together on the shelf.

All of it mocked my stupidity.

I struggled to my feet, using all my strength to get to the wall.

"Go to hell."

I grabbed a vase and hurled it at our first photo together.

The sound of shattering glass echoed through the room.

My rage took over. It was a blur of shattering glass and splintering wood. I tore the room apart, reducing every symbol of his lies to wreckage. The jewelry box, the expensive decorations—all of it, garbage.

"Die!" I screamed. "All of it, just die!"

I shattered his necklaces under my heel, ripped his letters to confetti, and stomped on every beautiful memory until it was nothing but dust.

I kept going until I had no strength left to stand.

I collapsed among the wreckage, gasping for air. Without my wolf, I was weaker than a human.

Two hours later, Byron stood in the doorway again, his eyes taking in the wreckage.

"Sandra," his voice was thick with pain. "Why would you do this to our memories?"

I pushed myself up from the floor, my gaze like ice.

"Memories?" I laughed, a bitter, broken sound. "What memories? The ones where you lied to my face?"

He walked toward me, each step filled with an Alpha's grace.

"I did this to protect you," he said, his voice low. "To stop you from doing something reckless. Look at the state you're in—"

"Protect me?" I cut him off. "By ripping my wolf from me?"

But the words died in my throat.

A familiar scent hit me.

Even with my senses dulled, I could still smell it.

The scent of Ariana was wrapped around him, clinging to him like a second skin.

My eyes slowly drifted down to his chest.

Peeking out from his shirt pocket was the smooth, silver edge of something I knew all too well.

The Moonstone.

It had been passed down through my family for generations, a relic meant to soothe the powerful wolf within a Luna.

My mother gave it to me on my coming-of-age ceremony, telling me only my fated mate could ever hold it for me.

The day we mated, I gave it to Byron for safekeeping.

It was supposed to be mine.

And now, my stone was drenched in Ariana’s overwhelming scent.

He had just... he had used it to soothe another female.

"You were with her," my voice was a low, arctic wind.

Byron’s hand instinctively flew to his pocket, a dead giveaway.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"The Moonstone," I pointed, my voice trembling with a rage so deep it burned. "You took my Moonstone... and you used it on her. When I needed it most—after losing our pup, after you stole my power—you gave it to the monster who killed our child!"

The color drained from his face. His eyes were a chaotic storm of unexplainable pain and conflict.

"Sandra, it wasn't like that, I was just—"

"Just what?" I snapped. "Decided I wasn't worthy of it anymore? That because I stopped being your obedient little Luna, you could just give my birthright to your new favorite?"

"No!" he snarled, his eyes bloodshot. But he offered no other explanation.

I laughed.

The sound was sharp and manic.

"You know what?" I said slowly, the realization hitting me like a physical blow. "I finally get it. You're not an Alpha. You're a coward who has to break his mate to feel secure."

A dangerous light flared in his eyes.

"What did you say?"

"I said you're a coward," I repeated, each word a poisoned dart. "A pathetic creature who can't handle a strong female. So you had to strip away my power to make me as weak as you are."

"Shut up."

"A real Alpha doesn't need to crush his mate," I went on. "But you're not a real Alpha. You're just a monster wearing an Alpha's—"

His eyes glazed over.

Another mind-link.

Ariana again.

A few seconds later, he was back, his face a mask of pure exhaustion.

He clenched his fists, a flicker of alarm crossing his face as if something terrible was happening on the other end.

"Enough," he said, turning for the door. "I don't have time for this nonsense."

"Run," I called after him. "Run back to your little lover. Take my things with you and go soothe your wounded pride."

His steps faltered. His shoulders shook with the impact of my words.

"Sandra, if you keep this up, you're going to destroy what little we have left," his voice was a tired, raw scrape.

"What we have left?" I shrieked, the sound weak but full of venom. "The only thing I regret is ever loving a monster like you!"

Byron’s entire body went rigid, as if an invisible blade had just run him through.

Then he walked out of the room without a backward glance.

I watched him go, the hatred inside me burning hotter than ever.

I had to get out.

I had to find my father's men.

I dragged my weak body toward the door, but the second I stepped outside, several figures jumped out of the shadows.

Rogues.

Their eyes glowed with bloodlust.

"Byron!" I screamed in desperation. "Byron!"

But the night was silent.

He was gone, as if he had never been there at all.

Cold silver chains bit into my wrists.

I woke up tied to a metal chair in an abandoned warehouse.

Crumbling concrete walls and rusted machinery surrounded me.

My head was splitting.

"She's awake," a rough voice said.

I looked up to see three rogues circling me.

Their eyes glowed with a wild light, their faces twisted into sadistic grins.

"Finally awake, little princess," one of them said, walking toward me. "We've been waiting for you."

"What do you want?" My voice was a weak rasp.

"It's not what we want," another rogue grinned. "It's what your Alpha wants."

Alpha?

"Byron?"

"That's the one." The first rogue pulled a communicator from his pocket. "He said you weren't behaving. That you needed a little... lesson."

The communicator crackled to life.

"She's here, Alpha. Secure."

Byron's voice was a tired rasp on the other end. "Just watch her. Leave her alone for three days. Let her calm down. I'll pick her up after."

The connection went dead. The rogue grinned, a slow, ugly stretch of his lips. "Did you catch that? Your Alpha wants you to 'calm down.' We have plenty of ways to help with that."

My heart stopped beating.

It was really his voice.

My mate.

The man I once loved.

He had actually handed me over to these animals.

"I'll be back with Ariana in three days," he continued. "When I return, I expect to find a much more obedient Luna."

The call ended.

The rogues looked at me, their eyes filled with malice.

"You hear that, little princess?" one of them said. "Your Alpha gave us three days. We're going to have so much fun."

"He is not my Alpha," I hissed.

"Isn't he?" the rogue laughed. "Then why do you still carry his mark? Why is your wolf completely suppressed by him?"

I had no answer.

Because he was right.

"Don't worry," another rogue said, coming closer. "By the time we're done with you, maybe you'll be ready to love him again."

Just then, the warehouse door swung open.

A familiar figure walked in.

Ariana.

She wore an elegant black dress, a triumphant smile on her face.

"Well, well, look what we have here," she purred, crouching in front of me. "I came to admire my handiwork. To see the 'perfect' Sandra brought so low."

"What are you doing here?" I snarled.

"I came to admire my masterpiece," she said, crouching in front of me. "To see what the 'perfect' Sandra looks like now."

"You killer," I stared into her eyes. "Are you happy now that our child is dead?"

"Child?" Ariana laughed. "You mean that little accident? Honestly, I should thank the Moon Goddess for letting me 'lose control' at just the right moment."

She reached out and stroked my cheek.

"You know, Byron never wanted that pup. He told me that if you produced an heir, it would be much harder for him to get rid of you."

Every word was another silver knife in my heart.

"So you planned it all."

"Of course." Ariana stood up and began to pace around me. "But that was just the beginning. Do you want to know how your mother got her curse?"

My blood froze.

"It wasn't hereditary," she said, her voice dripping with venom. "It was 'Soul-Ember Dust,' a little something I bought from an exiled shaman."

"What?"

"It's a clever poison," she said, a mad light in her eyes. "It doesn't touch the body. It goes straight for the soul, severing the connection to her wolf and shredding the mind. It leaves her trapped on the edge of sanity, forever."

I tried to lunge, but the silver chains held me fast.

"You're insane!"

"Insane?" Ariana laughed. "No, I'm just making sure you'll never be a threat to my position. Your mother, your brother, your child, and now you."

She leaned in close, her voice a poisonous hiss.

"And Byron? He knew about all of it. He even helped me cover my tracks."

Endless, mental torture.

My mother wasn't sick. She was living in a hell this woman had designed.

And Byron knew everything.

Something inside me snapped. Primal hatred erased everything else.

I was a cornered animal, throwing every ounce of my strength against the silver chains.

The metal tore deep gashes into my skin, blood pouring down my arms.

I didn't care.

I just wanted to tear this venomous woman apart.

With a guttural roar, I lunged, sinking my teeth into the soft flesh of her throat.