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.

My teeth tore through the skin of Ariana's throat.

The taste of blood exploded in my mouth.

"Ahhh!" she screamed, stumbling back, clutching the bleeding wound. "You lunatic! You bit me!"

Blood gushed between her fingers, staining her elegant black dress.

"Kill her!" she shrieked at the rogues. "Teach this bitch a lesson!"

The first lash hit my back.

The silver-laced whip tore through fabric and flesh, the poison searing my veins like fire.

Without my wolf's healing, the pain was a fire burning through my nerves.

"This is what you get for biting me!" Ariana howled, still clutching her throat.

The second lash. The third.

Each one landed precisely on my back, my arms, my legs.

The silver kept the wounds from healing, blood weeping from the torn flesh.

"Is that enough?" one of the rogues asked.

"No!" Ariana's eyes burned with a mad fire. "Break her leg! I want her to know what happens when you defy me!"

"Wait, Miss Ariana, the Alpha said not to—"

"I said break her leg!" Ariana screamed. "Byron won't blame me for what happens to this trash!"

The rogue hesitated for a second, then raised an iron bar.

"No!"

The sickening crack of bone echoed in the warehouse.

Agony exploded behind my eyes, threatening to drag me into darkness.

I could feel the jagged edges of the bone tearing through my muscle.

But with no wolf to heal me, all I could do was endure the blinding pain.

"That's still not enough," Ariana said, walking up to me and looking down. "I want you to remember this moment. Remember the consequences of defying me."

She turned to the rogues.

"Lock her up. No food, no water for three days. Let her think about what she's done."

Darkness swallowed me.

Three days.

For three whole days, I was left in that cold warehouse.

No food. No water. Just endless pain and the torment of silver poisoning.

The agony in my broken leg made sleep impossible.

The whip wounds on my back festered, the smell of rot filling the air.

By the fourth day, consciousness was a distant shore I couldn't reach.

By the fifth, hallucinations were my only companions.

On the morning of the sixth day, the door finally creaked open.

"Time's up," a rogue said coldly. "The Alpha wants us to drop you off."

They tossed me out like a piece of trash at the edge of the Blackwood territory.

I lay on the cold, damp earth, gasping for air.

Every breath was a fresh wave of agony.

A communicator buzzed inside my torn clothes.

An emergency call from my mother's sanctuary.

"Miss Sandra!" the caregiver's voice was frantic. "They cut off the Moonpetal three days ago!"

Moonpetal.

Three days ago.

The day I was taken.

"What?" I forced the words out. "How could—"

"We've contacted every supplier we know. They've all been given the same order from on high: the Blackwood Pack is cut off."

Orders from a higher power.

Only one person had that kind of authority.

Byron.

I forced myself to dial my father's number.

"Sandra? My God, your voice—"

"Father," I said weakly. "Send men to move my mother. Right now."

"What happened?"

"Byron cut off the Moonpetal. She doesn't have much time."

"I'll send them immediately. Where are you?"

"On my way," I said, struggling to my feet, my broken leg screaming in protest. "Give me two hours."

I dragged my broken body to the sanctuary.

My mother lay on the bed, her face pale as a sheet. Her eyes were open but unfocused. She was already half-gone.

"She's been like this since last night," the caregiver whispered. "The damage to her spiritual link is accelerating. Without the Moonpetal to calm her, the curse is getting stronger."

I took my mother's cold hand.

"How long do we have?"

The caregiver hesitated, then answered with a tremor in her voice.

"It was Alpha Byron," the caregiver whispered, her voice trembling. "He personally ordered the shipments stopped seven days ago. He timed it. He knew that without Moonpetal, her mind would shatter within three days..."

Seven days ago.

The day after I lost my child.

He had planned it all.

The death of my child was just the beginning.

My mother's pain was his weapon.

My brother's imprisonment was his leverage.

And I was just a pawn in his game.

My father's men arrived quickly and moved my mother to safety.

I left the sanctuary, dragging my battered body back to the place I once called home.

In the living room, I sat at the table and wrote out a document with a trembling hand.

A Mate Bond Severance Agreement.

Two copies, with clear terms and a binding curse.

Just as I finished the last word, I heard footsteps behind me.

"Sandra?"

Byron's voice.

"What are you writing?"