“No.” My voice was calm as I yanked my arm free. “I won’t give her my moon-blood.”

Thorne’s eyes darkened at once, the Alpha mark on his throat pulsing faintly. “Don’t start this again, Rayna. Her wolf core is failing. The healers said she needs blood bound to the full moon. Yours matches.”

“That has nothing to do with me,” I said flatly. “I’m not the only one breaking.”

Arion stepped closer, his scent sharp with anger. “How can you be this cold? She’s fading, Rayna.”

“She’s not fading,” I snapped. “She’s acting. Just like when we were pups—every time she wanted attention or an excuse.”

Axton slammed his palm against the wall. “Enough. You sound unhinged.”

Before I could move, hands closed around my arms.

All of them.

I fought back—kicked, twisted, tried to shift—but I was still injured, still weak, my wolf barely responsive. Three grown wolves were more than enough. They dragged me out of the territory house like I was property, shoved me into a vehicle etched with pack sigils, and drove straight to the Moon Healers’ Hall.

I barely had time to think.

Within the hour, runes burned cold against my wrists.

No one asked for permission.

No one listened as I begged.

Moon-needles pierced my skin. Silver-lined tubes drained dark blood glowing faintly with lunar light. Healers exchanged tense glances as more vials were ordered.

The world tilted.

Then darkness swallowed me whole.

***

When I woke, I felt hollow.

As if my wolf had been scooped out, leaving only an empty shell. My limbs were heavy. Cold crept through my chest. Light stabbed my eyes.

The first face I saw was the last one I wanted.

Rionna.

She sat beside the bed, holding a small tray etched with healing symbols. “You’re awake,” she said gently. “I brought you nourishment.”

For a heartbeat, my heart almost believed her.

Then everything rushed back.

I knocked the tray from her hands. It shattered against the stone floor.

The door burst open.

Thorne. Axton. Arion.

“What is wrong with you?” Arion snapped. “She came all this way for you.”

“You’re impossible,” Thorne added. “She’s trying to mend things, and this is how you act?”

“You forced me!” I shouted. “You bound me and drained my moon-blood!”

“Rayna…” Rionna whispered, tears trembling in her voice. “Please. We’re sisters. I only wanted peace between us.”

She stepped closer, arms lifting as if to embrace me.

Her lips brushed my ear.

“Do you understand now?” she murmured sweetly. “They’ve chosen already. So don’t resist.”

My body went rigid.

Thorne’s gaze sharpened. “Apologize. Now.”

My fingers dug into the sheets. “I did nothing wrong.”

Axton took one step forward. “Watch yourself.”

My throat tightened.

“…Fine,” I said quietly. “I’m sorry.”

Not because I meant it.

Because I had nothing left to fight with.

They relaxed, satisfied, like a broken thing had been corrected.

I turned my face to the wall and closed my eyes, pretending not to hear Rionna’s soft sobs or my brothers murmuring comfort until they finally left.

***

That night, my rune-phone vibrated.

Ardyn: [Tomorrow. Are you still ready?]

I stared at the glow, then typed back.

[Yes.]

***

By morning, I didn’t want to leave the Healers’ Hall.

My body ached. My wolf was silent. My heart felt worse.

But Thorne didn’t ask.

“We’re going,” he said coldly. “You owe her. You swore it. Stop acting immature.”

So I went.

Not because I wanted to. Because refusing only meant more punishment disguised as duty.

I wore a pale dress woven with old pack thread—the one from our first bonding feast. Back when I believed in forever. Back when his hand had felt like safety.

He told me to meet him at a restaurant on neutral territory.

Just us. To fix things.

So I waited.

I arrived early, unsure whether I hoped he would come—or hoped he wouldn’t.

Time passed. The moon lamps dimmed and brightened again.

“He should be here soon,” I told the server softly.

He never came.

Neither did Arion or Axton.

Then my phone buzzed.

Rionna.

Rionna: [Looks like they’re busy, sister. With me. Enjoy your meal alone.]

Photos followed.

Once, I would have broken.

This time, I didn’t.

***

I stood calmly and called the manager over.

“I need to leave a few things,” I said.

From my bag, I placed the papers on the table.

The false mating bond record. The healer’s report confirming the loss of my pup. The ring Thorne gave me five years ago.

“If he asks,” I said quietly, “tell him Rayna of the Feralwood Pack no longer exists.”

I walked out.

The bell chimed once—clear and final.

***

Ardyn was waiting outside. Just like he promised.

“Ready?” he asked, holding out his hand.

I nodded. “Completely.”

We drove straight toward the airship port.

Inside the car, I scrolled through old messages, old names.

Then I removed the rune-chip and dropped it into a bin.

Gone.

As I boarded the ship beside Ardyn, a calm I hadn’t felt in years settled deep in my chest.

Tomorrow, they might notice.

They might panic.

They might search.

But they will never find me.

Never again.

The pack manor was unnaturally quiet when Thorne returned late that night with Rionna, Arion, and Axton. Their laughter echoed through the stone corridor as they struggled with the warded lock, still drunk on moonwine and the thrill of the evening.

After leaving the neutral-territory tavern, they had lingered far longer than they should have—celebrating without restraint.

Thorne entered first and snapped his fingers, triggering the light runes.

Nothing happened.

The corridor remained drowned in shadow.

“What the hell?” Thorne muttered, activating the sigils again.

The runes flared to life, revealing the great hall.

Chaos.

Cushions lay scattered across the floor. Dishes sat untouched on the long table. A faint trail of dried mud streaked toward the door. The manor looked abandoned, as though no one had tended to it all day.

Thorne’s jaw tightened. “What is this mess?” he snarled. “Rayna! Explain this—now!”

Silence answered him.

He turned sharply toward the stairs, but Rionna caught his arm, laughing lightly. “Relax,” she said. “Don’t ruin the night. She’s probably sulking again. Asleep, maybe.”

“She always does this when she wants attention,” Arion added, kicking off his boots.

Axton smirked. “Yeah. Leave her alone. She’ll clean it up by morning like she always does.”

Thorne hesitated. “But this place—”

Rionna tugged him closer, her voice lowering. “Come to bed,” she whispered against his ear. “Don’t let her spoil tonight.” She chuckled softly. “She’s probably hiding somewhere, pretending she still matters. You know how dramatic she is.”

That ended the discussion.

With one last glance at the stairs, Thorne allowed himself to be pulled away.

Inside the chamber, Rionna slowly unfastened her dress, letting it fall like a performance meant to be seen. “You know,” she murmured, looping her arms around his neck, “this used to be her room, didn’t it?” She smiled coldly. “Must hurt—realizing she’s been replaced, even here.”

Laughter soon dissolved into muffled sounds behind the sealed door.

The rest of the manor stayed dark and untended, while inside that room, Thorne erased Rayna’s existence with every touch and whispered mockery.

***

Morning sunlight pierced through the curtains.

Thorne groaned, then jolted upright. “Damn it—my council meeting!”

Rionna shifted lazily beside him. “What meeting?”

“You didn’t wake me,” he snapped.

She stretched. “I didn’t know I had to.”

He threw off the covers and dragged on his trousers. “Rayna should’ve woken me—where is she?”

Storming into the hall, he called out, “Rayna!”

No response.

His frown deepened.

He checked her chamber.

Empty.

The bed untouched. No scent. No presence.

That was when Arion and Axton emerged, still half-asleep.

“What’s wrong?” Arion asked.

“She’s gone,” Thorne said tightly. “She’s not here.”

“Maybe she went out early,” Rionna said lightly from behind him. “She’s probably sulking again.”

They went downstairs.

The kitchen was silent. No breakfast. No steaming cups of brew. No food warming on the hearth.

Nothing.

Thorne slammed his palm against the table. “She didn’t even cook?!”

He pulled out his rune-phone and called her.

No response.

“Unreachable,” he hissed. “Where the hell is she?”

Rionna twirled a strand of hair. “She probably went to buy supplies.”

“No,” Thorne said sharply. “That’s not her. She never leaves the manor untended. She never misses my meetings. She never skips meals—”

He stopped.

A sick realization crawled up his spine.

“Last night,” he muttered. “The dinner…”

“What dinner?” Axton asked.

“I told her I’d take her out.”

Rionna’s gaze shifted. “You think… she waited?”

“She wouldn’t,” Arion scoffed. “She’s not that desperate.”

“Yeah,” Axton laughed. “She knew you were just saying it to shut her up.”

But Thorne was already grabbing his keys.

***

He drove like a man possessed.

At the restaurant on neutral ground, he rushed inside.

“There was a woman here last night,” he said urgently to the server. “She’s my Luna, Rayna. Did she say anything? Did she wait?”

The woman nodded slowly. “Yes. The Luna waited for hours.” She handed him an envelope. “She left this for Alpha Thorne Ridgefern.”

His hands shook as he opened it.

Inside lay her mating ring.

A copy of their bond record—stamped Nullified.

And a single document.

A healer’s certificate.

Declaring the death of their unborn pup.

The world tilted.

“Before Luna Rayna left,” the woman added softly, “she asked me to give this to you. And tell you to never find her again.’”

Thorne stood frozen.

The envelope felt heavier than any burden he had ever carried.

I stood by my parents' side, attending a wedding I had no desire to witness. The bride and groom were the "impoverished students" my parents had sponsored for years.

On the stage, the young couple choked back tears, voices trembling as they thanked my parents for their benevolence. It wasn't just tuition for high school and college. No, my parents' generosity had culminated in a commercial apartment worth over a million dollars—deeded entirely to them.

My father walked onto the stage and claimed the microphone, basking in the spotlight.

"Alex Woodward and Maya Swanson are exemplary young people," he announced, his voice projecting the authority of a tenured academic. "Their grades are excellent, and they possess the fortitude to endure hardship. I simply did my small part. I trust their future will only get brighter."

When the couple finally descended from the stage, I stared at them. Confusion curdled into something cold and tight in my stomach.

My mother noticed my gaze and leaned in, a flicker of guilt crossing her face. "Gabriel, think of the apartment as a loan. We wrote an IOU. They're about to get married—we couldn't very well let them sleep on the street, could we?"

I couldn't wrap my head around their logic.

"But that apartment..." My whisper came out harsh. "It was bought with twenty thousand dollars from Grandpa and Grandma, plus the twenty thousand I gave you. I'm dating someone too. Why didn't you consider *my* marriage?"

My father turned to me. His expression hardened into a mask of indifference. "You aren't married yet, are you? Besides, what we're doing is building good karma for you."

——

"Building karma for me?" A bitter laugh escaped my lips. "Am I supposed to thank you for giving away my future?"

My mother tried to soothe me. "Gabriel, the apartment can be taken back. Don't worry about it."

"Taken back? How? With a flimsy piece of paper?"

My questions only fueled my father's irritation. He glared at me, eyes dark with warning. "There is a wedding happening right now. Do not cause a scene."

My mother chimed in, clearly thinking I was being petty. "Didn't you say you wanted to focus on your career? You aren't in a rush to buy a house. Besides, whether your relationship even works out is another matter entirely."

I stared at them blankly. Words failed me.

Were these really my biological parents? In what world do parents not hope for their own child's success?

"You want to play the saints? Fine, I can't control that." My voice shook with suppressed rage. "But that apartment contains half a lifetime of savings from my grandparents. And the twenty thousand I scraped together working all these years."

That snapped my father's patience.

"What are you trying to imply? You want us to pay you back?" He scoffed. "Can't you act like a big brother for once? Even if you share no blood, Alex and Maya are your siblings in spirit!"

Our hushed argument had begun to draw the attention of nearby guests.

Lily Woodward, Alex's mother, approached us with a wine glass in hand, oblivious to the tension. Overflowing with gratitude, she toasted my father, declaring that without my parents, her son would have nothing.

My father didn't hesitate. He stood up, downed his wine, and beamed. "Maya is a good girl. You must treat her well."

Lily nodded vigorously. "Rest assured, Professor Fox. It is the least we can do."

*Professor.* The title scraped against my nerves like nails on a chalkboard.

My father had taught for thirty years in the Chinese Department at a local university. I understood the old-school mentality, the obsession with reputation. But time and again, they sacrificed what belonged to me to impress outsiders.

Why?

It had been this way since childhood. They always claimed it was for my own good, but it was nothing more than vanity. They lived for their "face."

"I don't care about your charity projects." My voice cut through the noise of the banquet. "Give me back Grandpa and Grandma's money. Give me back *my* money."

My mother immediately gripped my arm, nails digging in, signaling me to shut up.

"That is the blood and sweat of two generations," I continued, undeterred. "It is not a prop for your ego."

If our family were wealthy, perhaps I wouldn't care. But the truth was, we had barely saved anything over the years.