Lavinia’s POV

After the Moon Court issued our mating bond decree, I went to the Silverforge Hall to retrieve our ceremonial rings. Only then did I discover the set contained two.

One bore my name, engraved with lunar runes. The other belonged to Syrelle Feralwood—Alpha Ryke Silverfang’s childhood mate, the she-wolf he had once sworn his first moon to.

I carried the rings back to the pack manor, ready to confront him. Instead, I walked in on Ryke escorting a pregnant Syrelle across the threshold.

The moment I stepped inside, the two of them acted as if they ruled this territory. Ryke spoke with the ease of an Alpha issuing commands.

“Syrelle needs protection now,” he said flatly. “Prepare her meals every day—moon-balanced food only. She’s delicate, so she’ll take the Alpha chamber. Pack your things and move out.”

I didn’t respond. I didn’t even want to ask about the rings anymore. I turned and headed toward my room.

Before I could take three steps, my communicator rang.

My mother’s voice shook like leaves before a storm. “Your father… he was attacked. His legs are shattered. Come to the infirmary—now.”

I rushed out of the manor. When I arrived at the Moon Healer’s Hall, I learned the truth.

Ryke had done it.

All because my father had accidentally looked at Syrelle while passing through neutral territory. Ryke lost control of his wolf and struck him down, accusing him of filthy intent, crushing his bones beneath Alpha force.

I called him, rage burning through my veins. His voice, however, was calm—almost bored.

“Your father frightened Syrelle,” he said. “His gaze was impure. What if it startled the pup? How can you be so cold-hearted? She carries my heir, and you still defend him?”

I bit down hard, swallowing every word. When the call ended, I dialed another number.

“The mating bond is void,” I said quietly. “Withdraw the pack shares. In seven days, I want them stripped of everything.”

***

When I returned to the manor, I hadn’t even removed my boots before Ryke’s voice fell from behind me.

“Lavinia, leave your moonstone bracelet. Syrelle’s been plagued by nightmares. She needs its blessing more than you.”

My body stiffened.

That bracelet was the last thing my younger sister left me before she died—her wolf core shattered under a blood moon.

I turned slowly. My fingers were numb. Ryke saw the crimson in my eyes and showed no hesitation, no remorse.

“Name your compensation,” he said coolly.

Nine years.

Nine years of bowing my head in a bond without warmth, loving him down to the bone.

And to him, all of it could be reduced to a price.

I didn’t even want to know what value he placed on my heart.

When I met his gaze, there was only disdain looking back at me. Memories surged without mercy.

There was a time when I had been cherished. A time when the man I loved still lived beneath the same moon.

My body had always been frail. Whenever moonfire food upset my stomach, the pain would leave me curled and shaking. He would cook herbal porridge infused with lunar warmth, testing every spoonful before feeding me himself.

When I grew petulant, he would pull me into his arms, his warmth steady against my back, whispering that the ache would fade.

When sorrow weighed me down, he would sit beside me from dusk to dawn, waiting patiently for a single smile.

Now, I lowered my head and slowly pushed the bracelet down my wrist.

Its jagged edge cut into my skin. Pain flared sharply. When I lifted my hand, blood welled in a thin line.

Tears fell before I could stop them, darkening the stone floor.

Was the pain truly only flesh-deep?

I exhaled slowly and placed the bracelet onto Syrelle’s wrist. I even managed a calm, composed smile.

“May the pup you carry be born safely under a kind moon.”

Ryke looked at me with what he clearly thought was approval.

“As long as you’re obedient,” he said, “my heir will be yours as well.”

Ridiculous.

Before his words fully settled, the bracelet slipped from Syrelle’s wrist and shattered against the floor.

Moonstones cracked apart, fragments scattering like frostbitten glass. One shard grazed her leg, drawing a thin streak of blood.

Ryke moved instantly, panic erupting. He swept her into his arms as if she were made of spun crystal.

“Why are you standing there?” he roared at the steward. “Summon the Moon Healer—now!”

Every gaze in the hall turned toward me, sharp with mockery, as though I were the culprit.

Honestly, I nearly laughed.

Syrelle’s voice trembled softly, fragile as mist. “It’s my fault… the bracelet Lavinia gave me slipped. I’m so careless.”

Ryke clasped her hand, his tone gentler than moonlight. “Don’t blame yourself. That thing carried bad omen anyway. It’s better that it broke.”

I went still.

The only thing my sister had left me—dismissed as cursed.

My grip tightened around the handle of my travel case, fingers icy. I couldn’t bear to look at them any longer. Another second, and I would vomit.

I turned to leave.

Then my communicator vibrated again.

“Lavinia,” my mother sobbed, “come back to the infirmary. Your father… he’s been crippled…”

The hall fell silent.

Ryke and Syrelle heard everything. Neither of them spoke. Not a trace of guilt crossed their faces.

I didn’t look back.

I ran straight out into the night, beneath a moon that no longer felt like mine.

By the time I reached the Moon Healer’s Hall, my legs were barely holding me up.

My father lay unconscious on the stone bed. His eyes were shut tight, his face dark with bruises left by Alpha force. His chest was bound in layered rune-cloth, and one leg—crushed beyond healing—was sealed inside a thick moon-cast, cold and gray like carved rock.

The moment my mother saw me, she broke down. She clutched my hand, her voice trembling as she told me everything.

My father had been reduced to this… because of Ryke.

Because he wanted to shield his childhood mate—pregnant with his heir. Because my father had merely glanced at Syrelle while passing through pack territory.

Ryke never questioned him. Never verified the truth. He unleashed his wolf on the spot, condemning my father as vile and accusing him of terrifying a pregnant she-wolf.

Hearing it felt like my chest had been torn open.

Staring at my father, barely breathing beneath the moon wards, I swallowed my shaking hands and summoned the Pack Tribunal.

Soon, the trial date arrived.

That day, Ryke entered the Moon Court hand in hand with Syrelle, calm and composed, as though they were attending a ceremonial gathering rather than a judgment.

When they saw me, there was no remorse in their eyes—no discomfort at all. It was as if the one they had nearly killed was not a living wolf, but something disposable.

“Is this really necessary, Lavinia?” Ryke’s voice sounded behind me, sharp with impatience. “You’re making a spectacle.”

I didn’t turn around. My voice was ice-cold. “You left me no other path.”

Then I walked into the Moon Court without sparing them another glance.

The trial began.

Ryke immediately assumed a solemn, righteous air, his tone steady and convincing—like a wolf wronged by circumstance.

“To my knowledge,” he said clearly, “my father-in-law fixated his gaze on Syrelle. He disrupted neutral grounds and frightened a pregnant she-wolf. Had I not intervened, the consequences could have been far worse. I acted to uphold pack law. I would rather defend justice than protect blood ties.”

As he spoke, he positioned Syrelle behind him, shielding her like a fragile treasure.

Then he glanced at me with clear irritation.

“Instead of caring for an injured elder, you come to accuse me? This is the Moon Court. We deal in proof, not feelings. Withdraw the charge. If your family suffers consequences from this, I will not bear responsibility.”

Only then did I finally understand.

Why she stopped me from summoning the Tribunal. Why she refused to testify, even when I knelt before her.

From the beginning to the end—she stood beside Syrelle.

I clenched my teeth, forcing my rage down, and made one last attempt to reach whatever conscience he had left.

“My father treated you as his own pup,” I said hoarsely. “He guided you through pack ranks, backed every promotion, helped you claim your Alpha ambitions. He gave you everything he had.”

“Now he lies between life and death because of you. You are his son by bond. Can you truly sleep beneath the moon after this?”

Ryke scoffed, his expression full of contempt.

“Pack law is neutral. I stand on the side of truth, not sentiment. I am willing to testify that his leg was already damaged. This incident has nothing to do with me.”

He lied smoothly, without the slightest flicker of emotion.

My hands shook as I submitted the surveillance crystal I had preserved.

It was the key evidence—clearly showing Syrelle striking my father first.

But when the crystal activated, the image dissolved into static moonlight.

The evidence had been replaced.

Syrelle looked at me, lips curving faintly, silently forming two words:

Foolish.

Only two people had access to that crystal.

Me… and Ryke.

I slammed my hands onto the stone table and stood up abruptly.

“Ryke! You altered the evidence! Have you lost every shred of conscience?”

Ryke remained calm. Beneath the table, he gently squeezed Syrelle’s hand, soothing her as though calming a frightened pup.

“Syrelle has a gentle heart,” he said softly. “She didn’t wish to escalate this matter. She wanted to leave your family a way out. Yet you came here full of hostility, trying to frame her.”

Then, without haste, he submitted an audio recording to the court.

My father’s voice suddenly echoed from the sound crystal.

“So you’re Syrelle? The pup you’re carrying might not even be his. Give me five million spirit coins, or I’ll destroy you.”

My entire body went cold. The last thread of reason in my mind snapped.

Impossible.

The recording was forged.

My father had been unconscious since the Alpha assault. I had reviewed the patrol crystal dozens of times—those words had never existed.

Syrelle’s brows knit together as she spoke in a trembling, fragile tone, as if she had been cornered.

“He threatened me. I barely escaped.”

Ryke pulled her into his arms at once, his voice cold and final.

“Lavinia, I will never pardon you. Your father’s crippling is punishment from the moon itself.”

Then they submitted wave after wave of fabricated proof, accusing my father of blackmail, intimidation, and assault.

The presiding Moon Judge barely glanced at it. A few hollow words later, the verdict was delivered.

I lost.

In a single stroke, my father and I were branded as manorins—wolves who failed at extortion and turned vicious against a pregnant she-wolf.

Snickers and jeers rippled through the gallery. I clenched my fists until my nails cut into my skin.

The moment the hearing ended, before we could even step beyond the Moon Court gates, the crowd had already sealed the path.

Syrelle emerged amid flashing spirit lamps and outstretched hands. Tears glimmered in her eyes, her hands folded together like a falsely wronged saint.

The crowd’s rage and pity erupted at once, fingers stabbing toward my mother and me.

I stood there, the cold night wind biting into my face, already numb.

This wasn’t justice.

It was a trial scripted from the very beginning.

Ryke wrapped Syrelle in his arms, his voice soft with feigned devotion.

“Don’t be afraid, Syrelle. No one will ever threaten you while I breathe. I’ll keep you safe.”

The crowd roared louder.

Someone recognized me and flung a rotten egg in my direction.

A bucket of rancid animal blood crashed over my head, running down my neck and soaking into my clothes. The stench was suffocating—cold, degrading.

“She’s a she-wolf too, yet she tried to trade someone’s honor for profit. Does she have no shame?”

“If the Moon Judge hadn’t been fair, that poor girl would’ve been destroyed!”

“Her father deserved to be crippled! A daughter like that is cursed to a miserable end!”

Their curses pierced me like barbed arrows.

I bit my lip until blood filled my mouth, mixing with the foul stench in my throat.

Only then did Ryke glance at me, frowning as if I were something filthy beneath his feet.

“Stop struggling,” he said coldly. “If you behave, I might still remember our bond and allow you to stay by my side in peace.”

My voice scraped out, barely steady.

“Never. Even if I lose everything, I’ll fight you until the end.”

Ryke’s gaze darkened.

“Still refusing to repent.”

Syrelle bent slightly, looking at me with gentle pity.

“I’m sorry about your father,” she said softly, “but even if the moon turned back time, I would never agree to such a demand.”

Ryke followed smoothly, playing the role of the just Alpha.

“I am her mate, but I answer to justice. I cannot allow corruption to poison the pack.”

The crowd was completely inflamed.

“What a noble Alpha! How did he end up bonded to a woman like her?”

“A she-wolf like that would push any man to sever the bond!”

Watching Ryke’s performance made my stomach twist.

My knees suddenly gave out, and I staggered forward.

Ryke shoved Syrelle aside and drove his foot into my chest.

“Trying to feign injury in the Moon Court now? How was I ever foolish enough to love something so revolting!”

Pain detonated in my chest, stealing the air from my lungs.

Yet deeper still—in the place he once guarded—it hurt far more.

Three years ago, when his enemies ambushed him beneath a blood moon, I had thrown myself in front of the blade meant for his heart.

And now, the only thing he remembered was how to destroy me.

Syrelle tugged at his sleeve, her soft voice instantly reclaiming his attention.

“Ryke, my stomach hurts again. Could you make me some warm porridge? You always do it best.”

He agreed without hesitation and led her away, his arm wrapped tightly around her.

I watched their figures disappear into the night, feeling something inside my chest collapse, piece by piece.