For three years of our bonded marriage, every meal in the pack manor had been prepared by my father and me. Even when we were feverish or burning with sickness, Ryke never once stepped into the hearth.

Yet now, he was willing to cook moon-porridge for another she-wolf.

A bitter laugh escaped me, sharp as a blade slicing open my chest.

Just before getting into the carriage, Syrelle suddenly turned back. Her expression was gentle, pure, almost saintly.

“Don’t stain your hands over vile people,” she said softly. “The moon always judges fairly.”

The surrounding crowd was instantly moved.

Someone even spat at me.

More voices hurled curses as they dispersed.

I straightened my back, every injury screaming in protest. But when I thought of my father, I clenched my teeth and ran back to the Moon Healer’s Hall.

Wherever I passed, fingers pointed at me.

Only then did I realize the Moon Court footage had already spread through the crystal network.

Syrelle had become the fragile moon-blessed maiden the entire realm wanted to protect.

My father and I were branded as leeches—schemers, manorins, extortionists.

When I entered the ward, my father lay buried beneath layers of bandages. Both legs were shattered, his breathing unsteady, each breath trembling.

My chest tightened so painfully I nearly collapsed.

The other patients whispered among themselves.

“That kind of wolf is vicious. Injuring himself just to fake a crime.”

“Keep them away. Don’t let them try to extort us too.”

I tried desperately to explain, but no one listened.

My father shook with rage, pounding weakly against the bed.

He had spent his life helping others—yet now he was being humiliated like this, all because he trusted the wrong Alpha.

He looked at me, eyes hollow with despair.

“I treated Ryke like my own son. He’s never suffered injustice in his life. Why would he help others destroy me? What did I do wrong?”

I broke down completely. Tears streamed down my face.

But the mockery didn’t stop.

“Cruel wolves like you deserve this fate.”

More people gathered at the door, their gazes filthy with hatred.

I couldn’t let my father endure another moment. I decided to discharge him immediately.

Then the healer brought the bill.

I froze.

Every fee had been inflated more than tenfold.

The healer lowered his voice. “You offended someone far above you. Some prices must be paid.”

Pack guards closed in, their stance unmistakably predatory.

They had no intention of letting us leave unpaid.

My hands shook as I pulled out my communicator—only to see my balance reduced to nothing.

Ryke had drained it all.

I called him at once.

His voice was lazy, faintly amused. “Syrelle hasn’t been sleeping well. Think of it as compensation for her distress.”

“That’s my father’s healing cost!” I shouted.

“As long as you publicly admit you slandered Syrelle,” Ryke replied calmly, “she’ll give you a generous sum.”

“His legs are already ruined. There’s no point saving him. Admit fault and let him rest comfortably for the rest of his life.”

“When this is over, we can live properly together again.”

Then came a dull thump on his end—followed by intimate, breathless sounds.

I understood instantly.

My communicator slipped from my fingers. I covered my mouth, bile rising violently.

Before the healer could summon guards, the Pack Enforcers arrived.

“Ryke and Syrelle have reported an attempted extortion,” one said coldly. “We’re taking him for questioning.”

My father had just undergone surgery. His pain was unbearable.

I knelt and begged.

The enforcers shook their heads. “Orders from the Alpha Court. Our hands are tied.”

I tried to shield the bed, but they accused me of obstructing pack law.

My father was dragged away, fresh blood soaking through the bandages on his legs.

I chased after them—but at the corridor corner, a black sack was yanked over my head.

Fists and boots rained down on me.

“How dare you touch Alpha Ryke’s woman. Know your place.”

“Don’t kill her. She’s still his mate.”

“Mate? Ryke never cared for her. His heart’s always belonged to Syrelle. If she hadn’t forced the bond, this marriage would’ve never existed.”

I don’t know how long the beating lasted.

When it finally ended, I lay curled on the cold stone floor—motionless, broken, like discarded prey.

Seven years ago, when Ryke first inherited control of the pack’s trade dominion, it was my father who exhausted every alliance and favor he had to help him steady the unstable territories.

Later, when I was abducted by rogue wolves, it was Ryke who tore through their den and carried me out on his back beneath a blood-stained moon.

That night, I cried in his arms, believing I had found the Alpha I could rely on for life.

And now—because of another she-wolf—he had driven my father and me into ruin.

Fortunately, only three days remained.

I dragged my battered body back to the manor, only to see piles of luggage dumped outside the gates. My chest seized painfully.

Everything that belonged to my father and me had been thrown out.

This territory had been purchased with my father’s lifetime of savings.

What right did Ryke have to cast us out?

I felt dizzy, barely able to breathe. As I turned to leave, I glimpsed the interior through the half-open door.

Syrelle was sitting on Ryke’s lap, feeding him moon-warm porridge.

I forced my shaking hands to steady, raised my communicator crystal, and silently recorded.

Ryke’s arm circled her waist, fingers restless. His voice was low, intimate.

“Back then, I was nothing. I had to secure a political mating and let you belong to another pack. You’ve suffered all these years.”

Syrelle’s cheeks flushed, her smile sweet and clinging.

“No. Even after I bonded elsewhere, did we ever truly separate? You’re the only one who’s ever satisfied me, Ryke…”

His restraint snapped. He bent down and kissed her fiercely.

“When the pup is born, we’ll leave territory together. Agreed?”

Syrelle hummed softly.

“Last time I conceived, you forced me to end it. Why keep this one?”

My heart clenched violently.

Half a year ago—she had been pregnant.

That was also when I conceived, and Ryke forced me onto the Moon Healer’s table, claiming it would interfere with his duties.

I had thought it was ambition.

But the truth was simpler.

Syrelle hadn’t allowed it.

My fingers trembled, but the recording remained steady.

Syrelle pressed against his chest, her voice dripping with venomous sweetness.

“We didn’t know whose pup it was back then. How could I let someone else bear a mongrel?”

Wet, clinging kisses followed.

Her breath turned soft and tangled.

“Don’t worry. This time, the pup is ours.”

Each word struck me like a blade through the heart.

I couldn’t watch anymore. I lowered the crystal and turned away.

But my legs failed me. I misstepped and knocked over a vase near the door.

It shattered loudly.

Ryke rushed out at once. When he saw my disheveled state, his expression stiffened briefly before anger flared.

“What have you done to yourself now?”

In the next breath, he pulled Syrelle into his arms, shielding her instinctively.

“Trying to win my sympathy again? Stop using these pitiful tricks.”

Syrelle recovered quickly, letting out a light, mocking laugh.

“Thinking of dragging me before the Tribunal again? Accusing me of hurting your father? Who would believe you now?”

I looked at them coldly.

“If this affair is exposed, who the world believes is not up to you.”

Ryke’s eyes burned with fury.

“Lavinia, stop talking nonsense! I only invited her for porridge. What filth are you imagining?”

“If you’d just publicly apologize, we could still coexist peacefully. I’ll even give you a pup. Why won’t you submit?”

I had no interest in arguing. I secured the crystal and remained silent.

Just then, Syrelle spoke gently.

“Ryke, fetch another bowl of porridge. Mr. Fang doesn’t seem unreasonable. We can discuss things calmly.”

The moment Ryke left, her softness vanished.

She shoved me into the corner, her voice low and venomous.

“Do you know why I struck your father?” she hissed. “Because he deserved it. Who told him to show off in front of me?”

“Ryke is mine. Even if he bonded with you, his wolf has always belonged to me.”

“Your father deserved everything that happened.”

I lashed out instinctively, throwing a punch—but my body was already broken. I stood no chance against her.

In the blink of an eye, she slammed me to the ground.

Her foot pressed hard against my chest as she bent down, lips grazing my ear, her voice low and vicious.

“If you keep refusing to submit,” she whispered, “I’ll make sure you understand the price. Your father will die in a prison cell because of you.”

I struggled wildly and scraped my nails down her ankle, leaving a deep, bloody mark.

Just then, sensing Ryke approaching, Syrelle’s expression shifted instantly. She clutched her forehead and let herself fall backward as if I had shoved her.

Ryke rushed out at that exact moment. The bowl in his hand shattered on the stone floor, the crack echoing sharply through the hall.

He charged toward us, his face twisted by rage, his wolf aura flaring violently.

“Lavinia!” he roared. “How dare you lay a hand on Syrelle? Do you know what the pup she’s carrying is worth? Even your life and your father’s wouldn’t be enough to repay it!”

He grabbed my shoulders and shoved me with full force.

My body flew backward, my spine slamming into the sharp edge of the entryway. The impact felt like a war hammer crushing my chest.

Pain exploded through me. My vision went dark. I staggered, then collapsed.

Ryke’s furious shouting, Syrelle’s trembling sobs, and the murmurs of onlookers tangled together, piercing my ears like countless needles.

I tried to move—but my body refused to obey.

My consciousness fractured, slipping away rapidly.

In the final instant before darkness swallowed me whole, I saw Ryke frowning at me—yet his arms were wrapped tightly around Syrelle, shielding her, terrified she might be startled.

Then everything went black.

***

When I opened my eyes again, the first thing that struck me was the sharp scent of medicinal herbs and antiseptic moon salves.

A white stone ceiling wavered above me. I tried to move my fingers, but they felt weighed down, distant.

The curtain rustled aside. A healer stepped up to the bedside, his expression composed.

“You’re awake?”

I nodded. My throat burned as if scorched by dry sand.

The healer sighed softly, choosing his words with care.

“Lavinia, when you were brought in, you were suffering from severe internal bleeding.”

My heart clenched. I forced the words out. “So…?”

He paused briefly.

“The pup is gone.”

My breath caught, frozen in my chest.

“The… pup?”

The word slipped out of me, faint and disbelieving.

“You were three weeks along,” he continued gently. “It was too early to sense through moon magic. But your injuries were too severe. The embryo could not survive. We’ve already completed the necessary procedure.”

Cold spread slowly through my fingertips.

So I had been pregnant.

Amid the blows. The curses. The despair.

A tiny life had been growing inside me.

And now it was gone.

Because of their shove.

Because of their violence.

Because of their cruelty.

Seeing my silence, the healer lowered his voice.

“Your injuries were clearly caused by an assault. We’ve reported it to the Pack Authority. Once you recover, you’ll need to give a formal statement.”

I closed my eyes. My chest felt ripped open.

Ryke’s merciless shove.

Syrelle’s triumphant smile.

Her words about letting my father rot in prison.

Each memory sliced into me like a blade.

The pup was gone.

And the mating bond I had struggled to protect collapsed completely in that moment.

I opened my eyes. My voice was calm—cold as a winter moon.

“There’s no need to proceed with the report. Please preserve all healing records, emergency notes, and surgical documents.”

The healer paused, clearly surprised.

“…Very well. But you must rest.”

“Don’t worry,” I replied quietly, my tone leaving no room for refusal.

The healer could only nod and step out.