Rhea's POV

“What madness are you speaking?” Malachi thundered.

I watched as his face tightened with Alpha rage. The air in the room became heavy, the pressure of his power trying to force me to submit, but I stood my ground. I did not flicker.

“The eight years are finished, Malachi. I am leaving this pack,” I stated firmly.

Malachi scowled, his eyes flashing gold. “What is your problem? Why are you acting like a pup? I told you, Marc is just a child. Do not take his temper to heart. Today is his birth-feast. Come. I will punish him when the moon is high.”

Malachi grabbed my hand, his grip like iron, and tried to pull me toward the Great Hall. I yanked my arm back, breaking his hold.

“You gave your word. You said when he reached his eighth year, I could go. Why are you surprised?” I asked.

Before he could growl an answer, a sharp, hateful voice came from the shadows behind us.

“Rhea, have you no shame? Always trying to steal the light, even on the boy’s special day!”

I didn’t need to turn to know that voice. It was Hestia, my step-mother and Marc’s grandmother. She was the one who had made the pact with Malachi. She promised that once Marc’s wolf began to stir at eight years old, I would be free. Why was she acting as if she had forgotten?

“I am not stealing anything, Hestia. You are the one who set the time. Eight years. I have served them,” I said.

Hestia scoffed, crossing her arms over her furs. “Must you howl about this now? On my grandson’s birthday?”

“It is fine. I am sure Rhea is just tired,” Malachi intervened.

Years ago, my heart would have softened at his protection. Now, I saw it for what it was—a pathetic trap to keep me in my place.

“Come. Let us go to the feast,” Malachi said.

I stayed quiet and let him lead me to the hall. The fire was roaring, and the pack was already eating. Marc and the other pups were playing near the hearth, but his face turned sour the moment he scented me.

“Look, Marc! Your mother is here!” one of the pack members called out.

Marc sneered, his lip curling. “She is not my mother!”

I stood frozen as Malachi sighed and grabbed Marc by the shoulder.

“We do not speak such words, Marc. Rhea is your mother. She has raised you since you were a cub,” Malachi stated.

Marc’s face twisted with a dark look. “No! She can never be my Luna mother. Everyone, look at her! This is the woman who killed my real mother!”

Whispers moved through the hall like a cold wind. The guests stared at me, their eyes judgmental.

“She is only the boy’s aunt.” “Why does the pup hate her so much?” “It is clear she has not cared for him well.”

“Apologize to her now,” Malachi commanded Marc.

I stepped forward and stopped him. “It is alright. It does not matter anymore.”

I walked out of the hall, my face calm. In the past, those words would have felt like a silver blade to my heart. But I had finally accepted the truth: Malachi’s heart would always be buried in the ground with Via, and Marc would always see me as the shadow that stole her place.

“Why must you cause a scene today?”

I heard Hestia’s sharp voice as she stepped into my path outside.

“What do you want, Hestia? I have played my part for eight years. I am done,” I said.

“You should love Marc like your own blood! You should bear his anger and care for him. If my daughter were still alive, he would be a happy prince,” she snapped.

I shrugged, too tired to argue. “A pity your daughter is dead.”

Hestia raised her hand to strike my face, but I caught her wrist mid-air.

“Do not try it, Hestia. I am not the weak girl you bullied eight years ago. The contract is over. Marc is eight, and I have every right to go.”

Hestia yanked her hand away, rubbing her sore arm and glaring at me.

“Go then, Rhea. This is why no one will ever love you. Not even your father wants to see your face!” she hissed before vanishing into the dark.

A sad smile touched my lips. It had been eight years since my father looked at me. Since his favorite daughter died, he had treated me like an outcast.

“I am sorry... I got you a gift.”

A small, quiet voice spoke behind me. I turned to see Marc standing there with an innocent smile. He was holding a small wooden box tied with a string.

I felt a spark of hope. “Oh, Marc... you didn't have to.”

He giggled, a sound that seemed too sweet for this night. “I wanted to. Please, open it.”

I took the box and pulled the string. As the lid opened, a terrible smell hit me. Inside the box lay the small, lifeless body of my pet cat. It had been pierced by a hunter’s arrow.

“That will be you soon,” Marc whispered, his smile never fading, “if you don't leave me and my father alone.”

Rhea’s POV

I was mortified staring at my only pet that I had been allowed to bring to the mansion. Same way I have taken care of Marc.

“Don’t mess with me and don't get my father upset with me!” Marc snapped.

I watched as he stomped off while I stared at the arrow in my cat’s body.

Fate is indeed mocking me because I was the one who taught Marc how to shoot arrows. I taught Marc everything he knows and now he's using it against me.

I cradled the box as I stared at Faye, my best friend and a single tear slipped from my eyes.

“Why are you out in the cold, Rhea? Don't get sick on me!” Malachi’s voice came through the door.

He immediately stood behind me as he draped me with his jacket which I shrugged off.

“What’s wrong?” he queried.

His face twisted in slight disgust when he saw the dead cat in the box.

“Your son came to apologize,” I stated.

Malachi’s frown deepened, “He’s your son too.”

I scoffed, “He hates me Malachi! He killed my cat.”

“Come now, let’s go inside. I'll have a talk with him in the morning and you can bury the cat tomorrow. I'm sure he was just messing around and it was a silly prank,” Malachi said.

I shrugged away from him as I carried the cat and headed into the garden. I wasn't going to let my cat stay out all night for some animal to poke at him.

Malachi followed me, complaining about how I was being stubborn but he stayed with me while I buried Faye.

When I was done I went inside. The party was over and the guests had all gone home. It was already late and windy.

I sneezed just as Malachi held me. We got to my room and he sat me down on his laps. I cringed inwardly.

“What do you want?” I snapped.

Malachi sighed, “What’s wrong, Rhea? I'll get you a new cat.”

“I want to leave, Malachi. Tomorrow,” I stated.

Malachi tensed, “Marc is a child. I don't trust anyone to take care of him except you. Besides, where do you want to go? It’s not like you have anyone else.”

I shrugged, “I’ll worry about that. I have no place here. You have refused to marry me after eight years.”

Malachi sighed, “I already told you, Rhea, I can't take another wife now.”

“I’m not asking you to. In fact, I don't want to marry you, I just want to leave.”

“Okay, why don't you have a child for me? That way I can secure your future and that of your child. If you have a child for me no one would dare say a bad word against you. And then Marc will have a little sibling.”

I smiled sadly. I had reduced myself to nothing and discarded my pride and yet eight years still he wants me to have an illegitimate child for him.

All this just to protect Marc and keep me in the same house as him.

“I’ve instructed the maid everything she needs to know about Marc. He's homeschooled so you can get the best tutors for him or send him to school. He doesn't need me again,” I stated.

Malachi kissed me, “Sleep on it and tell me how you feel in the morning.”

That night I didn't sleep a wink. I packed my luggage and I kept seeing the face of Faye.

Morning came sooner than expected and after a quick shower I dragged my suitcases outside.

It was finally happening. I was leaving.

But of course, I wasn’t going to leave in peace.

A slow clap echoed through the courtyard, followed by a familiar, mocking voice.

“Well, well, well,” Casey drawled, leaning against the pillar with a smirk. “Have you finally come to your senses?”

I sighed, Casey was Malachi’s mistress and Marc’s favorite.

I ignored her and kept walking, but she stepped into my path, tilting her head in amusement.

“Eight years, Rhea,” she continued, crossing her arms. “Eight years of playing house, of waiting for a man who never wanted you. And now, after all that time, you’re finally leaving.” She chuckled. “Took you long enough to realize that Malachi and Marc will never love you. You’ve been nothing but a worthless concubine.”

I met her gaze, my expression unreadable. “Enjoy it, then,” I said simply. “Do whatever you want. None of this concerns me anymore.”

Her smirk widened. “Oh, I will. Don’t worry,” she whispered. “Soon, I’ll move in and take your place.”

Before I could respond, the front doors swung open.

Malachi stepped out, followed closely by Marc.

And in an instant, Casey’s entire demeanor changed.

She gasped dramatically and dropped to her knees, clutching the hem of my dress as if her life depended on it.

“Rhea, please!” she sobbed, her voice thick with desperation. “Please don’t go! Marc needs you! You’ve been taking care of him all these years—how could you just leave him like this?”

I stared down at her blankly.

“Marc loves you, he really does,” she continued, her voice cracking. “He’s just a child! Please, don’t leave him. I’m so sorry for everything, just please, Rhea—”

Malachi let out a harsh sigh, his patience clearly worn thin.

“Enough of this nonsense,” he snapped. “Stop creating a scene and go back inside.” His eyes were cold, as they always were. “I’ll get you another cat if you want. Stop making Casey stress herself.”

I clenched my fists, but before I could say anything, Marc ran toward Casey, throwing his arms around her.

“Stand up, Casey,” he said softly, his small hands wiping away her fake tears. Then, his eyes met mine, burning with hatred. “You killed my mother with your wicked heart,” he spat, his voice filled with disgust. “And now you’re trying to hurt Casey, too!”

Marc turned back to Casey, his face softening. “Don’t cry, Casey. Don’t worry. Let Rhea go—I don’t want her in my life. I don’t need her.” He lifted his chin, his next words cutting deeper than any wound. “I want you to stay. You should be my mother. You should marry my father.”

He turned back to me, his eyes filled with nothing but scorn. “You’re a wicked woman with a bad heart. That’s why my father could never love you.” A slow, cruel smile tugged at his lips. “I’m happy you’re leaving.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat and took one last look at the boy I had raised, the boy I had loved like my own.

“After eight years, if this is what you think of me… then there really is no point in me staying,” I said with a sigh.

Without another word, I turned and walked away.

Just as I was dragging my suitcase towards the gate, Marc pulled the crossbow and shot at my head.

Rhea’s POV

“Don’t think that if you play the victim, I will let you stay and be my stepmother!” Marc’s voice cracked with adolescent rage. “If you have the strength to leave, then go and never crawl back!”

The silver-tipped arrow, heavy with the boy's hate, hissed through the air. I tried to twist away, but the bolt grazed my shoulder, tearing through my skin and embedding itself in the muscle. A pained scream ripped from my throat as I collapsed onto the cold stone.

Malachi was at my side in a heartbeat. He gathered me into his arms, his face pale as I gritted my teeth against the searing fire in my shoulder.

“I am so sorry, Rhea,” he choked out, his voice trembling.

Suddenly, a sharp cry pierced the air. Casey let out a wail, and Marc screamed right after her.

“Father! Come quickly! Lady Casey twisted her ankle trying to help that witch!” Marc cried out, pointing at the grass.

Malachi’s eyes darted between my bleeding wound and Casey’s pitiful sobbing. He looked torn for a single second, then he let out a heavy sigh and released his hold on me.

“It is a clean wound, Rhea. Go to the pack’s healers; I will meet you there. I must carry Casey inside—she cannot walk,” he stated, his voice regaining its Alpha coldness.

If my heart broke further, I didn't let it show. I stayed on the dirt, watching as the man I had loved for eight years walked away from me again. He lifted Casey in a bridal carry. Over his shoulder, I saw the smug, viper-like look she gave me as they disappeared toward the carriage, Marc following close behind.

I was left in a pool of my own blood, shot by the very hand I had guided in the hunt. Fate was a cruel goddess.

I struggled to find my footing when a shadow fell over me.

“You wretched girl! Why are you still on our lands? Did you not howl to the whole city that you were leaving?”

I knew that bitter scent. It was Hestia, Malachi’s mother. She had never seen me as anything more than a stain on her family’s name. I managed to stand, facing her with a trembling jaw. She gasped, but not with pity—only with disgust at the blood on my clothes.

“Do you wish to bring shame to my son? Why must you choose to die here? Go and breathe your last outside our borders!” she hissed.

“I was leaving... but your grandson shot me,” I whispered.

She scoffed, her eyes cold as Moonstone. “You probably hurt yourself just to look pitiful. You want Malachi to take pity on you and beg you to stay. You know you have no rank here the moment you turned your back on the Pack.”

“I want nothing from your bloodline, Hestia! It was the boy who did this!” I snapped, the pain making my wolf growl.

“Then you should have no trouble leaving,” she sneered. Before I could move, she grabbed my travel boxes and tossed them out past the iron gates into the dirt.

“Get out!” she snarled, shoving me toward the boundary line. “Go and die in the wild. Leave my son in peace!”

I staggered and fell, my hand clutching my shredded shoulder. The iron gates slammed shut behind me.

“You will all regret this!” I swore into the wind, my heart burning with a new, dark rage.

I managed to drag my boxes to the road just as the carriage I had summoned arrived. The driver, a beta from a neutral territory, hopped out. “Apologies for the delay, Lady.”

“It is fine,” I muttered, pulling myself into the seat.

He stared at the blood soaking my dress. “Are you still heading for the Great Border?”

I shook my head, feeling lightheaded. “Take me to a healer first.”

I leaned my head against the glass, and the world went black.

---

The next thing I knew, the steady thump-thump of a heart-monitor filled my ears. I was in a clean, white room. I tried to sit up, but a sharp spike of pain shot through my arm. My boxes were stacked by the bed.

The door creaked open, and a healer in a white coat walked in. “Lady Rhea, how are you feeling?”

“What happened?” I groaned. “The last thing I remember was the carriage.”

The healer nodded. “You lost consciousness. The driver brought you straight to us.”

I sighed and reached for my phone. No missed calls. No messages from Malachi. His son had nearly killed me, and he hadn't even bothered to check if I was breathing. I quickly typed a message to the contact I had reached out to before.

Something happened. Reschedule my departure ASAP.

“Lady Rhea?” the healer called. “You lost a great deal of blood, but the herbs have done their work. You will be discharged shortly.”

“Thank you,” I said, my voice steady.

I stood up and reached for my bags. I was ready to vanish. But the door swung open again, and Casey sauntered in. She wasn't limping. In fact, she looked perfectly fine.

“What do you want? I thought your ankle was broken,” I said coldly.

She giggled, a sound that made my skin crawl. “Oh, that? I just wanted to see who Malachi would choose if we were both in pain. And he chose me! Isn't it wonderful?”

I scoffed, turning away. “Have your victory, Casey. I am leaving.”

Casey stepped into my path, a slow, poisonous smile curling her lips. “There is one more thing you should know,” she whispered, her voice dripping with triumph. “I am carrying Malachi’s pup. I am pregnant.”

The world seemed to stop. My heart shattered, but I kept my face like stone. I would not give her the satisfaction of seeing me bleed.

Eight years. Eight years at his side, and every time we were together, he made sure I took the mountain-root herbs to prevent a pregnancy. He had always told me he wasn't ready for more children.

He had always wanted another heir. Just... never with me.