The Moonstone Pack's grand hall smelled of roasted venison, honeyed bread, and spiced wine. I had spent the entire day preparing for the Luna Eclipse celebration—a sacred night when the pack gathers to honor the Luna's bond with the Alpha. It was my seventh year as Luna, and I foolishly hoped tonight might remind Julius of who we once were.

The kitchen was warm, filled with the hum of bubbling stews and the crackling of the hearth. As I was plating the final dish, Julius’s voice echoed from his study, sharp and clear. I froze, the tray slipping slightly in my hands.

"I hate being here," he muttered, venom dripping from his words. My heart clenched. "I'd rather be with you tonight, Amaya."

Her lilting voice responded, teasing yet confident. "Oh, Julius, you shouldn't say such things."

"It's true," he insisted. "In my eyes, you're the one worthy of being Luna. Hell, the whole pack agrees with me."

My grip tightened on the tray, knuckles white against the silver handles. The stew threatened to spill over, mirroring the storm brewing inside me.

"I miss you," Amaya said, her voice softer now, almost purring.

I heard the scrape of a chair and Julius’s heavy footsteps. He didn’t even hesitate. "I’m coming," he said, slamming the door on his way out.

The kitchen fell silent except for the crackle of the fire. My chest felt heavy as the realization settled in: this night, meant to honor my role as Luna, was just another excuse for Julius to abandon me.

I steadied myself, forcing my feet to move. When I stepped out of the kitchen, the dining hall was eerily empty. None of the pack members had arrived. The long wooden tables, adorned with wildflowers and ceremonial candles, sat untouched.

Panic prickled at the edges of my mind until my phone buzzed. Curious, I unlocked it and opened the pack's social app.

There it was: a video posted by Amaya. She was nestled in Julius’s arms, glowing under the golden light of her cottage. The pack was there, celebrating with her, laughing and howling as if she were their true Luna. The caption beneath read:

"A Luna Eclipse celebration I'll never forget. Thank you to my Alpha and my pack for making it so special!"

My breath caught in my throat. My hands trembled as I rewatched the video. Amaya’s house was alive with festivity—wolves shifting under the moonlight, trays of food I had prepared gracing her tables. And Julius... he was smiling. The kind of smile I hadn’t seen in years.

Something inside me snapped.

This was no misunderstanding, no mistake I could forgive. The bond between Alpha and Luna was sacred, yet he had tarnished it beyond recognition.

I glanced around the empty hall, the lifeless decorations mocking me. The pack I had devoted my life to—my strength, my care—had turned their backs on me. And Julius... Julius was celebrating with the woman he claimed was more deserving of my title.

That was the moment I knew. I couldn’t stay.

I returned to the kitchen, my hands shaking as I wiped down the counters and packed up the untouched food. The effort felt futile, but it gave me something to do as my mind raced.

I couldn’t remain tethered to a mate who treated me like this. I couldn’t lead a pack that followed his betrayal.

When I was done, I climbed the stairs to our quarters, each step heavier than the last. Julius’s scent lingered in the air, once a comfort but now suffocating. I began packing my belongings.

Seven years of being his Luna, and everything I owned fit into a single leather suitcase.

Before leaving, I checked the pack’s social feed one last time. Another update from Amaya. This time, she was holding Julius’s hand, her head resting on his shoulder. The caption read: "No one makes me feel safer than my Alpha."

I clicked the heart icon beneath the post and quickly sent Julius a message:

"The kitchen is clean. The food is ready. Enjoy your celebration with Amaya."

I closed the door behind me, stepping into the cool night air. The crescent moon hung low in the sky, its silver glow filtering through the trees. The forest was silent, save for the whisper of the wind through the leaves. I pulled out my phone, my fingers trembling as I scrolled to a name that had always brought me comfort: Leslie.

Leslie had been my mother’s closest friend for years, but she had always been more of a mother to me than the woman who raised me. Where my mother wielded her love as a weapon, Leslie offered hers freely, with no conditions or expectations.

The phone rang twice before her warm, steady voice came through. "Isolde? Sweetheart, it’s late. Is everything okay?"

I hesitated, swallowing the lump in my throat. "Leslie, I... I don’t know what to do. I think I need to leave the pack."

There was a pause on the other end, then a sigh. "I wondered how long it would take for this moment to come," she said softly.

"You knew?" My voice cracked, the dam of emotions threatening to break.

"I’ve seen the way Julius treats you," she admitted. "And I’ve seen how much you’ve given up for him, for this pack. But Isolde, a Luna isn’t a doormat. She’s the strength of the Alpha, not his shadow."

The tears I’d been holding back began to fall. "I thought I could make it work. That if I tried hard enough, if I gave enough, he’d see me, respect me. But he doesn’t, Leslie. He never has."

Her voice was firm but kind. "You deserve more than this. Leaving doesn’t mean you’ve failed. It means you’ve chosen yourself, and that’s the bravest thing you can do."

"But where would I even go?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper.

"You’ll come to me," she said without hesitation. "You’ll have a place to stay, and time to heal. The world is bigger than the Moonstone Pack, Isolde. There’s a life waiting for you beyond its borders, one where you can be free to be yourself."

I felt relief, the weight of her words settling over me. "What if leaving makes me a rogue? What if—"

She interrupted gently, "Being a rogue isn’t a curse, Isolde. Sometimes, it’s the first step to finding your true pack. And you’ll never be alone as long as I’m here."

A silence stretched between us, broken only by the rustling of the forest around me. Finally, I said, "I think I’m ready to leave, but... it’s so hard to let go."

"It’s supposed to be hard," Leslie said. "But the hardest paths often lead to the brightest futures. You’re stronger than you think, sweetheart. And when you’re ready, I’ll be here waiting."

For the first time that night, a faint sense of hope flickered within me. "Thank you, Leslie. For everything."

"Always," she replied, her voice a steady anchor in the storm of my emotions. "Now, get some rest. You’ve got a journey ahead of you, but I know you’ll find your way."

As the call ended, I stood under the crescent moon, the cool night air brushing against my skin. I wasn’t ready to leave just yet, but I knew the decision had already been made in my heart.

And when the time came, I wouldn’t be walking away alone. Leslie’s unwavering support would be with me every step of the way.

The bus hissed to a stop in front of the old pack village– Ebyrafalls. The air was thick with damp earth and the faint scent of pine, a far cry from the Moonstone Pack's sprawling, luxurious estate. I adjusted the strap of my bag, steeling myself for what was to come. My hometown had never been a place of solace, but I needed to retrieve a few things before moving forward.

As I approached the modest wooden house, my mother stood in the doorway. Her eyes scanned the empty road behind me, and when she realized I was alone, her face fell into a scowl.

"Where's Julius Crane?" she demanded, her voice sharp.

I tightened my grip on the bag. "He’s not coming. And he won’t be coming here again."

Her eyes narrowed, and before I could react, her hand flew across my face. The sting was instant, but it was the familiar weight of humiliation that hit harder.

"You ungrateful little wretch!" she spat. "Do you have any idea how much shame you’ve brought on this family?"

I staggered back as she grabbed a nearby broomstick and swung it at me with alarming force. Each blow came with venomous words that cut deeper than the wood.

"You couldn’t even give your husband an heir!" she yelled, her voice carrying through the still village. "A useless Luna who can’t continue the bloodline. Do you think Julius will waste his life on a barren woman like you?"

Her words hit a raw nerve. My throat tightened as memories surfaced—of the sleepless nights I’d spent agonizing over my inability to give Julius a child. At first, he had comforted me, telling me it didn’t matter, that our bond was enough. But as the years passed, his patience thinned. Every argument somehow circled back to my “failure,” a sharp knife he wielded to cut me down.

Her words hit a raw nerve, and I could feel the tightening in my throat, the dull ache that memories always brought with them. It wasn’t just about Julius anymore; it was about me, about everything I wasn’t.

I thought back to the nights when I’d lain awake, staring at the ceiling, the weight of failure pressing against my chest. Failure as a woman, as a wife, as whatever society demanded me to be. Those sleepless hours bled into days, then years, the quiet hope inside me dimming until it was nothing but an ember I’d tried to ignore.

Julius used to hold me during those nights. He’d whisper into my hair that it didn’t matter, that I was enough, that we were enough. And I believed him because I needed to. I clung to his words like a lifeline, even as doubt coiled in the back of my mind, whispering truths I wasn’t ready to face.

But comfort has an expiration date, doesn’t it? Love, I learned, was conditional. Over time, his patience began to fray. It wasn’t immediate—it started small, with sighs when he thought I wasn’t looking, a trace of disappointment in his eyes he wouldn’t acknowledge. Then came the words, the accusations, the blame he didn’t dare to voice at first.

“Maybe if you tried harder…”

“Have you thought about why this keeps happening?”

“You don’t want this enough, do you?”

Each phrase was a dagger aimed at the softest parts of me, designed to make me bleed without a single drop visible to the world. And every time, I stayed silent, nodding along because I thought I owed him that. I owed him everything.

When did love turn into obligation? When did the arms that once held me become the cage that trapped me? I couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment, but somewhere along the way, Julius stopped seeing me as his wife and started seeing me as his failure. His burden.

And I let him

"And let’s not forget," my mother continued, "you’re the reason your father’s dead! That accident was your fault, Isolde. Your fault!"

Her words pulled me out of my thoughts like a slap. The old accusation, buried but never forgotten, resurfaced with a vengeance. My chest tightened as I struggled to breathe, the memories of that terrible day clawing their way to the surface.

Rain began to fall, heavy droplets soaking us both. My mother finally relented, panting from her tirade. She shoved me back and threw my childhood belongings into the muddy yard.

"You’re not my daughter anymore," she said coldly. "Go die in the woods for all I care. Just don’t come back here without Julius. Or better yet, with his heir!"

I bent down, ignoring the blood dripping from my forehead as I gathered my scattered belongings. A childhood trophy landed at my feet, its sharp edge cutting into my palm as I clutched it.

A sleek black car pulled up, its tires splashing mud onto my soaked shoes. The door opened, and Julius stepped out, holding an umbrella. My heart sank further when I saw who was with him: Lana, Amaya’s closest friend.

"Isolde," Julius said, his tone sharp as he grabbed my arm. "Get in the car. We’re going home."

Lana stepped out, her stiletto boots sinking slightly into the wet earth. She gave me a cursory glance, her lips curling into a mocking smile.

"Julius," she said sweetly, "are you sure she can handle riding in the same car? She looks a little... rough around the edges."

I froze, anger simmering beneath my skin, but Julius ignored her comment. He tugged me toward the car, his grip firm and unyielding.

"Enough, Lana," he said, though there was no real reprimand in his tone. "Isolde, you’re embarrassing yourself. Get in."

As he pushed me into the backseat, the scent of Amaya’s perfume clung to his coat. It was suffocating.

Lana climbed into the passenger seat, glancing back at me with a sly smile. "Hello, Isolde, I'm Amaya's friend. I’ve heard so much about you, Isolde. Julius talks about how devoted you are. It's... inspiring."