I did not remember leaving the festival grounds.

Only the weight of Sable’s hand locked in mine. Only the sound of the pack’s howls fading behind us, sharp and triumphant, like they were celebrating a victory instead of a betrayal. The night air felt too cold against my skin, biting through my dress, but I didn’t slow down.

If I stopped, I would break.

And I could not afford to break in front of them.

Sable struggled to keep up, her shorter steps uneven as she glanced back again and again. “Auri… where are we going?”

“Home,” I said automatically, though the word felt wrong in my mouth.

The pack house loomed ahead, its windows glowing softly, warm and familiar—and suddenly unbearably чужд. I ushered her inside, bolted the door behind us, and leaned against it, chest heaving.

Only then did my legs give out.

I slid down the wood, dragging Sable with me, my vision swimming as pain exploded behind my eyes. It felt like claws scraping the inside of my skull, like my wolf was thrashing against an invisible cage.

“Auri!” Sable cried, dropping to her knees beside me. “You said you weren’t sick!”

I pressed my forehead to the floor, fighting nausea, fighting darkness. “I’m okay,” I lied, again. “Just… just dizzy.”

She hovered, frightened now, small hands clutching my sleeves. “Did Alpha Father make you sick?”

The question pierced deeper than the pain.

I forced myself upright, pulling her into my arms. “No,” I said hoarsely. “This isn’t your fault. And it isn’t his fault either.”

The lie burned.

I held her tighter, breathing her in like oxygen, because the thought that crept into my mind terrified me more than the sickness ever could.

If I disappear, who will protect her?

---

I woke sometime later to silence.

The house was too quiet. The kind of quiet that didn’t mean peace—it meant something was missing.

My head throbbed. My limbs felt heavy, sluggish, as if my body had decided without me that it was done fighting.

“Sable?” I called, already sitting up.

No answer.

Cold dread slid into my chest.

I pushed myself out of bed and stumbled down the corridor, panic sharpening my senses despite the haze in my mind. Her room was empty. Her blankets neatly folded. Her moonstone comb gone from the vanity.

“Sable?” My voice cracked.

I hurried into the main hall, heart hammering, only to stop short when I saw the figures waiting near the hearth.

My parents.

And Alpha Vaelor.

My mother rose first, her expression tight, carefully composed. “You’re awake.”

“Where is my daughter?” I demanded, the words coming out sharper than I intended.

Vaelor didn’t look at me. His gaze was fixed on the fire. “She’s with the pack elders.”

My blood went cold. “You took her without my consent?”

“You were unwell,” my father said, his tone clipped, disapproving. “We didn’t want to disturb you in that state.”

“That state?” I laughed weakly. “You mean unconscious?”

My mother sighed as if I were being difficult. “Aurelian, please. Don’t make this harder than it already is.”

Harder.

Everything was always harder when it involved me.

I stepped forward, anger cutting through the fog. “She is my child. My responsibility. You had no right.”

Vaelor finally turned toward me. His expression was calm. Too calm. “She’s safer this way.”

“Safer from what?” I snapped. “From me?”

Silence stretched.

My mother looked away.

That was answer enough.

“You humiliated the pack last night,” my father said flatly. “Your behavior was inappropriate.”

“Inappropriate?” My laugh came out broken. “You watched your Alpha reject his Luna under the full moon, and I embarrassed the pack?”

“The Alpha made a necessary decision,” my mother said gently. “You should try to understand.”

I stared at her, something hollow opening in my chest. “Understand what?”

“That the pack needs stability,” she continued. “An heir. A Luna who can stand strong.”

I tasted blood again.

“So this is about strength,” I said quietly. “About appearances.”

Vaelor’s jaw tightened. “This isn’t personal.”

I looked at him fully then. “You rejected me in front of our daughter.”

“She needs to see unity,” he replied coolly. “Not weakness.”

The word hit like a slap.

Weakness.

I stepped back, suddenly dizzy again, my vision dimming around the edges. My wolf whimpered faintly inside me, exhausted.

“I want to see her,” I said. “Now.”

My father shook his head. “Not yet.”

Something inside me snapped.

“You don’t get to decide that,” I hissed. “None of you do.”

My mother moved closer, lowering her voice like she was calming a child. “Aurelian, listen to me. Virelya is with child. The pack is celebrating. This transition needs to be smooth.”

“Transition,” I echoed. “You mean replacement.”

She didn’t deny it.

“Until things settle,” she said, “it’s better for Sable to stay with her father. With the future Luna.”

The room tilted.

“You’re taking her from me,” I whispered.

Vaelor’s gaze finally flickered—just briefly. “She’s still your daughter.”

But the bond between us—mate, pack, family—felt like it was unraveling thread by thread.

“Leave,” my father said suddenly. “You need rest. This conversation is over.”

Over.

Just like that.

I stood there shaking, fury and grief tangling until I couldn’t tell them apart. “If anything happens to her—”

Vaelor cut in. “Enough.”

I laughed, a thin, hysterical sound. “You really think I’m the problem.”

He didn’t answer.

They left shortly after, their footsteps echoing down the hall like a verdict.

When the door closed, I sank to the floor, my strength finally giving out. My chest burned. My head pounded. My wolf was silent now—not even whimpering.

Just… quiet.

I curled in on myself, arms wrapped around empty air, and cried until there were no tears left.

---

Later, when the pain dulled enough for me to think, I reached for my phone.

No messages.

No calls.

Not from my parents. Not from Vaelor. Not from the pack.

I opened the pack network instead.

The first post froze my blood.

A photo of Vaelor and Virelya standing together beneath the moon. Her hand cradling her stomach. His arm around her shoulders.

For the future of the Nightborne Pack.

The comments poured in.

She looks perfect beside him.

Finally, a Luna worthy of the Alpha.

The pack will be stronger now.

Then I saw the second image.

Sable.

Sitting between them. Smiling uncertainly, but smiling nonetheless. Virelya’s hand resting lightly on her back, possessive.

My vision blurred.

The pain in my head surged violently, sharper than before. I gasped, clutching my temple as warmth slid down my nose.

Blood.

I wiped it away with shaking fingers.

My breath came shallow and fast. The room spun. My phone slipped from my hand as darkness crept in from the edges of my vision.

The last thought I had before everything went black was devastatingly simple.

They’ve already started teaching her how to live without me.

I woke to the sound of my own breathing—ragged, shallow, unfamiliar.

For a moment, I didn’t know where I was. The ceiling above me swam in and out of focus, white and cracked like old bone. My head felt split open from the inside, pain radiating behind my eyes in slow, merciless pulses. Every breath tasted wrong, metallic and dry.

I turned my head slightly and winced.

The healer’s room.

I recognized it by the faint scent of crushed herbs and antiseptic, by the soft glow of warding runes etched into the walls. Someone had laid me on a narrow cot and covered me with a thin blanket. My dress had been changed. My hair loosened.

I had collapsed.

Again.

The thought came with no shame left in it—only exhaustion.

A shadow moved near the doorway. My mother stood there, arms crossed, her expression tight with impatience rather than concern.

“You finally woke up,” she said.

I swallowed, my throat raw. “Where is my daughter?”

She sighed, as if I’d asked something unreasonable. “Still with the Alpha.”

My heart clenched painfully. “Bring her to me.”

“No,” she replied without hesitation.

I stared at her. “What did you say?”

“You heard me,” she said coolly. “You’re in no state to see her. The healers confirmed it—you collapsed from weakness and stress. Do you know how that looks?”

I pushed myself upright despite the way the room tilted. “I don’t care how it looks. She’s my child.”

“And she’s the Alpha’s heir,” my mother shot back. “Which means the pack comes first.”

The words landed like a blow.

“So that’s it,” I whispered. “I stop being her mother the moment I stop being useful.”

My mother’s jaw tightened. “Don’t dramatize this.”

“Don’t lie to me,” I said hoarsely. “You were there last night. You saw what he did. What they all did.”

She didn’t deny it.

Instead, she looked away. “Virelya is pregnant. The pack needs stability. You should be thinking about what’s best for Sable.”

I laughed weakly. “And you think what’s best is taking her away from me?”

“I think,” she said slowly, “that Sable deserves a Luna who can stand beside the Alpha without collapsing.”

The healer at the far end of the room shifted uncomfortably but said nothing.

I felt something inside me finally give—not shatter, not explode. Just… go quiet.

“Leave,” I said.

My mother frowned. “Aurelian—”

“Leave,” I repeated, firmer this time. “Or I swear I’ll make a scene that even you won’t be able to smooth over.”

She studied me for a long moment, then turned and walked out without another word.

The door closed softly behind her.

I lay back against the pillows, staring at the ceiling as tears slid silently into my hair. My wolf didn’t stir. Didn’t protest. Didn’t rage.

She was too tired.

---

They released me near dusk.

No apology. No concern. Just a reminder to rest and avoid emotional stress—as if my life hadn’t already been reduced to a series of things I was no longer allowed to feel.

I walked back to the pack house alone.

The halls felt colder than they had that morning. Empty. Stripped. My steps echoed too loudly, as if the house itself was announcing that I no longer belonged.

I found her in the common room.

Sable sat on the floor, surrounded by new toys—expensive ones. Hand-carved figures. Enchanted stones that glowed faintly when touched. Gifts meant to impress, not comfort.

And beside her sat Virelya.

She looked up when I entered, surprise flashing across her face before smoothing into something gentle and composed.

“Auri,” she said softly. “You’re awake.”

Sable turned.

Her eyes lit up for half a second. “Auri!”

I barely had time to breathe before she continued, her voice bright with innocent excitement.

“Luna Virelya got me all these!” she said, gesturing wildly. “She played with me all afternoon and told me stories about the moon!”

The word hit me late.

Luna.

Not Aunt.

Not Virelya.

Luna.

I felt it like a blade sliding between my ribs.

I forced myself to kneel in front of her, my movements slow and careful. “Baby,” I said gently, “you don’t have to call her that.”

Sable frowned, confused. “But Alpha Father said she’s going to be our Luna now.”

I looked up.

Virelya’s gaze met mine—calm, almost apologetic. “I didn’t tell her to,” she said quietly. “She heard it from the elders.”

Of course she had.

I swallowed hard. “Sable, look at me.”

She did, obedient as always.

“I’m your Luna,” I said softly. “I always have been.”

She hesitated.

Just for a second.

Then she glanced back at Virelya, who smiled encouragingly and opened her arms slightly.

Sable shifted closer to her without realizing it.

My chest caved in.

“But Luna Virelya makes Alpha Father happy,” she said slowly, like she was working through a problem. “And everyone says she’s strong. They said the pack needs her.”

I couldn’t breathe.

“So I should call her Luna too,” Sable finished. “Right?”

I felt my wolf finally stir—not in anger, not in jealousy, but in pain so deep it was almost reverent.

“No,” I whispered. “You should call people what feels right to you.”

She studied my face, searching for something I could no longer give her.

Then she said, quietly, “Luna Virelya feels… safer.”

That was the moment something in me truly died.

Vaelor entered the room then, his presence filling the space like a storm cloud. He glanced between us, assessing, calculating.

“This isn’t helping,” he said.

I stood slowly, my knees shaking. “You did this.”

“I did what was necessary,” he replied flatly.

“She’s seven,” I said. “And you’re already teaching her how to replace me.”

“She needs stability,” he said again, like it was a spell that excused everything.

Virelya rose gracefully, resting a hand on her stomach. “Auri,” she said gently, “please don’t make this harder. Sable needs peace.”

I laughed—a raw, broken sound. “Peace? You took her from my arms while I was unconscious.”

Vaelor’s eyes darkened. “Watch your tone.”

“I’m her mother,” I said, my voice shaking now. “And you’re acting like I’m already dead.”

Silence fell.

Sable looked between us, fear creeping into her expression. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No,” I said immediately, turning back to her. “Never.”

I reached out, brushing her hair back one last time, memorizing the feel of it. “I love you,” I whispered.

She nodded, uncertain. “I love you too… Auri.”

Not Luna.

Not Mother.

Just Auri.

I straightened and stepped back.

Vaelor didn’t stop me.

Virelya didn’t follow.

And Sable didn’t call after me.

As I walked out of the room, my legs trembling, one thought echoed endlessly in my mind:

They won’t need to kill me.

They’re already teaching my daughter how to live as if I’m gone.

I didn’t go to my room.

If I had, I would have broken something I could never put back together.

Instead, I walked until the corridors thinned and the pack house fell silent behind me. The night air sliced into my lungs as I stepped outside, cold and sharp, but it was easier to breathe here than inside walls that no longer wanted me.

The moon hung high—full, radiant, merciless.

Once, it had answered me.

Now it only watched.

I reached the edge of the sacred grounds without remembering the path there. My feet knew it by instinct, even if my heart wished it didn’t. This was where mates came to swear vows. Where bonds were strengthened under moonlight. Where I had once knelt beside Vaelor, blood on our palms, believing forever was a promise instead of a convenience.

The ground was empty.

Good.

I sank to my knees anyway, the frost biting through the thin fabric of my dress. My breath came uneven, each inhale scraping like glass. The pain behind my eyes had dulled into something heavier, more dangerous—pressure that pulsed in time with my heart.

My wolf stirred faintly.

Not strong enough to rise.

Not strong enough to howl.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered to her, my voice breaking. “I tried to protect you.”

She didn’t answer.

I pressed my hand to my chest where the mate bond burned—no, rotted—a tether that had once glowed warm and steady. Now it felt frayed, infected, like something that should have been cut away long ago.

I didn’t want him back.

That truth settled quietly.

What I wanted was for the pain to stop.

Footsteps crunched behind me.

I didn’t need to turn to know who it was.

“Get up,” Vaelor said. “You’ll freeze.”

I laughed softly, staring at the moon. “You came to check if I was still alive?”

His silence was answer enough.

I stood slowly, the world tilting, and faced him. Up close, he looked exactly as he always had—strong, controlled, untouched by the chaos he left behind. His gaze flicked briefly to the frost dusting my knees, then back to my face.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he said.

“And yet,” I replied, “you proposed to another woman under the same moon that bound us.”

“This again,” he muttered.

“No,” I said sharply. “This ends tonight.”

Something in my tone made him look at me properly for the first time since the festival.

My voice was steady. Too steady.

“Aurelian,” he said, lowering his voice, “don’t do something foolish.”

“Foolish?” I smiled thinly. “You took my place. My title. My child. What more is there left to lose?”

His jaw tightened. “You’re still my Luna in name.”

“Then why does the bond feel like it’s killing me?” I shot back.

He didn’t answer.

I stepped closer, close enough to feel the cold radiating from him instead of warmth. “Tell me the truth, Vaelor. When did you decide I was no longer enough?”

He hesitated.

That was all the answer I needed.

“I’m sick,” I said quietly.

His brow furrowed. “You’re always sick.”

The words were casual.

Careless.

They cut deeper than any rejection.

“I’m dying,” I corrected, watching his face closely. “And you still chose her.”

For the first time, something flickered in his eyes. Not guilt. Not regret.

Annoyance.

“Don’t dramatize,” he said. “If you were truly unwell, the healers would’ve told me.”

I laughed then—soft at first, then harder, until it shook my shoulders and blurred my vision. “They tried.”

His gaze sharpened. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying you didn’t want to hear it,” I replied. “You stopped looking at me long before my body began to fail.”

The mate bond flared suddenly—hot, violent, unbearable. I gasped, dropping to one knee as pain ripped through my chest, radiating down my spine like fire.

Vaelor swore and grabbed my arm. “Enough! Stop this—”

“Don’t touch me!” I screamed, wrenching free.

The bond screamed too, stretched to its limit, pulling at both of us like a living thing refusing to die quietly.

My wolf finally found her voice.

A broken howl tore from my throat, echoing across the grounds—raw, fractured, nothing like the proud call of a Luna.

Vaelor staggered back as if struck.

“What are you doing?” he demanded.

“Ending it,” I said through clenched teeth. “Before it finishes killing me.”

I raised my shaking hand and pressed it to the Luna mark at my throat. Silver light flickered weakly beneath my skin.

“In the presence of the moon,” I said, voice hoarse, “I renounce the bond that no longer protects me.”

The air shifted.

Vaelor’s eyes widened. “You can’t—”

“I can,” I interrupted. “You already chose.”

Pain exploded—white-hot, blinding—as the bond fought back. I screamed, collapsing fully now, claws scraping at frozen earth as my wolf writhed inside me.

Vaelor shouted something—my name, maybe—but it sounded far away.

“I release you,” I gasped. “And I release myself.”

The bond snapped.

Not cleanly.

Nothing about this was merciful.

The force of it threw me forward, my body convulsing as the last threads tore free. I felt it—felt him—ripped out of my chest like a rotting organ.

Silence followed.

Not the peaceful kind.

The dead kind.

I lay there shaking, the cold seeping into my bones, my wolf curled deep inside me—faint, but no longer screaming.

Vaelor stood frozen, his face pale.

For the first time since I had known him, he looked… unmoored.

“What have you done?” he whispered.

I dragged myself upright, every movement agony, but my voice was calm when I answered.

“What you should have done the moment you stopped loving me.”

I turned away before he could speak again.

Each step away from him felt lighter, even as my body weakened. The bond was gone. The ache remained—but it was mine now.

Behind me, the moon shone on a pack that no longer claimed me.

And for the first time, I understood something terrifying and freeing all at once.

I was no longer a Luna.

I was a wolf without a pack.

And that was far more dangerous than they realized.