When I woke up, I saw around me was white — the ceiling, the glow-light, the sheets.

Even the dull ache in my chest was white, hollow and lifeless.

I blinked, my eyes swollen, my throat burned as if something corrosive had torn through it. My head throbbed, pulsing in time with my heartbeat.

“You’re awake,” a gentle voice said.

I turned my head toward the figure in white, the healer. His eyes were gentle, but his face lined with fatigue.

“You suffered a severe reaction to something in the air,” he said, skimming his crystal slate. “Jasmine pollen, I believe. You’re fortunate someone found you in time.”

I didn’t feel fortunate. I felt hollow.

“How do you feel?” he asked gently.

“Like I’m still dying.” I croaked.

He nodded. “You’ve endured severe trauma, but there’s more to tell.”

My brow furrowed. “More?”

He looked at me for a long moment, unsure where to start.

“You’re three weeks moon-blessed, Luna Ashencrest.”

The chamber shook.

Three weeks moon-blessed?

My mouth opened, but nothing came out.

How was it possible?

The memory slammed into me.

That night. The stench of moonwine on his breath. How he staggered into my chamber, slurring Nyxara’s name. How he pinned me beneath him, too intoxicated to see who I was. I screamed, begged, tried to push him off.

He, however, insisted ….

“I won’t keep it,” I said firmly.

The words were soft—but edged like a blade.

The healer hesitated. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

His eyes softened in pity. “You’re still healing from the jasmine reaction. You’ll need a few more days—no more than three—then we can proceed.”

I nodded.

I had made up my mind. Theros was an evil. I would not bring another pup into his cruelty.

“How is Althea?” I asked, clearing my throat.

He paused, uncertainty in his eyes. That brief pause nearly stopped my heart.

“Didn’t the Alpha tell you?” he asked, brow furrowed.

My blood chilled.

I forced myself upright, ignoring the ache pounding in my head.

“Tell me what?”

He drifted his gaze away, searching for words, but none coming out.

"She's ... suffered from a brain hemorrhage, caused by oxygen loss."

I gasped.

“Last night, we attempted the moon-surgery—but we required parental consent.”

His voice faltered.

“We couldn’t contact you. And your mate …” his voice faltered.

He forced the words out.

“He said he didn’t care if the whelp lived or died, she’d been nothing but a nuisance to the pack since the day she was born.”

The air refused to reach my lungs. The chamber constricted, crushing in on me. His voice drifted on, distant and distorted.

“I’m sorry … your pup didn’t survive.”

A sharp ringing filled my head.

Althea. My fragile, innocent little pup.

I lunged from the bed, grabbing his robes.

“Where is she? Where is my pup?”

My scream tore the chamber apart.

“Nyxara came at dawn,” he said quickly. “She claimed the body.”

I heard nothing after that.

The tears streamed down my face as I screamed inches from his face.

"Where is she!"

He tried to calm me. “Please, Luna Ashencrest, Lucielle, Nyxara, came earlier this morning. She … she took the body.”

I didn't hear his words after that.

I stormed out of the healer den like a beast with blood in my eyes.

The gate of the Ashencrest den stood open, as if they were welcoming the devil back into its den.

I tore through the front doors, my throat shredded from screaming, my chest collapsing with every breath.

She was laying on the Alpha’s throne couch like a Luna. Legs crossed. Moonwine swirling in her glass. A cruel smile playing on her mouth.

“Where is my Althea!” I screamed.

Nyxara didn’t flinch. She pressed her thumb against a glowing crystal.

The crystal mirror lit up. And a scene appeared.

Althea—tiny and frail—struggled for breath. Her lips were blue, her chest heaving as if each breath might be her last.

The pack healers swarmed her, trying to save and pull her back.

Until … they stopped.

The life-rune above her dimmed—then went dark.

I screamed, covered my mouth and crumpled to the ground.

“You monster,” I sobbed. “You heartless monster…”

Nyxara only smirked and turned the sound higher.

On the crystal screen, I watched as she dragged Althea’s lifeless body across the stone floor, tossed her into a reinforced iron cremation bin and burned her without a pack rite.

“This is your pup’s last moment under the moon,” she said with a mocking smile. “Touching, isn’t it?”

My heart shattered into pieces as I watched the monstrous on the crystal screen. I had only guilt, how badly I had failed my daughter.

“How could you … how could you burn her without asking me?” I sobbed.

“Oh, does it tear your heart apart?” Nyxara mocked with a laugh. “Does it make you want to howl and strike me?”

She leaned closer, eyes gleaming. “Then wait until you hear what happened when the healer called last night.”

I narrowed my eyes, dread pooling in my gut—I already knew she was about to twist the knife.

“What did you do?” I asked hoarsely.

Like a lunatic, she snickered in satisfaction. "I was the one picked the call when the healer called. I am moon-blessed with Theros' pup, Lucielle, you don't think I would let your pup alive, do you?"

"You ended Althea's live — over nothing? How could you?" I roared, fury pouring out of me.

She only shrugged. “I can do anything to get rid of the unimportant thing.” I surged to my feet, ready to tear into her, when she calmly raised a small glass jar from behind her back. "It's her ashes. “If you want what remains of your brat … hit your head on the floor ten times.”

I stared at her, willing it to be a lie. But the madness in her eyes told me it wasn’t.

I fell to my knees.

“One … two … three.” She counted with a chuckle like a lunatic.

The fourth time, blood was slipping down my forehead. My sight was blurring and my hearing was buzzing.

"Seven, eight."

I was staggering, almost fainting.

"Ten!" She applauded and smiled in mockery.

“What a pathetic mother,” she murmured, moving closer with the jar clenched in her grip.

I reached out, hands trembling, heart racing. But then, she let it slip.

The jar smashed against the floor and Althea’s ashes scattered like dust beneath our feet.

I froze in place.

My gaze dropped to the ground where my pup’s ashes had spilled like dust.

Fragments of the broken jar glittered under the moonlit chandelier, tangled with what was left of her.

My pup, my Althea had left again—this time beyond the moon’s mercy.

“Oops,” Nyxara sniggered, applauding like it was entertainment.

“Well, the remains of that little bastard are worthless now. Just like the one who birthed her.”

Whatever restraint I had left broke.

I leapt at her. “You filthy bitch!”

My palm slammed into her face, jerking her head sideways, her glass crashing and shattering at our feet.

She screamed.

I grabbed a fistful of her hair and yanked her to the ground.

She clawed at me while I held her down, my claws digging deep into her head.

My sight was red — ashes, blood, pain. “You sick, evil beast!”

“GET HER OFF ME!” Nyxara screeched.

Theros’s guards burst into the chamber and wrenched me off her.

I kicked and struggled, strands of her hair still caught in my claws.

She crawled behind the couch, wailing and shaking, as though she hadn’t just crushed the last remnants of my world.

Theros arrived seconds later, eyes wide with panic as he pulled Nyxara close.

“Nyxara? Tell me—what happened?!”

She hid her face in his chest, crying.

“She’s insane!” She whimpered. “She attacked me, Theros—she threatened she'd kill me!"

“She’s lying!” I shouted. “Please—just listen to me—just once—”

I tried to speak, but the moment I opened my mouth—

He slammed his hand into my left cheek, sending me stumbling back in shock.

Then once more, more and more, until I stopped counting and tasting blood all over my mouth.

My ears screamed. My face burned. My knees weakened as his slaps kept coming, drowning the world in the roar of my heartbeat.

Tears slipped down my face as I stared at the Alpha I once loved — the one who used to press kisses to my hands and vow in front of the pack to protect me for life.

“You never learn,” he said flatly, “I’ll stop paying for your bastard’s healing den since you refuse to obey.”

“You don’t have to.” I murmured, blood on my lips. “You don't have to, anymore.”

His expression darkened as he snarled, “And how do you plan to pay for it? By spreading your legs through every pack?”

“She’s gone, Theros,” I said, the words ripping through me. “Althea is gone.”

He froze. Just for a heartbeat—he faltered.

Nyxara pulled back from his chest and gasped, her voice dripping with false shock.

“That’s a lie—she’s lying!” Nyxara gasped. “I—I went to see Althea this morning! That’s why she attacked me—she warned me to stay away from her pup!”

“You’re lying! You never went near the healing den—” I tried to say, but Theros cut me off.

“You’re cruel to the core.” He growled, his eyes blazing.

“Her ashes are on the floor!” I cried, gesturing to the broken fragments by the couch. “That’s our pup — your pup!”

Nyxara lifted her hand, revealing a small, pitiful burn on her wrist. “She burned me,” she said softly, “She even burned parchment and called them Althea’s ashes.”

“You lying bitch…”

Too late. Theros’s rage flared once more, his aura crushing the chamber.

"Omega!" He ordered coldly. “Clean it and cast it out. I won’t have filth lingering in my den.”

My world was falling apart.

“No—no! Please!” I howled, fighting the pack guards. “Don’t touch her! That’s my pup—my Althea!”

I thrashed wildly. “Please, don’t sweep her away. Please!”

I tore free for a heartbeat and crawled toward the ashes, my claws stretching out. But Theros seized my hair and dragged me back, hauling me toward the hearth.

“You truly never learn, do you?” he said coldly.

“Theros, no—please!”

He seized my wrist and slammed my hand onto the burning hearthstone.

The scream that tore from my throat no longer sounded. I thrashed and kicked, but he forced me down, flesh sizzling as the pain shot like lightning through my spine.

I collapsed onto the floor, gasping, my body trembling uncontrollably.

But the moment I saw the maids sweeping up my daughter’s ashes, I ignored the pain and lunged toward them.

“Stop it!” I screamed, grasping at the broom with shaking hands.

“Hold her down—she’s completely lost her mind!” Nyxara snapped.

The guards seized me as I thrashed and sobbed in their grip, while the maids swept up Althea’s ashes and dumped them into the waste bin.

“No!” I cried, my heart breaking.

“I was going to spare you,” Theros said coldly, “But since you insist on this farce, I’ll teach you a lesson.”

I wasn’t looking at him. I lay crumpled on the floor, clutching my burned hand, staring into nothing.

“Hit her,” Theros commanded.

Suddenly, the healer’s warning echoed in my mind.

“I’m carrying a pup!” I screamed. “I’m carrying your pup, Theros. Please, don’t…”

His eyes fixed on me for a moment.

Then he laughed.

“I never marked you.” He snarled. “So it's impossible for you carrying another pup. And if it isn't?"

His lips curled. “Then another bastard pup — and I’ll end it myself.”

“No—please … please, not again.”

He moved too fast to stop.

His foot slammed into my belly. A howl tore from my throat, loud enough to shake the den walls. Another hit landed, then another, as I curled into myself on the floor. Blood filled my mouth. Something deep inside me break.

“Stop, please. STOP!” I begged.

“You think I’m a fool?” he roared. “You think I’d ever keep another mongrel pup?”

Another blow slammed into me.

“Theros .…” I whimpered.

Blood spread beneath me, soaking my clothes, trailing down my legs, staining the den floor.

He loomed over me, his chest rising and falling like a beast fresh from the hunt.

I looked at him in blurry. The Alpha who had once been my sanctuary now looked like a demon born of hell.

You killed her.

And now … you had destroyed the only part of me that remained.

The pain surged. The world spun away.

And then…

Darkness.

When I stirred beneath the dim light of a healer’s den, I couldn’t tell if I had survived.

I felt numb and yet I felt pain all the same.

It coursed through my veins, my abdomen pulsing as though something meant to be part of me had been torn out.

My head throbbed beneath the tight pull of freshly bound wraps and my hand ... oh Moon Goddess, my hand still felt like it was on hearthstone, burning.

I shifted my head, squinting against the harsh white glow filling the healer's den.

The sharp smell of sterilized herbs greeted me, the rhythmic hum of runes nearby echoed softly and grief settled deep in my marrow long before a single word was spoken.

The healer was already standing near the rune-etched window, with a rune-tabled in his hand.

His face was stern, unreadable, until his gaze fell on me. And in that moment, I saw pity.

"Luna Ashencrest, my deep condolence ...."

He didn't need more words to have me understand.

I did understand. The pup was gone.

I didn’t cry, didn’t seek details, or didn’t even flinch.

“Can I leave the healer den?” I asked, my voice rough and hoarse.

He blinked, startled. “You … just endured a second trauma. Your body needs time to mend. The burns on your hand still—”

“I … I just want to leave.”

He hesitated, glancing down at the rune-tablet in his hands, then gave a curt nod in the end.

The moment I stepped out of the healer’s den, I was limping slightly, every step sending sparks of fire through my ribs and legs.

Still, I moved forward. I called for a mooncharriot, giving the coordinate I had saved on my crystal communicator.

The Pack Registry Hall — a kind of place where the living came in with betrayal and heartache and came out with freedom or at least a settlement of blood and honor — was noiseless.

I had no wish for moon-credit, no wish for just wiping out my identity, I had wish for cutting off ties with Theros and his pack and began a new life, a new form of me.

“I file for a bond severance,” I said to the scribe behind the stone desk. “Now.”

The scribe studied me with faint curiosity, as if I were just another she-wolf of the pack seeking freedom.

He asked for my name and my mate’s. I gave them without hesitation.

He tapped at his rune-tablet for a moment, then furrowed his brows.

“Luna Lucielle Ashencrest…” he said slowly. “According to the Moon Registry record … your bond to Alpha Theros Ashencrest was severed two cycles ago.”

My heart stopped.

“Did I hear it wrong?”

“No, you didn’t.” He explained gently. “Alpha Theros is currently bonded to Nyxara Grimvale.”

He turned the rune-tablet screen toward me.

The crystal bond scroll faced me. There was my mark, my full name and the details of my mate.

And the date? Two cycles ago.

It was around the time he had tricked me into marking those parchments he claimed were for a shared pack treasury. I had believed in him. I was still his mate. We were still … something.

He had betrayed me, deceived me, kept me caged under his control as though I were a prisoner unaware of my own freedom.

He had claimed Nyxara as his mate. And I … I had been nothing but a ghost of myself in my own life.

My breath caught, raw and ragged.

I rose to my feet, but the floor of the Pack Registry Hall seemed to sway beneath me. My legs wavered and the scribe moved to help me, but I waved him off.

“Thank you.” I whispered. “I have … I have to go.”

As I stepped out, a sense of relief washed over me—I was finally free of him, even if the path here had been poisoned with his deceit.

***

The sun was sinking when I walked out of the moon charriot, my mind blank, my body protesting, my soul clinging to the last thread of life.

The Ashencrest den was noiseless the moment I took a step in — but not for long.

I stepped into the front door, holding the bond severance parchments in my hand, still warm from the rune-press. I made no effort to conceal it. I wanted him to see that I had unraveled his lies.

Theros was relaxing in the firelit chamber, swirling the moon-wine in his glass.

He raised his gaze.

“Where have you been?” he asked indifferently.

“I know everything,” I said, lifting the scroll. “You severed our bond two cycles ago. You lied. You kept me trapped in a moonlit binding no longer existed.”

His expression hardened in an instant.

“So you finally found the nerve to go to the Pack Registry Hall,” he said coldly. “That’s what today was about?"

"Don't twist the blame!" I snarled.

“You think you can break free of me with that scroll?” He rose to his feet. “That’s why you went there? You truly believe you’re free?”

I held his gaze. “Why won’t you just let me go? I have the bond severance scroll. I'm free to go anywhere.”

His voice was calm, too calm.

“You’re not going anywhere,” he said. “Not until I decide you are. If you try, your exit will be in a coffin.”

He turned, grabbed a garment from the hearth couch—a black velvet moon-gown—and threw it at me.

“Dress yourself.” He ordered. “We’re attending the Consortium Gala tonight. And bring your bastard pup. Appearances must be maintained.”

I stared at him, my expression cold and unyielding.

“Althea isn’t required to attend,” I said flatly, “She’s not yours. You made that very clear.”

He stared at me, shock flickering across his face. I didn’t wait for a response—I turned and walked away.

Inside my chamber, I shut the door and pulled out my crystal communicator. My hand still shook with pain, but my voice did not.

The line chimed once before someone answered.

“It’s me,” I said softly.

“Have you reconsidered?”

I met my own gaze in the mirror—hollow, barely alive. I was nothing more than the ghost of the she-wolf I used to be.

“Yes, Grandpa. Begin the preparations.”

“When?”

“Tomorrow,” I answered. “That’s when I vanish. I’ve endured enough.”