I had just folded the last shirt into my leather satchel when the chime of the doorbell sliced through the quiet of my room. I stilled at once. Night air drifted in through the open window, carrying the sharp scent of cedar smoke and frost. My heart stumbled in my chest.

Theo?

Hope flared before I could stop it. I grabbed my phone, scanning the screen for a missed call, a message, anything that hinted it was him.

There was nothing.

I released a slow breath and pushed the thought aside. Barefoot, I crossed the room, the floorboards whispering beneath me as I made my way to the door.

A large white box sat on the stone step outside—far bigger than any delivery I’d ever received. A silk ribbon, pale as moonlight and threaded with gold, was tied neatly around it. My name stretched across the lid in elegant, looping script, the kind of handwriting that felt intimate, deliberate.

No note.

No signature.

Only Arwen.

Something uneasy stirred in my blood—curiosity tangled with dread. I carried the box inside and set it on the table, fingers hesitating before loosening the ribbon. When I lifted the lid, I did so carefully, almost reverently.

My heart skipped.

The dress.

My dress.

It was exactly as I had once imagined it—years ago, when I was young enough to believe Alpha Lucien would one day claim me properly beneath the Moon. Before contracts replaced vows. Before ink replaced blood. Ivory silk gleamed softly, as though spun from moonlight itself. Lace sleeves draped delicately, intricate as ancestral runes woven by unseen hands.

My fingers shook as I traced the bodice.

There, stitched in fine golden thread, was a single name.

Arwen.

My throat closed. Tears burned behind my eyes.

Was this his way of apologizing? A wordless attempt to mend years of neglect and betrayal? Had Lucien finally decided to honor the bond he denied me—to stand with me beneath the Sacred Oak, to acknowledge me not as convenience, but as mate?

For one fragile moment, I let myself believe it.

I slipped the gown over my head, shivering as the silk settled against my skin, fitting me as if it had always known my shape. In the mirror, I barely recognized myself—pale, trembling, yet glowing with a quiet hope. My hand pressed against my chest as my wolf stirred faintly, yearning to be seen.

The door slammed open.

“What do you think you’re doing?!”

I gasped, spinning around.

Lucien filled the doorway, rage etched into every sharp line of his face. His scent flooded the room—smoke, iron, dominance—crushing and familiar. Before I could speak, he stormed toward me, a low snarl vibrating in his chest. His hand fisted in the fabric and yanked the gown from my shoulder so violently the seams screamed.

“Why is this in your hands?” he demanded harshly.

“I—I saw my name,” I stammered. “It was my design. I thought… is this finally our Binding? Before the pack?”

His laugh cut through me—short, sharp, ice-cold.

“Binding?” he scoffed. “Don’t embarrass yourself. You and I are already paired.”

“Then why this?” My voice cracked.

He held the gown away from me, disgust plain on his face.

“It’s not meant for you.”

The words landed like a death blow.

“It’s for Evelyn.”

My heart stopped.

“She deserves a ceremony. She deserves to stand as a bride beneath the Moon. She’s always dreamed of it,” he continued flatly. “And she’s ill. She doesn’t have much time.”

The room tilted. My wolf raged inside me, claws scraping against bone.

“That was my dream,” I whispered. “It always was.”

Bastian stepped in behind Lucien, his expression cruel, his wolf’s energy crackling with disdain. Evelyn followed, wrapped in blankets, her skin pale and luminous, every inch of her crafted to invite pity.

“For Moon’s sake, Arwen,” Bastian sneered. “Stop acting like the world revolves around you. You’re strong. She isn’t. Let her have this.”

Evelyn lifted her eyes to me, shimmering with unshed tears. “I only want it once,” she said softly. “To feel the Binding, even if it isn’t truly mine. I won’t take him forever. Just the ceremony. Just the dream. You can endure it. I can’t.”

“Endure what?” I asked coldly. “Lending you my husband? Handing over my future?”

None of them answered.

Their silence was confession enough.

“You disgust me,” I said quietly.

Evelyn recoiled, but I was already turning away. The gown slid from my body, pooling at my feet like shed skin. I left them standing there and returned to my room, fire blazing behind my ribs.

I ripped open drawers and chests, gathering everything—letters I once treasured, sketches of dresses I’d dreamed of wearing, photographs of Lucien holding me like I mattered. I carried it all outside to the iron barrel behind the pack house and struck a flame.

The fire leapt eagerly, devouring my past. Smoke curled upward, carrying the remains of my hope toward the Moon. My wolf writhed beneath my skin, grief and fury twisting together. I thought of broken promises, of false love, of lies dressed up as duty.

Ash swallowed the last page of my sketchbook when arms wrapped around me.

“Arwen,” Lucien murmured close to my ear. “I never intended this to hurt you so deeply. Please… forgive me. Just do this one thing for her. She’s dying. You’re stronger than this.”

I didn’t move. The fire reflected in my eyes, empty and bright.

“How about this,” he continued quietly. “Tomorrow, I’ll take you away. Just us. I’ll make it right. I swear.”

I was too exhausted to fight. “…Alright,” I whispered.

“Thank you,” he said, kissing my hair. I felt nothing.

Later, darkness lulled me into uneasy sleep.

Until his voice shattered it.

“Arwen! GET UP!”

I jolted awake to find Lucien looming over me, panic wild in his eyes. “We need you immediately. Evelyn needs blood. Yours. You’re the only match.”

My heart slammed painfully. “What?”

“She’s fading,” he snapped. “Don’t be selfish. Do something useful for once. Be her donor.”

The words struck like a physical blow.

Inside me, my wolf screamed—not in fear, but in burning, murderous rage.

“She’s slipping away. Stop thinking about yourself for once. Be useful. Give her your blood.”

The Alpha’s order crashed through my mind, heavy and unyielding, like shackles forged from iron snapping shut around my thoughts.

“No.” I snarled as I tore my arm from Alpha Lucien’s grasp, my wolf’s pulse hammering violently beneath my skin. “I refuse. I won’t give her a single drop of my blood.”

Lucien’s amber gaze deepened, the faint glow of his wolf surfacing as irritation sharpened his features. “Arwen, don’t do this again. You know she’s suffering from blood-sickness. The healers are powerless without you. Your blood matches hers.”

“That doesn’t make it my responsibility,” I shot back, bracing my stance like I was facing down an enemy Alpha instead of my own family. “I’m not the only one in this pack who bleeds. I’m not the only one who’s ever been in pain.”

Bastian stepped closer, his dominance crashing into me like an oppressive force I hadn’t invited. “Why are you always like this?” he snapped. “She’s dying, Arwen!”

“She’s not dying,” I hissed, my wolf raking claws against my chest, demanding to be unleashed. “She’s been pretending her whole life. Ever since we were pups, she’s acted weak just to avoid responsibility. And you all still treat her like she’s some sacred gift from the Moon.”

Silas cut in, his voice cold and slicing. “That’s enough. You’re making a spectacle of yourself.”

Before I could react—before I could gather what little strength I had left—the three of them moved at once. Hands seized my arms. Their combined dominance crushed my wolf down, smothering her fury. I fought, baring my teeth, nails scraping skin, but weeks of manipulation, starvation, and untreated injuries had left me depleted. They dragged me away like a criminal, shoved me into the back of a steel-lined car, deaf to my growls and blind to the rage roaring inside me.

They took me straight to the pack infirmary.

Within an hour, I was restrained like a rogue. Silver restraints cut into my wrists as the antiseptic stench of the room drowned out every trace of wilderness inside me. My protests fell on deaf ears. The healers worked without pause, siphoning vial after vial, bag after bag, draining me dry. I watched my life bleed away to sustain a lie, while nurses exchanged uneasy glances at the excessive amount my own family demanded.

The edges of the world blurred. Darkness crept in. Then everything disappeared.

When consciousness returned, I felt empty—hollowed out. My wolf lay curled deep within me, weak and snarling softly, betrayed and starving. Ice seemed to run through my veins. My vision cleared just enough to reveal the last person I wanted to see.

Evelyn.

She sat delicately on the edge of my bed, frail as something ready to break, a tray balanced across her knees. “You’re awake,” she murmured gently, sweetness coating every word. “I brought you something to eat.”

For a fleeting second, my heart betrayed me. I wanted to believe she cared. That maybe—just maybe—she wanted me to recover.

Then memory struck, sharp and merciless.

I knocked the tray aside. Porcelain shattered against the floor, the sound echoing through the room.

The door flew open.

Alpha Lucien. Bastian. Silas.

Their scents poured in like smoke and ash, thick and suffocating.

“What is wrong with you?” Bastian roared. “She brought you food!”

“You’re impossible,” Lucien snarled. “She’s trying to mend things, and this is how you respond?”

“They forced me!” My voice fractured as fury tore its way out. “All of you did! You strapped me down like I was a traitor to this pack!”

“Arwen…” Evelyn whispered, her tone soft, syrupy, dangerous. “Please don’t act this way. I’m your sister. I only wanted to fix what’s broken between us.”

She leaned closer, her lips brushing my ear, her breath warm against my skin.

“Don’t you understand now?” she murmured. “They don’t want you anymore. So be good.”

My body went rigid, rage sparking like lightning beneath my skin.

Lucien’s stare burned into me. “Apologize. Now.”

“I didn’t do anything wrong,” I spat, though exhaustion made my voice shake.

“Arwen,” Silas warned, Alpha authority laced thickly into his tone.

I swallowed every scream, every howl scraping my throat raw. “Fine,” I breathed. “I’m sorry.”

Not because I meant it. Not because I submitted.

But because I was too tired to fight three Alphas and a serpent all at once.

They seemed pleased, nodding like I’d finally learned my place. I turned my face away, shut my eyes, pretending to sleep while they gathered around Evelyn, comforting her, soothing her false tears. I stayed still until their scents faded and the room fell silent again.

That night, my phone vibrated.

Theo Ravenscar: Tomorrow’s the day. Are you still in?

My breathing steadied. My fingers shook before typing back.

Me: Yes.

Morning arrived heavy with dread. My body ached from blood loss, but the deeper pain sat in my chest. I wanted to stay hidden, to disappear into the infirmary’s shadows—but Alpha Lucien had already decided for me.

“We need this,” he’d said flatly, command woven into his words. “You owe Evelyn. You owe us. Stop acting childish. You promised a date. You will go.”

So I did.

Not because I wanted him. Not because hope still lived inside me. But because refusal meant more restraints, more guilt, more voices crushing me until even my wolf went silent.

I wore the same dress from our first night—the night I still believed in fate, in mates, in forever. When his touch had felt like a promise instead of a chain. When I thought I had been chosen.

He said we’d meet at the restaurant. Just us. A fresh start.

I arrived early. I sat alone. Water was poured. Time crawled. Minutes bled into hours. My phone stayed quiet. My heart felt numb.

Until it buzzed.

Evelyn: Oops. Looks like they can’t make it, sister. They’re busy with me. Enjoy dinner. Alone.

A photo followed. All of them smiling. Whole. Happy.

Once, that would have broken me.

But my wolf was waking now.

I stood, spine straight, dignity intact. I asked for the manager and left behind a small bundle wrapped in old parchment—copies of the false marriage certificate, the medical report of the pup I lost, and the ring he’d given me five years ago.

“If they come looking,” I said quietly, “tell them Arwen no longer belongs to them.”

The bell chimed as I stepped outside.

Theo Ravenscar waited at the curb, calm and unyielding, his hand extended. “Ready?”

“More than I’ve ever been,” I replied, my wolf lifting her head at last.

We drove as city lights disappeared behind us. At the airport, I removed my SIM card—years of chains reduced to plastic—and tossed it away without looking back.

As I boarded the plane beside Theo, peace settled over me like the hush before a storm.

Tomorrow, they would search. Tomorrow, they would call.

But the Moon had heard me.

And I vowed they would never find me again.