The day of the ceremony arrived, bright and bustling under the protective gaze of the full moon.

My heart hammered painfully in my chest as I stood at the edge of the clearing, watching the crowd swell. Pack leaders, warriors, and elders stood in tight clusters, exchanging low murmurs. Their expressions ranged from quiet curiosity to thinly veiled suspicion. This wasn’t just a ceremony—it was a reckoning.

The scent of burning sage and pine lingered in the air, sharp and familiar. It was meant to cleanse the energy, to usher in peace. But I could feel the tension beneath the surface. An unease that curled beneath my skin.

Then I saw her.

My mother stood at the far end of the crowd, her figure frail beneath the glow of the moonlight. Her long silver hair was pulled back into a braid, and her sharp blue eyes swept over the gathering with cool detachment.

Despite the weight of time on her body, she stood tall. Composed. Unyielding.

“Are you ready?”

Damien’s voice pulled me from my thoughts. His hand found mine, his warmth steadying my trembling fingers.

I glanced at him. His dark eyes reflected the soft glow of the moon, his jaw tense beneath the weight of the moment. His black hair fell just over his brow, and when he smiled faintly, it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“I think so,” I whispered.

The pack leader stepped onto the ceremonial platform. He was tall and broad-shouldered, his cloak of deep crimson lined with fur. His gaze swept over the crowd as he raised his hands, signaling for silence.

“It is time,” he said, his voice low and commanding. “Tonight, we bear witness to the union of two souls beneath the light of the full moon.”

The crowd stilled. Breathless anticipation settled over the clearing as Damien and I stepped toward the platform. My heart beat wildly in my chest as his hand tightened around mine.

Damien’s gaze was steady as he stood beside me, his shoulders straight. “It’ll be over soon,” he murmured. “We’ve got this.”

But the tension in his eyes betrayed his calm tone.

The pack leader raised his hands toward the moon. “Aurora Hale and Damien Blackthorn, do you stand willingly before the pack to pledge your bond?”

“Yes,” Damien said without hesitation.

“Yes,” I echoed, though my throat tightened around the world.

The pack leader lowered his hands. “And if any soul here has cause to challenge this union, speak now.”

A ripple of silence stretched through the crowd. I scanned the faces—some tense, others carefully guarded. My gaze drifted toward my mother.

And then she moved.

My mother stepped forward, the crowd parting around her like water. My pulse quickened as she walked toward the platform with measured grace.

“I have a message for my daughter,” she said, her voice steady but cold.

Damien’s hand tightened around mine. I could feel the shift in the air—the sudden chill of uncertainty.

My mother climbed the steps with a quiet authority that made the pack leader hesitate. Her gaze settled on me, sharp and unyielding.

“You deserve to know the truth,” she said.

My chest tightened. “What truth?”

Her gaze shifted toward Damien. “About him.”

Damien’s brows furrowed. He opened his mouth to speak, but then his eyes widened.

Suddenly, his entire body tensed. His breath hitched, and a strange, haunted look crossed his face.

“Damien?” I whispered.

My mother took a step forward, whispered something in Damien's ear.

He stumbled backward, his hand slipping from mine. His chest heaved as his gaze darted wildly across the crowd, his pupils blown wide with terror.

“Damien!” I reached for him, but he jerked away.

“No—no—I can’t—” His voice cracked. His hands flew to his head as if trying to block out a sound only he could hear.

Then he turned toward the cliff.

My breath caught.

“No!” I screamed, but he was already moving.

He bolted toward the edge of the cliff, his breath ragged and shallow. His feet pounded against the earth as he sprinted, his dark figure illuminated beneath the silver light of the moon.

“Damien!”

I lunged after him, my feet flying beneath me. He was fast—too fast.

He reached the edge—

And jumped.

“No!”

My scream tore through the air as his body plummeted down the rocky cliffside.

Thud.

The sound hit me like a hammer to the chest. A brutal, sickening crack that made my knees give out beneath me.

A chilling silence fell over the ceremony.

Gasps and cries erupted as wolves rushed toward the edge of the cliff. My heart slammed painfully against my ribs as I stumbled forward.

Damien’s body lay twisted among the jagged rocks below. His dark hair was splayed around his head, and his limbs were bent at unnatural angles.

“Damien!”

I dropped to my knees, my breath ragged and broken.

Someone’s hand gripped my arm—my mother’s. Her face was pale, her lips parted in shock.

“Aurora,” she whispered.

“No,” I choked out. My chest tightened painfully as tears blurred my vision. “No, no, no—”

Damien’s chest wasn’t moving. His body was still. Lifeless.

I tore away from my mother’s grasp and stumbled toward the edge. My hands curled into the cold dirt as I screamed down toward him.

“Damien!”

No response.

My throat burned as sobs ripped through me. The world blurred around me—whispers, screams, the sound of wolves moving. None of it mattered.

My mother’s hand touched my shoulder. “Aurora—”

“Why?” My voice was hoarse and broken.

She shook her head, her eyes glistening with something that almost looked like regret. “I didn’t know this would happen.”

“Then why?” My voice rose in desperation. “Why was he so terrified?”

Her lips parted, but no sound came out.

The pack leader’s voice cut through the chaos. “We need to bring him up.”

Several wolves began to descend the cliffside.

I sat frozen, tears streaming down my face. My body felt hollow—like something vital had been ripped from me.

Damien’s hand had been in mine only moments ago. His breath. His warmth. His heartbeat.

And now, he is gone.

Damien was dead.

He died on the night of our mating ceremony.

He died because of something my mother said.

The pack members gathered around, their eyes wide with shock and horror as they stared at the lifeless body lying on the ceremonial stones.

Damien's mother collapsed to the ground, clutching his body, howling in anguish.

And me… I could barely breathe. My heart shattered into pieces, and my legs felt too weak to hold me up.

The man who had just promised to spend eternity with me, to mark me and make me his Luna, now lay cold and lifeless, his chest soaked in blood.

I couldn’t accept it.

At that moment, my mother stepped into the moonlight.

Her face was calm as she adjusted the loose strands of hair at her temple, her silver eyes cold and detached, as if the chaos and devastation around her had nothing to do with her.

Damien's father’s eyes burned with rage as he pointed at my mother, his chest heaving.

"What did you say to my son?!" he roared.

"Why did he kill himself the moment you spoke to him?!"

The other pack members growled, their hackles raised, fury radiating from their bodies as they shouted:

"You venomous witch! This was supposed to be the happiest night of Damien’s life — why did you ruin it?!"

"We heard the rumors — that you drove your mate to death with a single sentence — but Damien always defended you! He told us we had it wrong, that you weren’t dangerous. He trusted you!"

"And this is how you repay him?! You're a monster!"

"You deserve to rot in the dungeons for the rest of your life!"

Even as the pack’s anger grew to a boiling point, my mother’s face remained eerily calm.

"He chose to die," she said, her voice as cold as ice. "What does that have to do with me?"

Damien's mother suddenly surged forward, grabbing my mother by the collar, her tears falling freely as she screamed:

"You killed my son!"

"Give him back to me!"

"My son was good. He was strong. He never harmed anyone."

"He loved your daughter! He gave her everything!"

"He wanted to mark her, to have pups with her, to grow old together!"

"He was looking forward to the future. He was happy! So why would he kill himself?!"

"What did you say to him?! Why did you destroy him?!"

The grief in Damien's mother’s voice was unbearable.

And yet… I didn’t stop her. I simply turned to my mother, my heart breaking beneath the weight of betrayal and despair.

"Why?"

My voice trembled.

"Was it not enough that you killed my father? Why did you have to kill Damien too?!"

My father had once loved me. We had been happy—our small family was whole and safe.

But then my mother said something to him.

And the next thing I knew, he jumped off the cliffs behind the packhouse.

It was Damien who pulled me back from the edge of despair. He taught me how to feel safe again — how to love again.

I was finally about to start a new life with him, to build the future we had dreamed of.

But my mother had destroyed it all. She tore apart my happiness.

She killed Damien.

The hate that had been simmering inside me for years erupted into a burning, consuming rage.

For the first time, my mother’s mask slipped.

Her silver eyes darkened. A flicker of hesitation passed over her face.

"Even you think I’m responsible?" she whispered.

Tears burned in my eyes as I faced her.

"I just want to know," I said, my voice trembling with pain and fury. "What did you say to him?"

I remembered it clearly—the haunted look in my father’s eyes before he died. The same look that had flashed across Damien’s face before he took his own life.

Terror.

What could she have possibly said to make them both choose death over life?

The pack’s anger reached a fever pitch. The growls grew louder, and the energy crackled dangerously in the air.

"She killed her own mate—and now her daughter’s mate too!" someone shouted.

"She’s cursed!"

"She’s a murderer!"

"We won’t let her leave here alive unless she explains herself!"

My mother calmly pushed Damien’s mother away.

She straightened her dress, her expression sharpening as her gaze swept over the furious pack.

"Do you really want to know?"

The clearing fell into an unnatural silence.

Everyone’s breath hitched. Their fear was almost palpable.

Because whatever she had said… was deadly.

Anyone who heard it… died.

Curiosity warred with terror.

In the charged silence, I stepped forward.

"I want to know."

My father died because of one sentence.

My mate died because of one sentence.

I needed to know why.

Even if it killed me.

My mother’s eyes flashed with something dark and ancient. "Are you sure you won’t regret it?"

My chest ached, but I lifted my chin and forced myself to meet her gaze.

"I’m sure."

Her gaze sharpened, a cold smile curling at the corner of her mouth. Slowly, she leaned toward me, her lips brushing my ear as she whispered—