I ran through the toxic haze. My lungs were on fire. I didn't care. Six hours ago, my mate's voice had cut through our matebond: "Clara—rogues everywhere, come save me!" So I came. Briars tore my skin. Poison seeped into the cuts. I felt each one—and kept running. My legs stopped feeling like mine somewhere back there. I didn't care about that either. "Luna—" My subordinate's voice cracked through the link. "Get out of there! He was never there." "He's with Tessa. Watching her try on your wedding dress." The words stopped me cold. The ground didn't move with me. Neither did the haze. Just me. Frozen. "CLARA—RUN!" My wolf's scream ripped through my chest. I turned. Too late. Emerald eyes ignited in the gloom. A blur of fur and fangs erupted from the dark. I threw my arm up— Teeth sank into my throat! ... The night stretched into a mindless eternity. Everything dissolved into a blur of blood, rain, and bone-chilling screams. By the time the first cold rays of dawn hit my face, I was a broken, blood-stained mess. But I was alive. And the Clara who loved Xavier was dead. Bzzz. My phone vibrated. A text from Thomas, my most loyal sentinel. "Luna, I'm sorry. Alpha Xavier has been in contact with her the entire time. Last night, he rented out the Peak Penthouse. He's throwing her a welcome-back gala." Then came the video. In the clip, Xavier stood before a grand, gilded mirror. He was adjusting a delicate white veil over a woman's soft brown curls. He was smiling—that same tender, breathless smile he used to give me before we mated. I checked the timestamp. 9:47 PM. While the rogues were tearing the meat from my bones, he was playing dress-up with his ex. My thumb hovered over the screen, a bead of blood from my mangled hand dripping onto the image, staining Tessa's perfect, radiant smile. It also shattered the lie I'd spent months forcing myself to believe. Six months ago, Xavier had knelt by my dying father's bedside. He'd sworn on his wolf's life that he would never see her again. Ended up...a Lie. Every word out of his mouth had been a calculated lie. I dialed his number. It rang for a long, agonizing minute before he finally picked up. "Clara?" His voice was deep, smooth. In the background, I could hear it—the faint, elegant swell of a violin. "Where are you?" I asked, my voice a hollow shell. "I told you," He sighed, that patronizing tone creeping in. "Rogues blocked the pass. I'm at the border cabin." "Are you hurt?" "No. Just a weak signal." He paused, his voice dropping into a low, practiced hum of concern. "Why are you still awake? Are you scared of the storm?" "Come on, Clara. Don't be so dramatic. You're stronger than that." Stronger? I looked down at my leg. The wound still burned. Blood and mud caked the the empty place where the flesh had been. "Does the cabin have a live orchestra, Xavier?" I whispered. The line went dead silent. "The cabin owner has an old record player," He chuckled, mocking. "Are you really calling to micromanage me, Clara? I've had a long day and I'm not doing this with you." The classic move. Make me out to be the crazy one. The paranoid mate. Anything to escape accountability. "I'm not fighting, Xavier." "Then be a good girl and go to sleep," he said, his voice softening again, though the edge remained. "I'll bring you those lemon scones from Magnolia's tomorrow. Your favorite." Magnolia's lemon scones. They were Tessa's absolute favorite. I was highly allergic to them. He hadn't just forgotten—he had never cared enough to remember. "Okay," I said. It wasn't compromise. It was giving up. "Love you. Sleep tight." The line went dead. I stared at the black screen until a notification popped up. It was a new post from Tessa's private account. A close-up of Xavier's hand—unmistakable with his heavy, obsidian Alpha ring—tracing the curve of her collarbone. Her caption: He promised that no matter who he married, I would always be his first priority.
I dragged myself into the Peak Penthouse. My jacket was soaked through, sticking to my skin like ice, and my muddy boots squeaked with every step. The security guard stopped me twice, but when I showed him my wedding photo with Xavier, he let me through with a look of pity. I headed for the VIP elevators. Before I could arrive, the doors slid open. Xavier stood inside. Italian suit. Top buttons undone—that effortless, rugged thing he did. Tessa was draped against his chest. White silk dress. Delicate curls. A veil falling from her hair. That was my wedding dress. "Xavier, my feet hurt," she whimpered, pouting. Without hesitation, my proud Alpha husband knelt on the cold elevator floor, gently lifting her ankle. "I told you not to wear those heels, princess." "But they're pretty!" She giggled, running her fingers through his hair. "You used to love watching me dance in them." "That was before," he murmured, his voice dripping with affection. "Now, if you hurt yourself, I'll have to lock you in my room." Then Xavier carried her heels in one hand, his other arm securely wrapped around her waist. I stood behind a massive concrete pillar, watching them. A sudden wave of nausea hit me, so violent I had to press my hand against the cold stone to keep from collapsing. Then my eyes met Tessa's. Her gaze swept over my wild hair, my muddy face, and the dried blood crusting on my leg. A tiny, cruel smirk played on her lips. "Xavier," she said, her voice echoing in the quiet garage. "Look at that poor girl over there. She looks like a filthy stray." Xavier didn't even turn his head. He didn't waste a single glance on the woman who had almost died in a rogue-infested forest for him. "Don't look at that trash, Tessa," he said, pulling her closer to his side. "You'll ruin your eyes." Trash... I laughed bitterly—silently. That was it. That was what I'd nearly died for. I watched they walked toward the revolving glass doors. Tessa paused, "Xavier, wasn't yesterday your Mate Anniversary? If you spent the whole night with me, won't Clara be mad?" Xavier's footsteps halted. "Why are you even bringing her up?" His voice dripping with irritation. "I just don't want her to be jealous. She always keeps such a tight leash on you." "She's just bored," Xavier sneered. "Aside from hovering over me, what else does she even do?" He tossed Tessa's heels to a valet and yanked off his tie to wipe his hands— the same silk tie I'd hand-picked and given him just yesterday morning. "And yet, you still chose her to be your mate." Tessa pouted, her voice trailing into a whine. "I only mated her cause she was easy. No drama. The pack wanted a trophy Luna, so I gave 'em one." With that, he tossed the silk tie into a trash can. He had promised to wear it close to his heart. Now, it was buried under garbage. "Tessa, remember this," he said, pulling her close. "A mate bond is just about politics and pack duty." "She is fit to be the Luna. But you are the only one I want to protect." Tessa beamed, leaning up to kiss his cheek. Then Xavier pulled her flush against him and kissed her back hard. A dull ache flared in my chest—a pain so familiar it had practically lived there for months. Xavier had always told me it was just the bond echoing his injuries from the training grounds. I bought it all. I was so naive. I thought I was just feeling his physical pain, the way mates do. I'd forgotten that betrayal burns just as hot. Then I felt it—a different kind of ache. Lower. Deeper. My pup...was crying. Hurting. My palm pressed flat against my stomach. Right there, a tiny, fragile heartbeat was fighting to survive. A two-month-old pup. I had planned to tell him during our anniversary dinner last night. But then he told me he was trapped by rogues in the Forbidden Forest of Death. I had driven three hours through a deadly storm, braving the rogue wolf scent, crawling through the mud to save him. I thought he was dying. Instead, he was making out with another woman. Their tangled figures blurred before my eyes, and then, I saw a flash of blue fire. Coming from Tessa's neck. When my gaze caught The Lunar Tear, my breath stopped. Xavier had bought it at an auction three months ago, proudly telling the media it was a gift for his "beloved mate." So I waited, day after day, expecting him to give it to me on our anniversary. Now, that very sapphire was glittering around Tessa's neck. It felt like a physical slap to the face.
The cramping in my abdomen grew sharper, an agonizing tearing sensation that made me gasp. I dragged myself to a bus stop, clutching my stomach as I slid onto the metal bench. A black SUV rolled out of the underground garage, stopping at the red light right in front of me. Xavier was behind the wheel. Then my phone rang. His name flashed on the screen. His voice echoed through his car's speakers, drifting out of his half-open window. "Hey, babe. The roads finally cleared, so I'm heading home now." His voice was incredibly warm, dripping with that fake, loving concern. "I got those lemon scones from Magnolia's for you. They're still warm." Through his window, I watched him reach over to brush a strand of hair from Tessa's face. Tessa giggled, biting into a scone he was holding out to her. "Is it good?" he whispered to her, his lips moving silently. "Xavier," I gripped my phone, whispering. "What's wrong? Your voice sounds weak. Did you catch a cold?" "If I told you I was standing outside the Peak Penthouse right now..." I stared at his car. "Would you step out and look at me?" A beat of slience. Then, he let out a dry, forced chuckle. "Clara, stop playing games." "I went to the Forbidden Forest of Death to save you last night." I said. His laugh vanished. It was replaced by a cold, harsh growl. "Clara, are you insane? I told you I was safe. Why do you always have to create drama?" "Do you have any idea how much trouble you almost cost me? You really want the pack elders asking questions about why you were out there alone?" So that was all he cared about. Not me bleeding in the woods. Not me almost dying. Just what the elders would say. There was nothing left to say. I wanted to hang up— Then the pain hit. A full-body seizure of it, white-hot and blinding. "Xavier, my stomach hurts," I whimpered, curling in on myself as a warm wetness soaked through my pants. "Then take some medicine. I'm an Alpha, Clara, not a healer." his voice was cold. Too cold. At the same time, in the passenger seat, Tessa suddenly gasped, clutching her stomach with a dramatic groan. Xavier's face went completely pale. "Tessa? What's wrong? Is your stomach flaring up again?" He didn't even bother to cover the phone. The raw, desperate panic in his voice sliced right through me. "Xavier... it hurts so bad," Tessa whimpered. "Don't worry, I'm taking you to the pack hospital right now." The SUV roared to life, surging forward. The tires kicked up a wave of muddy, freezing street water, drenching me from head to toe. The call went dead. I slid off the bench onto the wet pavement, my vision blurring into a dark, bloody red. Someone was screaming in the distance, calling for an ambulance, but my mind was already slipping away. When I finally opened my eyes, the harsh smell of bleach filled my nose. A nurse was changing my IV drip, her eyes filled with pity. "I'm so sorry, Clara. We couldn't save your pup." "You arrived too late. The hypothermia and the sheer physical trauma... it was too much." I stared at the white ceiling. So that was it. I waited for the tears. For the anger. For anything. Nothing came. I just felt completely hollow. The nurse sighed softly and slipped out of the room. I picked up my phone. The screen lit up with messages from Xavier. "Something came up at the pack house. I won't be home tonight." "I left the scones in the kitchen. Make sure you eat them." "Clara, stop giving me the silent treatment. You were the one acting crazy last night." He was still playing his usual game, expecting me to crawl back the moment he threw me a bone. I didn't reply. Instead, I opened a hidden folder on my phone. Inside was all the evidence my private investigator had gathered six months ago. The lease for Tessa's luxury apartment, the bank transfers, the hotel bookings. I used to think I would use this to scream at him, to demand answers. Now, I just felt disgusted. I called my family's lawyer. "Mr. Vance, prepare the divorce papers." "Luna Clara? Are you sure? What about the asset division?" "I only want what belongs to my family. But every single cent he spent on Tessa? I want it clawed back." After hanging up, I dialed Xavier's number. He answered almost instantly. In the background, I could hear the steady beep of hospital monitors. "Clara? Done throwing your tantrum?" His tone was insufferably arrogant. "I knew you'd call." I looked out the window, my mind clearer than it had been in years. "Xavier, let's get a divorce."
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