I was the only she-wolf in the pack with two mates—a pair of twin Alphas, Caleb and Cillian. They adored me, loved me, and would shift into wolf form just to carry me on their backs. Until a healer named Elowen arrived at the pack, with a pup in tow. My mates started coming home smelling like her. After one fight, Caleb severed our mate bond without a second thought and walked away. Cillian held me close, swearing he'd never leave—even as Elowen's scent clung heavier and heavier to his skin. I didn't dare confront him. Not until I saw Cillian step out of Elowen's cottage with claw marks of pleasure raked across his back. My soul ripped in two. I turned and ran, straight to my Alpha father's house. "Father, the marriage alliance with the vampires—let me be the one to go." … "Lyra, have you lost your mind?!" My father—Gideon, Alpha of our pack—shot to his feet so fast his chair scraped against the floor. His amber eyes burned faintly red with shock. The wolf was close to the surface. "They're vampires!" His voice rang off the study walls. "Wolves and vampires have been at each other's throats for a thousand years! Nobody knows what the hell will go wrong with this first-ever alliance marriage!" I stood before him, fists clenched in the fabric of my skirt, fighting to look composed. But I knew the two faded marks on my neck gave me away. They were the scars left behind when a mate bond breaks—like two dead brands, reminding me of what I'd once had and what I'd lost. "Father, I've made up my mind." My voice came out steadier than I expected. Gideon drew a deep breath. The wolf receded from his eyes. He crossed to me and placed both hands on my shoulders. Alpha hands—warm, strong, full of the instinct to protect. "What did they do this time?" His tone went cold in an instant. "Was it Caleb or Cillian? I'll go settle the score right now—" "Don't!" The word tore out of me almost as a shout. "Father, please don't!" I grabbed his arm in a panic. Last time—when Caleb severed our bond and left me for that newcomer Elowen—I'd gone to my father in tears. He'd been furious, nearly drove Elowen out of the pack altogether. It only made everything worse. The look in Caleb's eyes shifted from tenderness to disgust. "Lyra, do you have any idea what you're doing? Elowen hasn't done a single thing wrong. She's just a mother who fled here with her pup, and you want to throw her out?" "Take away your father's protection," he said with a cold smirk, "and what do you even have left? A she-wolf who can't even take care of herself—what makes you think you deserve to be this pack's future Luna?" Those words hit like silver bullets through my heart. And worse still, Cillian had grown distant. He no longer brought me blueberry muffins every morning, no longer ran beside me through the forest on full-moon nights, no longer whispered sweet things in my ear. "Lyra." My father's voice pulled me back. "You're my only daughter. I can't bear the thought of sending you so far away—to those cold-blooded vampires." He paused, his amber eyes heavy with heartache. "But I can't just stand by and watch you suffer, either. The alliance roster is due in three days. Give yourself three more days to think it over. Will you do that?" I nodded, though I already knew I wouldn't change my mind. I stepped out of the study into a hallway lined with torches that cast dancing shadows on the stone walls. Our pack lived in an old manor—once a nobleman's castle, long since claimed by wolves. Soaring vaulted ceilings, Gothic windows—every inch of it steeped in age. I walked slowly, because my soul was still writhing inside those two severed marks. A mate bond was the most sacred connection between wolves. When two wolves recognized each other as fated mates, they marked each other's necks. The mark gave off a unique pheromone that told the world: *this one is taken.* But when a bond is broken deliberately—the pain is like someone carving into your soul with a silver blade, cut by agonizing cut. I reached the front courtyard. A night breeze carried the chill of late autumn. Oak leaves crunched beneath my feet. And then I saw him. Cillian. He stood at the bottom of the courtyard steps, moonlight silvering his brown hair into a pale halo. He wore a dark gray sweater, hands shoved in his pockets, as if waiting for someone. My heart hammered all over again. Even though he'd severed our bond just last night. But here he was. Maybe he regretted it. Maybe he'd come back for me—after all, he had loved me so fiercely once. Hope swelled in my chest. Wretched, burning hope. Even after he'd hurt me. Even after he'd abandoned me. I would have forgiven him in a heartbeat, if only he'd come back. That was the curse of the mate bond—even shattered, the love stayed carved into your soul. I took a step toward him. Then I heard a child's laughter. A little boy darted out from a side door—five or six years old, at most. He giggled as he ran straight for Cillian and threw himself at him. "Cillian! Cillian! Mommy said you promised to take me to see the fireflies!" Cillian crouched down, and his smile was so gentle it broke my heart. I hadn't seen that kind of tenderness on his face in a long time. "Of course, little guy." He grinned. "Hop on my back." Then, as I watched, his body began to change. Bones cracked and shifted. Skin rippled beneath a coat of dark gray fur. His frame expanded under the moonlight. In seconds, a massive wolf stood in the courtyard, amber eyes deep and warm. That was Cillian's wolf form. The little boy let out a whoop and scrambled onto the broad wolf's back. I stood frozen. The world spun around me. That was… that was the spot that had belonged to *me*. On countless full-moon nights, Cillian would shift and let me ride on his back as we tore through the forest, chasing starlight. He'd carry me to mountaintops for the sunrise, to streams where we'd catch fish, to patches of the sweetest wild blueberries. "Only my mate gets to ride on my back," he'd once murmured against my ear. "And you, Lyra, will always be my mate." But now, another woman's child sat in that place. Elowen's child. The great wolf bounded toward the forest with the boy on his back. Their silhouettes melted into the dark. I stood where I was, feeling the last trace of warmth drain out of my soul. Cold. A cold that went straight to the bone. I turned and stumbled back to my quarters. It was time to leave. Off to the Blood Kin. To those cold-blooded vampires. Could it really be any colder there than it was here?
The moment I stepped back into my room, I realized how foreign the space had become. Once, it had been full of life. Every morning, Caleb would set my favorite tea on the nightstand—a rare silver needle white tea he had to travel a hundred miles to a mountain valley to find. Cillian would light the fireplace at dusk, adjusting the heat to the exact temperature I liked, then lean against me and read aloud. But now… I looked around. Clothes lay scattered across the floor. The bed was a wreck. Unopened letters piled high on the desk. The fireplace held nothing but cold ash, and the air smelled stale. No one took care of any of this for me anymore. I sank down on the edge of the bed and wrapped my arms around myself. The two scars on my neck ached faintly, like two dead serpents gnawing at my soul. Memories rushed in like a tide. It had started three months ago, when Elowen first arrived at the pack. She had a five-year-old son named Toby, a body covered in scars, and a pair of eyes that were exhausted but fierce. Her husband had lost a power struggle and been killed by the new Alpha. She'd fled with her child. "She just needs a safe haven," my father had told me. "As a healer, she can be useful to the pack." I hadn't objected. I thought I was generous enough, kind enough. I never imagined that within a single month, everything would change. Elowen truly was exceptional. She cured long-standing ailments for several key members of the Elder Council. She taught the children how to identify herbs in the forest. She never troubled anyone, always solving her problems quietly on her own. "Look at Elowen," people in the pack started to say. "Raising a child alone, no mate, and she still has her life together." "Not like *some* she-wolves—two Alpha mates and still never satisfied, throwing tantrums left and right." Those words found their way to my ears, and I went crying to Caleb. "How can they say that about me?" I sobbed. "I just… I just want you two to spend more time with me." Caleb held me, but his gaze had already lost that old focus. "Lyra, don't you think you're being a little… oversensitive about Elowen?" "What's that supposed to mean?" I stared at him. "She's just a she-wolf who needs help," Caleb said. "And honestly, you leave everything for us to handle and never try doing things on your own. Maybe you could learn from her. Try being a little more independent." That was the first time Caleb told me I should "learn from another she-wolf." After that, things spiraled out of control like an avalanche. Caleb started coming home later and later, claiming he was helping Elowen repair her cottage—the little place was falling apart. Cillian began visiting her frequently too, saying he was helping her adjust to pack life. And me? I became hysterical. A caged animal. I'd stay up deep into the night waiting for them, demanding to know why they reeked of another she-wolf. I'd cry. I'd rage. I'd threaten. "If you dare betray me, I'll have my father drive her out of the pack!" That was the most foolish thing I ever said. Because the very next day, Caleb severed our mate bond. The pain… I can't even put it into words. It felt like someone had wrapped silver chains around your soul and ripped them apart in one vicious pull. You could hear the scream rising from some place deep inside yourself, feel your blood boiling in your veins, watch the entire world shatter into fragments before your eyes. I lay in bed for three solid days, burning with fever, slipping in and out of consciousness. When I finally woke, Cillian was sitting at my bedside, his eyes red and swollen. "I'm sorry," he said, holding my hand. "I'm so sorry, Lyra. I didn't know it would hurt this much…" "Then don't leave me." I was crying. "Cillian, please don't leave me." He was silent for a long time. Finally, all he said was: "I'll stay." But what stayed was only a shell. He stopped gathering the things I loved. He stopped sharing his thoughts with me. He stopped loving me the way he once had—wholly, completely. He was just… fulfilling an obligation. Like tending to a fragile patient. Until last night, when I caught Elowen's scent all over him. The pain and the fury finally broke the dam. "You're going to leave me too, aren't you?" I demanded. "You think she's better than me too?" "Lyra—" "Don't explain!" I screamed. "You're just like Caleb! You both think I'm nothing but dead weight! A spoiled, useless she-wolf!" Something shifted in his eyes then. Guilt turned into something that looked almost like… relief. "Maybe," he said slowly, "maybe you're right." Then he raised his hand and pressed it to the mark on my neck. "No—" I tried to fight him, but his strength far outmatched mine. The pain hit again, worse this time—because it was the second time. I screamed. I convulsed. I felt my soul tear clean in half. When it was over, Cillian was gone from the room. He left me alone, thrashing in the wreckage of my own soul. Now, sitting in this disheveled room, I made a decision. I would go to them. One last time. If they turned me away—if they had truly, irrevocably chosen Elowen—then I would let go for good. I would go to the Blood Kin, leave this place and all its agonizing memories, and never come back. But before that, I'd fight for them one final time. I got to my feet, pulled myself together quickly. A clean dress. Hair brushed smooth. I even spritzed a bit of perfume on my wrists—a gift Caleb had given me once. He'd said the scent of lily of the valley suited me. Then I walked out, heading for Elowen's cottage. Elowen lived on the western side of the manor, in a small standalone stone house. It had originally been a tool shed, but my father had it renovated as temporary housing for her. I hadn't even reached the door when I heard voices inside. Caleb and Cillian. "Did you go see her today?" That was Caleb—low, serious. "Just ran into her by chance." Cillian's reply. "She went to see the Alpha King." My footsteps halted. They were talking about me. "How did she look?" Caleb asked. A beat of silence. Then Cillian said: "Not good." "Going soft?" Caleb's voice sharpened. "If you're going soft, walk out now. Cillian, we've been over this. If we're going to lead this pack as dual Alphas, if we're going to carry it into the future, we need a Luna who is truly strong. Not a she-wolf whose only skills are crying and clinging." "I know." Cillian sounded tired. "I just… worry she might do something to Elowen again. Last time she nearly got Elowen expelled from the pack." "If she tries that again, I won't hold back," Caleb said, his tone glacial. "Elowen is the kind of asset this pack needs. And Lyra… she needs to learn what responsibility means. What sacrifice means." I stood outside that door, and the entire world came crashing down around me. So this was what they really thought. I wasn't strong enough. Wasn't independent enough. Wasn't *worthy* of being their Luna. And Elowen—the outsider—was their idea of the perfect mate. Grief, rage, humiliation—it all churned together, igniting into a blaze inside my chest. I turned to leave—and then a child's furious shriek split the air. "You bad wolf! Don't you dare hurt my mommy!" Then I saw water flying toward me, and a piercing hiss tore itself from my throat.
That hiss was mine. Burning. Searing, vicious burning. I looked down at my arm. My skin was smoking, giving off the stench of scorched flesh. It was— *silverleaf sap*. The plant that's toxic to werewolves. The pain ripped away my control. My body began to shift on instinct. Bones cracked. Teeth sharpened. Nails lengthened into claws. My wolf surged awake under the onslaught of agony, desperate to protect me, desperate to strike back. The door slammed open. Caleb and Cillian burst out. Toby cowered behind them, still clutching an empty bottle, his face white with terror. "Lyra!" Cillian cried. But what they saw wasn't my pain. They saw me mid-shift—fangs bared, claws out, facing a five-year-old child. In their eyes, I must have looked like a monster. A monster about to hurt a pup. "What the hell are you doing?!" Caleb's roar was deafening. The next instant, a wall of force slammed into me. Caleb had already half-shifted; he drove his shoulder into my body and sent me crashing to the ground. I hit the flagstones hard. Pain exploded through my back. But it was nothing compared to the pain in my heart. Cillian had already scooped Toby into his arms and was shielding the boy with his body, eyes locked on me like I was a threat. "I—" I tried to speak, but my throat would only produce a ragged croak. I fought to rein in the wolf rampaging inside me, forcing myself back into human form. The process was excruciating and slow, every bone grinding back into place like a separate torture. Finally, I was human again, crumpled on the ground. The wound on my arm was ghastly—skin charred black, flesh torn and raw. I was in too much pain to speak, but Caleb and Cillian weren't looking at the wound. They just stood there, eyes cold, staring at me like a stranger. "You'd go after a *child* now?" Caleb's voice was ice. "Lyra, I don't even know who you are anymore." He stepped forward, seized my throat in warning. "I'd suggest you leave. Now. Before I call the enforcers and have you dragged in for assaulting a pup." "The one who's hurt… is me," I managed to choke out. "Still making excuses!" His glare hardened further. "Looks like you need a lesson." His grip around my throat tightened. "No—" I struggled weakly, but there was no fighting an enraged Alpha. "Wait!" A voice cut through the suffocating standoff. Elowen emerged from inside. Her eyes—bright emerald green—went wide the moment they fell on my arm. "Oh God," she gasped. "That's a silverleaf burn!" She rushed toward me, but Caleb blocked her path. "Elowen, careful. She just tried to attack Toby." "No." Elowen shook her head, her gaze darting between me and Toby. "Toby, what's that in your hand?" The little boy held up the empty bottle, trembling. "It's… it's silverleaf sap. I saw this bad lady sneaking over here, and Mommy always says I should protect myself…" "So you threw it on her?" Elowen's voice turned stern. Toby flinched and nodded. Elowen took a deep breath and looked at Caleb and Cillian. "Can you not see? Her wound? Silverleaf is severely corrosive to werewolf skin. She didn't shift to attack—she shifted because of the *pain*. It's a reflexive response." Silence. Dead silence. Caleb and Cillian finally turned their eyes to my arm. In the moonlight, the wound looked even more horrific—blackened skin, curling flesh, the pale gleam of bone visible beneath. "Lyra…" Cillian's voice wavered. I smiled. It must have been an ugly smile. "So you finally see it?" My voice was raw. "I wasn't trying to hurt anyone. I just… I came to find you. One last time." I struggled to my feet, swaying with pain. Elowen stepped forward. "Let me look at that wound. I can—" "No need." I cut her off and took a step back. I looked at her—this perfect she-wolf. Strong. Independent. A healer. She had every quality I lacked. "You're remarkable, Elowen," I said. "You really are stronger than me, more independent, more suited to be Luna." "Lyra, that's not—" Cillian tried to say something. "But," I raised my voice, cutting him off, "I still have my dignity." I turned to Toby, the five-year-old hiding behind Cillian, eyes wide with fear. "Toby," I said. "You threw that on me. You owe me an apology." "Lyra!" Caleb's tone was pure warning. "He's just a kid!"
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