On the day of my nineteenth Moonbinding Ceremony with Draven, future Alpha of the Blackspire Pack, my grandmother collapsed—struck down by a sudden heart failure during a surge of moon energy.
My mate's first moon mate—Myrielle, desperate to prove herself as the youngest Heartmender in the kingdom—slipped into the healing chamber without reporting to the Elders.
But the treatment failed. My grandmother didn’t wake up after that.
When my father knelt at the gates of the Moonspire healer-sanctum, begging the High Healers for justice, masked wolves dragged him into the shadows, shoved a hood over his head and beat him until both his legs shattered.
Anger overwhelmed me. I headed to the Moon Guard outpost to report Myrielle, but on the way, Draven’s wolf-drawn carriage hit me hard.
My ribs snapped. Bones splintered. I was rushed into the Main Healer chamber, half-conscious, icy moonlight flickering above me.
As the healers pushed my bed down the stone passageway, I heard one of Draven’s pack brothers murmur casually,
“First, the ceremonial den burns down. Now her grandmother’s ‘accident.’ Draven, how many excuses do you need to delay the Moonbinding again?”
A tremor ran through me. My blood turned to frost.
Then I heard Draven’s calm voice—the same Alpha who once swore under the full moon that he’d love me for eternity.
“There won’t be another delay.”
“Wait,” his friend lowered his voice, “you’re really going through with bonding yourself to her? What about your little first moon mate sweetheart?”
Draven’s tone softened—a softness that sliced me open like a claw.
“During the three darkest cycles of my life, Lunessa stayed by my side. I vowed to repay that loyalty.”
“But after returning to the Blackspire Pack and meeting Myrielle again… she’s the she-wolf I always thought would stand beside me. That kind of love doesn’t disappear.”
He exhaled. “Nineteen postponed ceremonies already… that was my selfishness. If Lunessa just behaves and lets the charges against Myrielle go, I’ll fulfill my promise to her.”
I couldn’t breathe.
So this was what lay beneath every delay.
I had once believed fate was simply cruel, that the Moon Goddess had tested us.
The first ceremony—canceled after Myrielle’s moon-beast attacked me, I was taken to the healing chamber.
The second—after Draven insisted on guiding me through an enchanted lake and I nearly drowned.
The third—after a supposed “enemy” stabbed me during a nighttime ambush.
But now I knew the truth.
Each tragedy… each “accident”… orchestrated by him.
Because he never wanted to bond with me.
And this time, to escape the binding, he let Myrielle’s treatment fail—leaving my grandmother trapped in a silent body.
Tears blurred my vision. My heart felt carved open, but one truth rose sharp as a fang: I would never remain in this false engagement.
With shaking hands, I called Draven’s mother, Carmina—the Blackspire Matriarch.
My voice trembled, but my will did not.
“I accept your offer. One hundred million moon-credits. I’ll leave Draven and disappear from his life forever.”
——
There was a cold pause, then her elegant voice drifted through the receiver.
“Seven days. You have seven days to pack and vanish from Draven’s territory.”
“I’ll transfer one million now. The remaining ninety-nine will be released the moment you leave.”
She hung up without another word.
I sat frozen on the healing bed. Tears refused to fall, yet an impossible weight crushed my chest.
The door opened.
Draven stepped inside, lifting my hand as if the carriage accident he caused was nothing more than an unfortunate mishap.
“Don’t blame Myrielle,” he said softly. “She overreached, that’s all. The failed treatment wasn’t entirely her fault.”
“She…” My voice cracked. “She turned my grandmother into a lifeless husk!”
“She regrets it,” he interrupted gently. “She hasn’t eaten, hasn’t slept. She plans to apologize to you.”
Then, in that calm, coaxing Alpha tone:
“I’ll handle your father’s case and your grandmother’s care. Just trust me, Lunessa. Don’t cause trouble. We’ll complete our Moonbinding soon.”
Moonbinding…
His eyes flickered with something I couldn’t name.
I remembered the conversation I overheard—and understanding hit me like a blade.
“I don’t want her apology!” I snapped. “She hurt someone—she must pay!”
His expression darkened instantly. “Lunessa, you continue to disappoint me.”
He lifted his crystal communicator, its cold light glinting in his eyes.
“Withdraw the charges against Myrielle… or your father loses his chance to ever walk again. You have thirty seconds.”
My lungs seized. Breath escaped me.
Why? Why had everything twisted into this nightmare?
Where was the wolf-boy my father once sheltered from bullies, the boy mocked for being a “fake pack heir” to the Blackspire bloodline?
Where was the young wolf who blushed when my grandmother handed him extra food and whispered, ‘No one’s ever done this for me before.’
Where was the man who once vowed, ‘I’ll love you forever, Lunessa.’
Seven cycles ago, Draven was revealed to be the wrong son—switched at birth. When the truth came out, he was sent back to his biological pack in the countryside.
He stood outside the crumbling den next to ours, clothes torn, eyes empty.
I was the one who reached for him, shared my meals, defended him when the pack member mocked him, telling him he still mattered.
We grew up together. Those lunar academy cycles were the brightest of my life.
But after we passed the academy exams, the Blackspire Pack suddenly demanded he return.
Before leaving, he held my hands and whispered. “Come with me, Lunessa. I’ll protect you. One day, I’ll make you my Luna.”
I believed him.
Then, in the Alpha Kingdom’s academy, Myrielle resurfaced—his elegant, high-born first moon mate fiancée.
At banquets, they stood beneath moon-crystal chandeliers, perfectly matched.
And I—awkward, out of place—clutched my goblet in the shadows like a fool.
Back then, Draven would still take my hand and declare before everyone.
“This is my betrothed.”
He helped build my craft, defended me from jealous wolves, even crossed entire territories to care for me when I was ill.
I never doubted his love. Until now.
Looking at his cold, unyielding face, hearing his threats, I realized—all that tenderness was guilt.
Not love.
His heart had always been Myrielle’s.
And I… I had been nothing but a debt to repay. A wildflower he pitied.
My love was a cruel joke.
“Three… two—”
“Fine,” I whispered. “I’ll do it.”
Draven paused, then smiled faintly. He pulled me into his arms, resting his chin on my head.
“Good girl. Just endure this one last time. I’ll make it up to you.”
But as he held me, my gaze caught the back of his crystal communicator.
A charm—etched with a picture of him and Myrielle, younger, faces pressed together, smiling.
My heart stopped.
He had never liked using charms. I begged him once, but he refused, calling them childish.
Yet now… he carried her face everywhere.
My voice trembled. “Can you… arrange my father’s healing ritual now?”
“Of course,” he murmured. “I’ll—”
The door burst open.
Myrielle’s maid ran in, breathless. “Alpha Draven! Lady Molthaven just collapsed!”
Draven’s expression snapped. He dropped my hand and sprinted for the door.
“Draven!” I cried. “My father’s healing procedure—!”
But he shoved my wound-bindingsd hand aside, disgust twisting his expression.
Pain shot through me like a blade.
All the warmth he ever showed turned to ice shards slicing through my heart. He disappeared without a backward glance.
The world went white. A silent scream burned in my throat.
Draven… since you’ve chosen betrayal so ruthlessly—then in seven days, I will vanish from your life. And you will never see me again.
