“Don’t think that acting pitiful will make me forgive you, or make my father keep you as his mate!”
“If you want to leave—then never come back!”
The young wolf’s snarl echoed through the courtyard. His small hands trembled slightly on the trigger, but his golden eyes gleamed with raw hatred.
The silver-tipped arrow whistled through the air.
I barely managed to twist aside. The arrow grazed my shoulder before embedding itself deep into my flesh. A searing pain tore through me, and a scream ripped from my throat.
The wound burned—not just from silver, but from betrayal.
Within seconds, Liam was beside me. He caught me as I stumbled, his scent of pine and dominance filling my lungs. “Clara! Moon Goddess—what happened?”
I could barely breathe. “Your son,” I gasped.
Blood soaked through my sleeve, the silver toxin biting into my veins.
Before Liam could speak, Selene’s shrill cry shattered the moment. “Alpha! Help!”
Aiden rushed to her side. “Papa, Selene twisted her ankle when she tried to help that witch!”
Liam turned, torn between us. His gaze flicked to Selene, who knelt on the ground clutching her ankle and whimpering dramatically. Her eyes met mine for the briefest second—smug, victorious.
He sighed heavily. “It’s a clean wound, Clara. Go to the infirmary. I’ll come after I take Selene to the pack healer.”
I almost laughed. Of course. Again, he chose her.
He lifted Selene effortlessly into his arms, cradling her as though she were fragile glass. Aiden trailed after them, looking proud, as if he’d done something noble.
The three of them disappeared into the night, leaving me kneeling on the cold marble floor—bleeding, broken, alone.
I pressed my palm to the wound, forcing myself to stand. Every movement sent waves of fire down my arm.
Fate truly had a cruel sense of humor.
“Still here, are you?” a familiar, venomous voice hissed behind me. “Haven’t you humiliated my son enough?”
I turned slowly. Maria Russo, Liam’s mother, the former Luna of Silvermoon, stood in the doorway, her silvery hair catching the moonlight like a crown of thorns. Her lips curled in disgust when she saw the blood on me.
“You wretched girl,” she snapped. “Do you want to die here and stain my courtyard with your filth? Go die outside the gates if you must!”
I clenched my teeth. “I was leaving, Maria. But your grandson shot me with a silver arrow.”
She let out a mocking laugh. “You hurt yourself, and now you blame my grandson? How pathetic. You think if you act pitiful, Liam will come running back to you?”
“I want nothing from your family,” I said coldly. “All I want is to leave this cursed place.”
“Then do it.” She grabbed my suitcase and hurled it through the open gate. “Get out!”
The force of her shove sent me stumbling. Pain exploded in my shoulder as I fell to my knees on the gravel path outside the estate.
“Go die somewhere else!” Maria spat before slamming the gate shut.
I pressed my good hand to the wound, trembling. “You’ll all regret this,” I whispered, my voice shaking with rage.
A black car pulled up beside the gate—the driver I’d summoned hours ago.
“I’m sorry for the delay, miss,” he said, his human voice oddly small in the moonlit stillness.
“It’s fine,” I murmured, clutching my arm. “Take me to the pack infirmary first.”
The driver’s eyes widened at the blood but said nothing. I sank into the seat, exhaustion washing over me. My vision blurred, and the world faded to black.
---
When I opened my eyes again, I was greeted by the steady beeping of monitors and the faint scent of antiseptic and wolfsbane.
I was lying in the Silvermoon Pack’s medical wing. My arm was bandaged, the skin around the wound pale and bruised. My suitcases sat neatly by the door—someone must have brought them in.
A healer stepped in, her white coat fluttering. “Luna Clara—” she caught herself, “Miss Clara. How do you feel?”
“I’ve been better,” I muttered. “What happened? I was in a car.”
“The driver found you unconscious and brought you here,” she explained. “You lost quite a bit of blood, but we’ve neutralized the silver. You’ll heal quickly.”
I nodded numbly. “Thank you.”
When she left, I reached for my phone. Not a single missed call from Liam. Not one message asking if I was alive.
My fingers tightened around the device until it almost cracked.
The door creaked open again, and this time Selene walked in, her perfume filling the small room before she did.
I sighed. “Shouldn’t you be limping somewhere, Selene? You twisted your ankle, remember?”
She smiled sweetly, her golden eyes gleaming. “Oh, that. I just wanted to see what Liam would do if both of us were hurt.” She leaned closer, whispering. “He carried me instead of you. Isn’t that wonderful?”
I turned my face away. “Enjoy it. You always wanted the role of his savior.”
But she stepped in front of me, blocking my path as I tried to stand. “There’s something you should know,” she said, voice dripping with satisfaction.
I looked up slowly. “What now?”
She smiled wider, pressing a hand to her abdomen. “I’m pregnant, Clara. With Liam’s child.”
The room spun.
For a long, breathless moment, I couldn’t move. My heart cracked open, but I refused to let her see it.
Eight years. Eight years of silent servitude. Eight years of being used, tolerated, and forgotten.
And now he’d done the one thing he’d always denied me.
When we were together, he made sure I drank wolfsbane tea after every night—ensuring I’d never bear his heir. He’d always said it wasn’t the right time, that the pack wouldn’t accept another child.
But now?
He wanted another child.
Just not with me.
Selene smirked, tilting her head. “Don’t look so surprised, dear. The Alpha always gets what he wants. And what he wants now… is me.”
I felt the last thread inside me snap.
“Then you can have him,” I said softly. My voice was steady, but inside, everything burned. “Have him. Have his pack. Have his bloodline. You’ve already taken everything else.”
I brushed past her and stepped into the hallway, the scent of disinfectant giving way to the cool morning air.
Somewhere outside, the moon was beginning to wane.
But in my chest, a new fire was rising—slow, cold, and deadly.
For the first time in eight years, I was done being the obedient omega.
They had broken my heart, but they had forgotten one truth about wolves.
Even a wounded one still bites.
