Mireya’s POV
That night, I drifted into sleep with my fingers wrapped tightly around the small vial of wolfsbane, holding it the way someone might cling to a charm or a prayer. The glass was cold against my skin—unforgiving, yet strangely grounding. I didn’t drink it. I wasn’t ready for that. But keeping it close felt like leaving a door unlocked, a silent promise that if the pain ever became too much, there was a way out waiting for me.
The quiet in my room was oppressive, pressing in on my chest until breathing felt like effort. My eyes kept drifting toward the empty space near the door, half-expecting to see him again—the younger version of Alpha Darius who had appeared before, the one whose gaze hadn’t yet hardened with cruelty, whose touch hadn’t been poisoned by betrayal. But the room offered nothing. No warmth. No presence. Just dust floating in the dim light and the unmistakable truth that I was alone.
With a weary breath, I forced myself to move. Packing gave my hands something to do when my heart refused to cooperate. I pulled clothes from drawers, stacked books whose pages still smelled faintly of the packhouse, gathered fragments of a life I once believed was permanent. Each folded shirt, each tucked-away memory felt like another quiet goodbye. I wasn’t leaving because I chose to. I was leaving because I had been discarded.
As I dragged the zipper across one of the bags, something caught my attention. A flicker. I glanced down at my wrist and froze. Beneath my skin, along the vein, a faint green light pulsed softly, almost alive. My wolf stirred instantly, alert and curious, but before I could react—before I could even breathe—it vanished, leaving nothing behind.
I blinked hard and shook my head. Exhaustion, I told myself. Grief. Hallucinations born from too much pain and too little rest.
“Just a few days,” I murmured into the empty room. “That’s all. Give me a few days, and I’ll be gone. Exactly what he wants.”
The bitterness in my voice surprised me, but saying it out loud steadied me somehow. Made it real.
That weekend, a city-wide wolf gathering was scheduled. Normally, I would have stayed far away—too many stares, too many unspoken questions. But Anna, one of the few friends I still trusted, wouldn’t take no for an answer. She insisted I come, and pride wouldn’t let me refuse. I didn’t want to look fragile. Not in front of anyone.
The train ride stretched on endlessly, the steady rhythm of metal on tracks almost hypnotic. I nearly dozed off—until a sudden heaviness seeped into my limbs. My chest felt hollow, as though something vital had been scooped out of me. My strength drained quickly, and my wolf whimpered weakly, curling in on herself.
Alarm prickled at my senses.
I pulled out my phone, hands shaking, and checked my account.
Nothing.
The balance I’d had access to for years—the funds allocated to me as Luna, the shared account with Darius—every last coin was gone. It was as if I had never existed.
My vision blurred as tears welled up, the screen swimming in front of me.
Again, that eerie green glow flashed across my wrist, gone almost as soon as it appeared. But this time, it left something behind—a dull ache in my chest, a strange resonance I couldn’t explain. I clenched my fist, trying to force the feeling away.
I shut my eyes.
And he was there.
The Darius from years ago. Younger. Softer. His hair was shorter, his smile gentle, his blue eyes bright in a way that made my chest ache. My breath caught painfully, and before I could stop myself, tears slid down my cheeks.
“Why are you showing up now?” I whispered, my voice cracking. “After all of this… why?”
He smiled at me the same way he used to, like I was something precious. “Because you still need me,” he replied quietly, his voice echoing like a memory I’d replayed too many times.
Then he disappeared.
I jolted, eyes flying open as the train continued its journey, the passengers around me unaware that my world was splintering apart piece by piece.
By the time I arrived, I was running on empty. I rented a modest room at a nearby inn—nothing fancy, just enough to keep me upright until the weekend was over.
The gathering itself was meant to honor the accomplishments of wolves across the territories. The ballroom glittered beneath massive chandeliers, gold light spilling over polished floors. Laughter rang out as wolves in elegant attire mingled, boasting and celebrating. I adjusted the borrowed dress I wore, painfully aware that it clung where it shouldn’t and hung awkwardly elsewhere. When I caught my reflection in the mirrored walls, I winced. I looked like an outsider pretending to belong.
“Mireya!”
I turned just in time to see Anna hurrying toward me, her smile genuine, her arms already reaching. Relief washed over me—
And then my eyes drifted past her.
Alpha Darius stood near the center of the room. Marcella Thompson was at his side.
She looked flawless in a form-fitting golden gown that shimmered under the lights. Her hair cascaded in perfect waves, lips painted a bold red. She held onto Darius’s arm as though she’d always been there, and his hand rested at her waist with infuriating familiarity.
I looked away quickly, but not before I caught the satisfied curl of her lips.
The program went on. Awards were announced. Applause echoed. Then Marcella’s name was called.
She stepped onto the stage, introduced as a healer-doctor being honored for her contributions. My wolf bristled as the room erupted in claps.
“I’d like to share a presentation highlighting my work over the past year,” Marcella said sweetly.
The lights dimmed. The projector buzzed to life.
The screen filled—not with her achievements—but with documents.
My documents.
Medical files.
The room fell deathly silent.
In stark, merciless text, the words stared back at me:
Patient Name: Mireya Ashbourne.
Diagnosis: Miscarriage.
Gasps rippled through the crowd. My lungs refused to work.
Whispers followed, sharp and cruel.
“Ashbourne?”
“That family was exiled, weren’t they?”
“Cursed bloodline.”
“The Moon Goddess erased the child to end them for good.”
The sounds blurred into a single, overwhelming roar. My wolf shrank deep inside me, trembling.
I couldn’t stay.
I ran.
I shoved my way through the crowd, ignoring the looks of shock, judgment, and pity. Cold air hit my face as I burst outside, my chest burning as I fought for breath. I didn’t stop until I reached the parking lot.
And there he was.
Alpha Darius leaned against his car, calm and composed, as though nothing had happened.
I approached him unsteadily. “Alpha…” My voice broke. “Why would you allow this? Why would you let her—”
“She made a mistake,” he said coolly. “That’s all.”
I stared at him in disbelief. “You know that isn’t true. After five years—after everything we shared—”
“You are no longer my Luna,” he cut in sharply. “And since you seem confused, let me be clear. You have no claim to my assets. I finalized the paperwork last week. Every expense, every resource you used as part of Deathwell Pack—we will be demanding repayment. You are now in debt to us.”
The words struck like claws.
I staggered back, clutching my stomach. “Debt?” I whispered. “You promised me a life of stability. I gave everything to that pack—everything to you. Was that worth nothing?”
His gaze hardened. “This conversation is over.”
I searched his face for the man I once loved. The one who swore he would never abandon me.
He was gone.
And in that moment, I understood something terrifying.
I didn’t recognize him anymore.
