Watching the two of them together made bile rise in my throat. The way Ronan hovered over Lilith—gentle, attentive, protective—was unbearable, especially knowing he hadn’t spared even a glance for his own son in years. That contrast alone was enough to ignite a fury so intense my hands trembled.
“So this is it,” I said, my voice shaking despite my effort to stay composed. “You’ve wanted me gone for a long time, haven’t you? Fine. Consider it done. I’m leaving. We’re finished.”
He had never wanted me as his mate. Our bond existed only because our packs were allies and tradition demanded it. He complied out of duty, not desire. To him, I was a responsibility imposed by custom, nothing more. He never acknowledged my presence, never recognized my wolf, never nurtured our bond. Over time, that neglect weakened me. My connection to my wolf had deteriorated so badly that it felt like it was slipping away entirely—so fragile that only the Moonstone might be able to repair it.
The Moonstone was no ordinary relic. It was a sacred heirloom passed down through generations to the eldest child of our bloodline, and it had been entrusted to me. I had always known of its power, yet I had never dared to use it. Power came with consequences, and I was afraid—afraid of what it would demand of me, afraid of whether I was worthy of wielding it, even if it meant restoring my broken bond with my wolf.
Ronan, as always, misunderstood me completely. In his eyes, I was nothing more than a jealous woman grasping for his attention. He sneered, his tone sharp with disdain.
“Really?” he scoffed. “Is this your new way of trying to get me to notice you? You can’t use your son to pressure me anymore, so now you’re putting yourself on display instead?”
A year ago, Tavian’s health had begun to fail. He grew pale, his appetite vanished, and even the pack healer was at a loss. Dark veins surfaced beneath his skin, as if his blood itself were changing. He collapsed without warning, again and again. Despite our kind’s remarkable healing abilities, he couldn’t even recover from something as simple as a headache.
During those desperate months, I mind-linked Ronan countless times, begging him to come home—if not for me, then for the son who yearned for his father. But Ronan never showed up. He was convinced I was using Tavian’s illness to manipulate him, to trap him with guilt and sympathy.
After nearly ten years together, this was all he thought of me.
I brushed away my tears, my voice steady despite the pain clawing at my chest. “Believe whatever you want. I’m still leaving.”
I turned and began pulling my luggage toward the door when Lilith suddenly spoke, her voice carefully laced with concern.
“Alpha, didn’t you say you were going to celebrate Tavian’s birthday as a family?” she asked softly. “You didn’t cancel that just to go to the mountains with me, did you? Lyra looks really upset…”
Ronan responded without hesitation, his tone reassuring.
“Don’t worry about it. I know what matters most. Birthdays can be celebrated anytime. But once the snow melts, the view won’t be the same.”
At those words, a bitter laugh escaped me. I said nothing as I continued dragging my suitcase across the floor. Something in my silence must have unsettled him, because Ronan suddenly rushed forward and grabbed my wrist, irritation flashing across his face.
“It’s the middle of the night,” he snapped. “Are you seriously choosing now to leave?”
Then he noticed my swollen eyes and hesitated. His voice softened slightly.
“Is missing one celebration really worth crying like this?”
My eyes burned from hours of tears, and for the briefest moment, I thought I saw a flicker of pity in his gaze.
“I’ll rearrange my schedule next month,” he added. “I’ll take Tavian then. That should be enough, right?”
Next month.
What next month was left for Tavian?
If he had cared even a little more, he would never have said something so thoughtless. I yanked my hand free.
“There’s no need,” I said coldly.
He stared at his empty palm, clearly stunned. The woman who once clung to him, who endured everything in silence, was now pulling away as if he were poison. He snapped out of it and took a step after me—only for Lilith to grab his arm.
“Alpha, this is my fault,” she said quickly, tears welling in her eyes. “Even though I knew Tavian was only pretending to be sick, I shouldn’t have tried to compete with a child for your attention. Now Lyra is angry because of me.”
Pretending?
Faking his illness?
My thoughts went blank. The world seemed to tilt. By the time reality rushed back in, my hand had already moved—striking my sister across the face with a sharp, resounding slap.
