Mira’s POV
I never thought I’d find myself back inside the Nightbane Pack’s grand hall—the same place that once felt untouchable, almost unreal. The marble floors shone beneath my scuffed boots, reflecting chandeliers that glittered like frozen blades—beautiful, but cold enough to cut. I had no right to be here anymore. Not after everything. But when Elder Marcelle calls, you come. Refusing her isn’t an option—not if you still have something left to lose.
I caught her scent before I heard her voice—lavender, laced with authority that made my wolf instinctively retreat.
“Sit, Mira,” she said, her tone polite but icy. “We need to talk.”
I stayed standing for a second before giving in. “What do you want from me?” My voice came out rough from too many sleepless nights.
A faint smile touched her lips—something almost kind, if I didn’t know better. “Straightforward. I like that.” She motioned to the chair across her desk. The entire room screamed power—portraits of past Lunas, the Nightbane crest carved in gold, the heavy scent of wealth and history.
She pulled out a clean white envelope and slid it toward me. I didn’t open it. I didn’t have to.
“Five hundred thousand dollars,” she said smoothly. “Enough for you to disappear and start over. Far away from my son.”
My throat tightened. “So you’re paying me to walk away from Theron.”
“I’m paying you to stop pretending you belong beside him,” she corrected, her voice sharpening. “You’re an omega, Mira. You came from nothing. My son—Alpha Theron Nightbane—was meant for greatness, not a life tied to some broken-down home with… your deceased mother.”
My chest twisted at that. I forced myself to stay calm. “Love doesn’t care about status.”
She let out a soft laugh, bitter and sharp. “Love is irrelevant when it comes to legacy. Did you really think I’d let you ruin his future over feelings?”
Her words dragged me back to the day I found him.
He was half-dead in the forest—bleeding, barely conscious, stuck between forms. I thought he was just another rogue. I had no idea he was the future Alpha of Nightbane. My mother and I took him in, cared for him, kept him alive. He didn’t remember who he was—just broken pieces of a past filled with violence and betrayal.
For a while… he was mine.
He fixed things around our home, laughed with me over burnt meals, held me close beneath the moon like I was the only thing that mattered. He didn’t see me as an omega. Just… Mira.
Then one day, he remembered.
The mark on his arm burned, his identity came back—and the man I knew disappeared with it.
He turned distant. Colder. Like I was nothing more than a mistake. And when his family came for him, he didn’t hesitate. He chose them.
And now here I was—sitting across from the woman who took him away—being offered money to erase whatever was left.
She must’ve seen something in my expression because she sighed and reached for her phone. “Still resisting?” she murmured. “Maybe this will help.”
The screen behind her lit up.
My breath caught.
Two wolves stood near a cliff, holding something between them—a bronze urn.
“Mom…” My voice barely came out.
Marcelle tilted her head slightly. “You recognize it, don’t you? Your mother’s ashes.”
My chest tightened painfully. “What are you doing?”
“They’re waiting for my signal,” she said lightly. “If I don’t call within ten minutes, they’ll scatter her into the ocean.”
“Don’t!” My voice broke as I stepped forward. “Please… don’t do this. She doesn’t deserve that.”
“Neither does my son deserve the mess you’ve created,” she replied calmly. “You filed a case against Irene—his future mate. Accusing her of murder? That ends today.”
My hands curled into fists.
Irene. The woman who took everything from me.
And now even justice was being stripped away.
“Withdraw the case,” Marcelle continued, her voice low and steady. “Leave Nightbane territory. Stay away from my son. Do that, and your mother’s ashes remain untouched. Refuse…”
Her gaze hardened.
“And you lose even that.”
Tears blurred my vision. Rage burned inside me, but it didn’t matter. I was still an omega. Power like hers crushed everything in its path.
“…Fine,” I said, my voice barely a whisper. “I’ll drop the case. I’ll leave. Just don’t touch her.”
A satisfied look crossed her face. She tapped her phone, and on the screen, the wolves disappeared—taking the urn with them.
I stared at the envelope. “I don’t want your money.”
“Take it anyway,” she said smoothly. “Consider it payment. You did, after all, keep my son alive once. This is simply your reward.”
The way she said it made my stomach turn—like everything Theron and I had ever shared meant nothing.
I pushed my chair back and stood, legs unsteady but refusing to show it. “You’ll get what you want,” I said quietly. “I’ll be gone tomorrow.”
And this time, I won’t look back. Not even for him.
