How ironic.
I yanked the bedroom door open and stormed out. The moment I reached the main hall of the den, one of the house wolves hurried over, her head lowered, eyes averted. "Luna Ironmaw, you're awake! The second Luna went into labor suddenly. Alpha Ironmaw took her to the Healing Hall!"
I stopped dead. My wolf, who had been coiled tight and restless beneath my ribs since the moment I'd seen that group chat, went utterly still.
"'Second Luna'?" The words came out quiet. Dangerously quiet. "Who told you to call her that?"
I grabbed the ceremonial stone vase beside me and hurled it to the floor. It shattered across the slate, fragments spinning into the walls. The sound cracked through the den like a bone breaking. My chest heaved. The house wolf flinched so hard she nearly dropped to her knees, her wolf's submission rolling off her in waves.
"It was Ms. Thornveil's instructions," she whispered, throat bared. "She said Alpha Ironmaw agreed that she's also the lady of the den. You're the first Luna, and she's the second..."
She was still talking when I snatched my keys and drove to the Healing Hall.
By the time I arrived, Corvina had already delivered.
The scent hit me before I reached the room. Scorched iron and dry cedar bark, Theron's scent, threaded so tightly with that cloying honeysuckle-and-vanilla sweetness that they'd become almost indistinguishable. My stomach turned. My wolf pressed against the inside of my chest, not growling, not whimpering. Just pressing. Like she was trying to brace me for what came next.
The room was packed. Nearly all of Theron's inner circle had crowded inside, laughing and talking over each other like it was a celebration. Their combined scents filled the corridor, warm and boisterous, the smell of pack wolves at ease. As if this were a bonding ceremony. As if this were something to honor.
"Theron, does your mate even know Corvina's had the pup?"
"Don't bring her up." Theron was leaning over the bassinet, teasing the sleeping newborn with one finger. The pup smelled of milk and new wool and a faint trace of pine, clean and innocent and entirely unaware of the wreckage his arrival had caused. A soft, doting smile tugged at the corner of Theron's mouth. "This pup's gorgeous."
"Seriously, Theron. If you look closely, he even looks a little like you!"
"Keep it down. If Seraphina hears that kind of talk, she'll overthink everything."
Corvina lay propped against the Healing Hall pillows, her makeup still flawless, not a strand of hair out of place. She didn't look like a she-wolf who'd just labored through a birth. The honeysuckle scent was thicker here, almost suffocating, layered so heavily it made the air feel syrupy. "Overthink what? Whether she agrees or not, I'm keeping my promise. This pup will carry the Ironmaw name and be added to the pack bloodline registry."
"But you'd have to sever the mate bond with Seraphina first. That doesn't feel right..."
"It's not a big deal. Once the pup's registered under my name, I'll sever the bond with Corvina and re-bond with Seraphina. Simple. If she won't agree, I'll just do it without her knowing."
Corvina sniffled, dabbing at the corner of her eye with practiced delicacy. "Seraphina is so kindhearted. She'll say yes. I'd be so grateful to her. Honestly, however long I get to carry the Luna title, even just on paper, I'd be more than happy."
"Relax. You all know how devoted she is to Theron. Remember when she went to that alliance summit and sang for those visiting Alphas just so Theron could secure the territory pact?"
"And that time Theron was brought to the Healing Hall for a gut infection? She thought it was something serious. Got on her knees and begged the moon-healer, then knelt outside the healing chamber for hours until the treatment was over. She's bound to him body and soul. She'd never leave. A little thing like this is nothing compared to losing Theron."
"Exactly what I was thinking."
Theron's lips curved. He pulled Corvina closer against him, his arm tightening around her shoulders. His Alpha aura settled over the room, warm and satisfied, the aura of a wolf who believed he owned everything in it. "No matter what it takes, I'll give Corvina and this pup a home."
I stood in the doorway and watched the man I'd loved for seven years hold another woman in his arms.
My fingers curled at my sides until my nails bit into my palms.
Something deep inside me made a sound. Not my voice. My wolf. A low, thin keening that vibrated through my bones and never reached the air, the kind of sound a wolf makes when it finally understands that the bond it has been pouring itself into has been hollow for a long, long time. I felt it in my sternum, in the backs of my teeth, in the place behind my ribs where the mate bond lived. The bond that should have been a golden thread between us. It had been fraying for years, I realized. I just hadn't wanted to look at it. And now, standing in that doorway with the scent of scorched iron and honeysuckle filling my lungs like poison, I could feel every remaining thread pulling taut, ready to snap.
He had it all figured out. He'd been planning to give Corvina a home all along.
Well then. Who was I to stand in his way?
I stepped into the doorway and spoke quietly. "A boy? Congratulations."
The moment I appeared, every face in the room went white. The laughter died. The warmth in the air curdled. I could smell the shift, the sharp spike of unease cutting through the easy camaraderie like a blade through cloth. Every wolf in that room felt it: the Luna had heard everything.
Theron released Corvina instantly and crossed the room in three quick strides. His scent shifted, the acrid edge buried beneath something deliberately softened, the way an Alpha smooths his aura when he's trying to manage a situation. His voice turned gentle, almost tender. "What are you doing here? You're carrying a pup. You should be resting at the den."
"I heard everything you just said."
I looked up at him. My wolf was silent now. Perfectly, terribly silent, the way a forest goes silent before a storm breaks. I held his gaze and did not lower mine.
"You want to sever our mate bond so you can register Corvina's pup under the Ironmaw bloodline."
"Seraphina, I just feel sorry for her. You know she has no pack. I'm only doing this because she was Fenris's mate. He was like a blood-brother to me. He saved my life..."
He scrambled to explain, the words tumbling out with that practiced urgency I'd heard a hundred times before, the voice he used when he needed me to be understanding, to be patient, to be the good mate who swallowed her pain so he could have what he wanted. I cut him off, my expression blank. "I agree. Let's sever the bond."
"Really?"
His eyes lit up. He hadn't expected me to say yes that easily.
And there it was. The truth of it, laid bare in the fraction of a second before he remembered to rearrange his face. Not relief that I understood. Not guilt. Not even surprise, not really. Joy. Pure, uncomplicated joy, bright as a flame in his eyes, there and gone in a heartbeat. The joy of a wolf who had just been handed exactly what he wanted without having to fight for it.
My wolf did not keen again. She did not howl, did not snarl, did not throw herself against the cage of my ribs. She simply lay down. Quietly. The way a wolf lies down when it has decided that something is dead and there is no longer any reason to stand guard over the body.
I held his gaze and felt nothing at all.
