To the pack, I was Luna Seraphine Thorne.
But inside the Alpha’s Estate, I was a placeholder.
A body in Kael’s bed when his guilt clawed too loudly, a shadow in his meetings, a caretaker to a pack I no longer recognized.
The mark on my neck had dulled weeks ago. And with every passing day, I felt it—
Fading.
Fracturing.
Fraying like thread pulled too tight.
My phone buzzed.
A location pin.
No name. No message. Just a single red dot on a digital map.
I exhaled slowly.
The ache in my ribcage—still bruised from the crash—tightened, but I forced myself to move.
Kael was still my mate.
Until the Council accepted the dissolution, I was bound by duty.
And a fool’s love.
The address led me to the upper-tier ridge—the Howler’s Lounge.
A secluded, warded den only accessible to high-ranking wolves and visiting Alphas.
The kind of place Kael used to scoff at. “Too flashy,” he’d say. “Too many games.”
But there he was now.
Slouched deep in a leather chair, collar open, drink sloshing in one hand while his Beta and two Deltas sat beside him like vultures circling a dying god.
His eyes were glassy, red-rimmed. His mouth slack from drink.
Not guilt.
Just loss.
“She said no?” one Delta asked, teeth gleaming. “Seriously? After all that?”
Kael shrugged.
Another chuckled. “Rogues, man. No sense of gratitude. You save ‘em, they spit in your face.”
The Beta beside him muttered, “Don’t worry. There are a dozen unmated females in this pack alone who’d beg for your attention. Including your Luna.”
The laughter that followed nearly knocked the breath from my lungs.
It echoed, sharp and merciless, like blades tossed around a bonfire.
So this is what I was to him now.
A running joke.
I didn’t knock. I didn’t pause. I pushed the iron-latched door open and walked in.
Silence fell like a guillotine.
Kael’s head lolled up. He blinked at me—confused. Like I wasn’t supposed to exist outside his mistakes.
A Delta smirked. “Well, well. The Luna honors us.”
I didn’t look at him.
I walked straight to Kael, ignoring the flare of pain in my side.
“I’m here to take you home,” I said, voice flat and cold.
He didn’t argue.
Didn’t apologize.
Just stood, swaying, and threw an arm over my shoulders like it was a leash.
His weight nearly crushed my fractured ribs, but I didn’t flinch. I wouldn’t give them the pleasure.
We were halfway to the door when another voice cut through the air.
“Alpha Thorne.”
We turned.
Mira stood in the doorway, her eyes thunderstorm-dark, her hair dripping rain.
The sheer fire in her gaze nearly scorched me.
“If you were going to have your Luna come,” she said, voice shaking, “why message me at all?”
Kael frowned. “What?”
Mira took a step in. “Don’t humiliate me like this. I didn’t ask for your bond drama.”
Kael straightened. “I didn’t send anything.”
Her face crumpled for half a second. “Then who—?”
He whipped around. “Who touched my communicator?”
No one answered.
His voice dropped, low and brutal. “Who. Did it?”
The room stiffened.
“Because if any of you think it’s funny to toy with her—if any of you put Mira in this mess for laughs—you’ll regret it.”
Mira’s eyes brimmed. She turned and fled down the hall.
And Kael—Kael didn’t hesitate.
He dropped his arm from around me like it weighed too much. Like I weighed too much.
“Sera, wait!”
No. Not me. Her.
He stumbled after Mira, calling her name, leaving me to watch the man who once vowed forever chase a woman he barely knew.
Again.
Behind me, the whispers returned.
“Damn. He’s obsessed.”
“Think he’ll try to claim her?”
“What about the Luna?”
“Still hanging on like a pup left in the rain.”
Laughter.
It didn’t burn this time.
It just sank.
And maybe the worst part was—I wasn’t even angry.
Just empty.
Like my soul had quietly packed its things and slipped out while no one was looking.
A sharp breath caught in my lungs. My ribs throbbed. I lifted a hand to steady myself.
And then—
“Seraphine.”
Lucas’s voice. Quiet. Solid. Steady.
I turned.
He stood near the back, framed by the amber glow of the fireplace. His silver eyes locked on mine, unreadable.
“I’ll take you home.”
I didn’t argue.
I just walked to him.
The ride was silent.
His scent—cedar and ash—filled the car, calming and cutting all at once.
He didn’t ask questions.
Didn’t offer comfort I wasn’t ready to take.
But when we pulled up to the Alpha Estate and I reached for the door, his voice stopped me.
“You’re really going to end it?”
I looked at him.
And for the first time since the bond began to unravel, I felt something honest between us—something unspoken but heavy.
“I have to,” I said. “Before it kills what’s left of me.”
Lucas nodded. Just once.
“Then I’ll take the papers to the Council at dawn.”
I didn’t thank him.
There was nothing left to say.
I stepped out of the car, walked into the cold, and closed the door behind me.
But even before the lock clicked, I heard his voice again—
“...You deserved better than this, Sera.”
And for the first time in weeks,
I almost cried.
