Layla
I followed Elder Geoffrey in silence.
Once we were alone, he unrolled a parchment.
“This was your bond scroll,” he said, speaking through the sign language interpreter. “The one sealing your union with Alpha Tristan. But it’s fading. The ink, the seal... all of it.”
I stared at it, numb.
“The bond fades as his loyalty wavers,” Elder Geoffrey continued. “And with what I’ve seen, he’s no longer bound to you—not truly.”
His words didn’t bring pain. They brought clarity.
I nodded slowly. “Then it’s time I stop clinging to a title that no longer exists.”
One light in the darkness—finally. The Moon Goddess and the balance of nature had begun unbinding our connection. Magic recognised what he refused to admit.
I texted Beta Aiken immediately.
[The bond is fading. His betrayal is undoing it.] But he hadn’t replied.
That night, as I was about to enter my room, Alpha Tristan found me—not in the room we once shared, but in a dusty old storage room.
He handed me a box.
“Wear this to the theatre tomorrow,” he said sharply. “As my Luna. You’ll stand beside me for the entire performance. We can’t afford to ruin our image. And bring the kid.”
I growled inwardly. He still didn’t know Naomi was gone.
His eyes lingered on me for a moment, as if waiting for a reaction. But before I could move, a chime echoed from my phone.
“Who’s that?” His eyes narrowed. “One of your lovers?”
I didn’t answer. I kept up the act, pretending not to hear.
He snatched my phone from my hands. “Give me the passcode.”
I said nothing.
“Bloody useless device—just like its owner.” He hurled it at the carpeted floor.
“Alpha?”
Rovena’s voice broke the moment. She stood there with little Owen in her arms, wearing that ever-so-sympathetic expression.
“Your son wants a bedtime story, darling,” she cooed.
A smile curled at his lips. He turned his back to me without another word.
Good. Stay that way. Because I didn’t care anymore.
When the door shut, I picked up my phone and switched it back on. Relief filled my chest when the screen lit up—and so did a message from Aiken.
[Your father’s holding back his fury, Layla. One word from you, and we’ll come get you.]
I hit call.
“Aiken?” My voice was barely above a whisper.
“Layla.” His voice was tight. “What’s happening?”
“Plans have changed,” I said quickly. “Pick me up at the theatre tomorrow. I’ll send the address. I’m done pretending.”
“I know your hearing’s returned. Seer Rhiannon said so yesterday.” A pause. “Do you want a bit of a show?”
“Do what you must—as long as it gets me out of the claws of those two demons.”
**
The next morning, Rovena was in a frenzy over the gown Alpha Tristan had gifted her. She twirled in front of the mirror, then shoved it in my arms.
“Press it. Properly,” she demanded. “We can’t look like peasants at the theatre tonight.”
That was just the start.
Over the course of the day, she gave me the most ridiculous errands.
“I want my necklace threads colour-matched to the lining of this dress.”
“Steam the curtain tassels—they look at me funny.”
“Count all my hairpins. There should be seventy.”
By the fourth hour, I’d nearly ripped a velvet ribbon in half.
She shoved little Owen in my arms next. “Watch him while I get ready.”
He started crying almost immediately. I tried everything, but he wouldn’t stop.
“Ugh! Honestly, Luna Layla,” Rovena snapped when she returned. “You can’t even calm a baby. How on earth did you manage Naomi?”
I clenched my jaw. My hands shook with the urge to slap her into next week.
But I didn’t. Because she’d still not told me where Naomi was buried.
And then Alpha Tristan walked in.
He didn’t scold her. He didn’t defend me. He just... stood there, watching. Silent.
His eyes landed on me. “Where’s Naomi?”
I said nothing.
His gaze slid down to my collarbone—right where his mate mark used to burn bright.
Now it was barely a shadow. Fading like the bond we once had.
“What’s this?” he asked. “You think I cheated, and suddenly your body rejects me?”
I looked him in the eye for the first time in couple days.
As I turned to leave and prepare myself, something pulled at the edge of my mind.
I had to tell him the truth—even if, to Alpha Tristan, it would sound no different than one of my own delusions.
“Naomi’s dead. And I’m not your Luna anymore.” My voice was low, calm. The final nail in a coffin. “Even nature has rejected that title, Alpha.”
He laughed. “You still be my Luna until I reject you.”
A cold, dismissive, arrogant laugh. Like I was telling fairy tales.
He wouldn’t understand. But he would. Very soon.
