Lily’s POV
Since Abigail moved into our shared quarters, the air around Hudson and me had shifted—like the very winds changed course without warning. He ghosted through my days, swallowed by guilt and divided loyalties. Even at the hospital, during my cancer treatments, he showed up for Abigail. Cradled her hair. Coaxed her into shifts of comfort. Words meant for a Luna—sweet whispers, promises, devotion—bleeded from him when he touched her.
He didn’t even know I had cancer until now. He refused to listen to anything I say.
I no longer expected anything from him. My heart had locked down, barricaded behind grief and broken vows.
That night, after another grueling session, I stumbled out of the hospital wing. My bones ached as if rebelling against my weak body. The initial treatment was moving too quickly—my strength draining like grains of sand through desperate claws.
I shouldn’t have come home, but what else was left for me?
My steps were leaden as I climbed the corridor to the Alpha quarters—half of me hoping he wouldn’t be there, half fearing the worst. Then, a soft flicker of light under his door and Abigail’s voice, as clear as moonlight.
“Alpha… may I borrow the River Valley Pack’s Moonstone necklace?” Her tone was as gentle as a begging doe. “You gave it to Lily on your mateship day. I only wish—”
I pressed myself against the wall, breath catching.
The Moonstone—the heirloom of the River Valley Pack, passed from Luna to Luna for centuries. Hudson pinned it around my neck under the full moon. He called it a promise. A bond. A declaration of forever.
And now he was about to hand it to Abigail.
“Of course, darling, it suits you. Until the pup is born,” he said, voice soft. He leaned in and kissed her cheek.
A sharp pain lanced through me—both physical and emotional—like a stake driven into my chest.
Then I heard him whisper, “I’ll ask Lily. I’ll tell her it’s just temporary.”
The moment he said that—I knew it was over. But amidst that, out eyes met, and yet, I didn’t care anymore.
I stumbled backward and turned away, tears stinging. The hallway spun, my legs threatening to give out. My wolf whimpered beneath my ribs, enraged and abandoned.
Then I felt strong arms loop around me, pulling me into his quarters.
Lips hovering close. His eyes flickered between concern and guilt.
“Lily—did you hear—” he started, voice sheepish.
“Just give it to her,” I said, cutting him off. “Give her the necklace. She can wear it as long as you want.”
His eyes widened. “You… you’re okay with this?”
I nodded slowly. “Yes.”
He exhaled, relief flooding his features. “Thank you. I knew you’d understand.”
He took my hand in his—softly—like he wanted to promise me something. But I knew better.
My gaze wandered to the small table. The sealed papers of mateship and Luna termination were already opened—waiting for his signature.
I wasn’t fool enough to believe he’d notice.
He squeezed my hand and murmured, “I promise. Once the pup is born—”
I raised a hand. “I don’t care if she never gives it back. Just sign this.”
He paused. The otherside of him flickered.
“Alright.” He hesitated. “You… you don’t want anything else?”
I pressed the papers into his hand. “No, so just sign this.”
He took them, scrolling his eyes down, but never read a word. He signed it without even knowing the context of the paper. How foolish, but it was for the best.
He sighed. “You’re doing this for leverage… I understand.” He searched my face. “But your place in the pack, in my heart? It’s still safe.”
I smiled coldly. I knew those were empty promises again.
Took a deep breath. Then gently undid the clasp of the Moonstone necklace around my throat.
He blinked.
I handed it to him without a tremor.
He caught it and brushed a finger along the stone. “You’re sure?”
“Yeah,” I said. “If she wants, she can keep that forever.”
He paused, longing gleaming in his eyes.
Then—he wrapped me in an embrace.
My body locked up, but my wolf stayed silent. I didn’t struggle.
I pulled away gently and stepped back.
“Don’t worry,” I whispered. “Just be with her.”
He stepped into her room, without a backward glance.
I lingered in the doorway for a heartbeat. Heard Abigail’s giddy laughter as the necklace was clasped around her.
Then I shut the door behind me. Later, in the cold early hours, I sat by the window in the old guestroom. My body trembled not from fear, but from the ache of my own survival.
My wolf whimpered, soft—afraid and betrayed—but I held her, cradling her inside me, soothing her pain.
“It’s okay,” I breathed. “We’re leaving. We’ll be safe.”
A gentle kick, like a rebuke or a comfort.
I wrapped both arms around my belly—my pup was the only one I needed now.
“I’ll protect you,” I whispered. “No more pain.”
I stayed like that until the moon slipped behind the clouds and my breath finally calmed.
Tomorrow, I would leave. And this time, I wouldn’t hesitate.
I encircled the last day in my calendar. Goodbye, Alpha.
