Lyanna’s POV
I thought I was finally free.
But I had not even reached the pack gates when two warriors stepped out from the shadows. Before I could react, they seized my arms as though I were some rogue wolf trying to flee.
“We must take you back, Luna,” one of them said grimly through the mindlink. “Alpha Draven Blackmark needs your blood.”
My stomach dropped.
“What?” I struggled against their grip, panic rising fast. “No—let me go!”
I fought on instinct, though I was too weak to overpower them. My heart pounded wildly, as if my wolf already sensed the horror waiting for me.
“Why does he need my blood?” My voice cracked. “Why is he doing this?”
Neither warrior answered.
They simply dragged me back inside the pack house.
---
The next thing I knew, I was bound to a healer’s chair in the pack infirmary. Cold silver restraints dug into my wrists. My body felt exposed, helpless.
Then I saw him.
Draven.
Standing there as though he were not about to destroy what remained of me.
“You brought me back for this?” I let out a bitter laugh. “To drain my blood?”
He did not even flinch.
“Stop being dramatic,” he said coldly. “You are helping. At least make yourself useful.”
“Useful?” My throat tightened painfully. “So that is all I am to you now? A blood source for your mistress?”
“You always make everything emotional,” he said flatly. “It is tiresome.”
I let out a trembling breath.
“Says the man using his mate’s blood to save another she-wolf.”
His jaw tightened. He stepped forward and gripped my chin, forcing me to look at him.
“Watch your words.”
“Or what?” I snapped, tears burning in my eyes. “You will discard me the way you already have?”
For the briefest moment, something flickered in his eyes.
Then it vanished.
“Begin,” he ordered.
The healer obeyed.
The hollow needle pierced my skin.
Pain shot through my arm—deep, sharp, unnatural—as my blood was drawn from my body. I bit down on my lip to stop myself from crying out. I would not let him see me break.
But my body trembled anyway.
“Alpha,” the healer said nervously, “she is already weakened. If we take more—”
“She will survive,” Draven said without hesitation. “She always does.”
She always does.
As though I were not a living soul.
As though I were only something to be used until there was nothing left.
The room swayed. Darkness blurred the edges of my vision.
Then I heard it—
A cough from the next chamber.
Soft.
Weak.
Deliberate.
“Natalie needs more,” Draven said immediately.
I froze.
“You cannot be serious.”
He did not even turn toward me.
“She needs it.”
That was all.
That was my worth.
A bitter laugh escaped me, though tears were already falling.
“So I am nothing but spare blood to you now?”
Another cough sounded, louder this time.
“Draven…” Natalie called weakly from the next room.
And just like that, he turned away.
He left me there—
Bound to the chair.
Half-drained.
Barely conscious.
While he went to her.
I stared up at the stone ceiling, swallowing the scream clawing its way up my throat.
“Continue,” he called over his shoulder. “Take more.”
The healer hesitated.
“Alpha… if we continue, she may not survive.”
“I said continue.”
Those words hurt more than the needle.
I turned my head weakly, barely able to speak.
“You are killing me for her.”
He glanced back once.
Cold.
Detached.
“She needs it more than you do.”
Something inside me shattered.
Not loudly.
Not violently.
Just completely.
---
When I woke again, I was no longer in the healer’s chair.
I lay on a narrow cot in the infirmary, covered with a thin blanket. My body felt heavy, as though it no longer belonged to me.
Healer Rowan sat beside me, his face pale and drawn.
“You are stable,” he said quietly. “For now.”
“For now?” My voice came out rough. “That does not sound comforting.”
He did not answer.
Fear twisted sharply in my chest.
“What is it?” I whispered.
He hesitated far too long.
Then he lowered his gaze.
“There was… a complication.”
My hand moved instinctively to my stomach.
And before he spoke, I already knew.
“I am sorry,” Rowan said softly. “The pup did not survive.”
The world stopped.
“No,” I whispered immediately. “No… that cannot be true.”
My breath hitched. My hands shook violently as I tried to sit up, but my body was too weak.
“No,” I said again, louder. “You are wrong.”
But Rowan said nothing.
That silence confirmed everything.
Something inside me broke beyond repair.
I threw off the blanket and stumbled from the cot, nearly collapsing as I reached the infirmary door.
“Draven!”
My scream tore through the hallway.
“Draven, you killed our pup!”
My voice echoed through the stone corridors.
But he was not there.
Of course he was not.
A hollow laugh escaped me—sharp, broken, empty.
He was with her.
Still choosing her.
Even after killing the child we had created beneath the Moon Goddess’s blessing.
My knees gave out beneath me.
I collapsed to the floor, but I felt nothing.
“I will make him pay,” I whispered, trembling violently. “I swear it.”
Rowan knelt beside me, trying to steady my shoulders.
“You need to rest.”
I shoved him away.
“Do not touch me.”
My voice cracked on the last word.
Then everything inside me fell silent.
Not my grief.
Not my pain.
But something deeper.
Something colder.
I slowly lifted my head and looked at Rowan.
My voice was barely steady.
“Prepare the separation rites,” I said. “And gather every record of what happened here.”
He stared at me in stunned silence.
Then I said, quieter but firmer—
“I am done being his mate.”
