Aria’s POV
The drive back to the pack house passed in near silence, broken only by the quiet rumble of the engine and the driver’s occasional exhale. But quiet never lasted whenever fate decided to press its weight on me.
The driver’s phone rang. He answered, and before he could lower the volume, Alpha Kael’s voice burst through the speakers, sharp and edged with urgency.
“Where are you now? How long until you return?”
The driver straightened at once. “We’re on the way back, Alpha.”
Kael’s voice sounded tight, almost panicked. “Make it fast. Livia is weak—I need her brought to the healers immediately.”
My body went still, my fingers curling against the fabric of my dress. Of course. Even now, it was her. It was always her.
The driver hesitated, then glanced at me in the mirror. “Alpha… Luna Aria is shaken. She asked to be taken back to the pack house first.”
The title Luna struck like a whip across my skin. I almost laughed at the hollow irony. I had never truly been Luna—not once. There had been no ceremony, no bond, no mark. Just an empty name he forced the servants to use, as if a word could cover the truth. He had once sworn to me—before the Moon Goddess herself—that he would marry me or die trying. And yet here we stood, with nothing but broken promises between us.
His answer came quickly, cold and absolute. “Why are you worrying about an outsider instead of following my order?”
Outsider.
The word tore through me like claws. My chest burned, but when I leaned forward, my voice stayed calm. “Stop the car here,” I said.
The driver looked alarmed. “But—”
“Please. Just stop,” I insisted. I wouldn’t force him to choose between me and his Alpha.
The car slowed, then halted. I stepped out onto the roadside, the night air of Dravenwood wrapping around me in a biting chill. The alcohol I’d had earlier still clouded my head, and my steps felt unsteady as I started down the road. Lanterns flickered faintly ahead, each one too far apart, each step heavier than the last.
And my thoughts drifted back.
The same gathering. The same night. One year ago.
Back then, I had been the one doubled over in pain, my stomach twisting so hard I could barely breathe. Kael had been drunk, his voice slurred, his balance uneven. But the moment he saw me collapse, he didn’t hesitate. He shifted, his wolf lowering so I could hold onto his fur. He carried me all the way to the infirmary, his heartbeat thunderous against me, his scent wrapping me in safety.
That had been then.
Now, on the same night, he left me to walk alone while he hurried to Livia’s side.
By the time I reached the pack house, my hands trembled from the cold. I stood before the door, staring at it as though it no longer belonged to me. My fingers fumbled with the key. Just as I was about to turn it, hands suddenly covered my eyes from behind.
“Can you tell who it is?”
I recognized the scent immediately. My wolf tensed. Alpha Kael.
A scream nearly escaped me, but I forced it down, pulling away from him with a calm I didn’t feel. I no longer played along with his games.
He frowned at my reaction, his gaze sharp even in the dim light. “Mother said you left something here.”
When I looked down, he held out a box—one I knew instantly, its shape too familiar to mistake. My pulse jumped.
I snatched it from him without thinking. “Give that back.”
His eyebrow lifted. “You’re hiding things from me now?”
I pressed the box to my chest. Once, long ago, we had made a promise—no secrets, no lies. For fifteen years we had shared everything. Until Livia came. Until every vow he made turned to dust.
“It isn’t anything you need to know,” I said softly. “There’s no reason to explain it to you.”
His expression darkened. He reached for it again. “No reason? Did some man give you this? Is that why you’re keeping it from me?”
I turned away, holding it tighter. He let out a low chuckle, as if the moment reminded him of the past—of our childish games, our playful struggles over small trinkets that always ended in laughter.
But I didn’t laugh. My throat tightened, and tears spilled before I could stop them.
He paused. “You’re crying? Just because you won’t tell me what’s inside?”
I shook my head, words trapped in my chest. I wasn’t crying over the box. I was crying because he had reduced me to this—because the man who once carried me to safety now placed another woman above me without hesitation.
For a moment, I almost gave in. Almost handed it over, thinking that if he saw what was inside, he might at least return it gently. But then her name filled the silence again.
Kael’s phone lit up. Livia.
The call rang once. Twice. Again and again, relentless.
Kael’s gaze flickered, his body tensing.
Without thinking, I caught his arm, stopping him. The movement surprised even me. His eyes widened slightly, a flicker of something like hope passing through them—as if my touch still meant something. But the phone kept vibrating, insistent and urgent.
He sighed heavily. “I’m worried. She wouldn’t keep calling unless it was serious.”
Of course.
My hand dropped away. “Just give it to me,” I whispered.
For a moment he hesitated, caught between the two of us. Then he pushed the box back into my hands with little care.
It slipped.
The lid cracked open as it hit the ground, and a single sheet of paper fluttered out, settling at my feet.
I bent down, breath catching the moment I saw it.
The engagement papers.
The one document that could end everything—cleanly, legally, finally.
Kael barely spared it a glance before looking away. His phone rang again. This time he answered, his voice softening instantly as he spoke Livia’s name. Then he turned and walked off, not once looking back.
I stood there alone in the cold night, clutching the paper to my chest. My tears blurred the ink, but I could still read every word.
This was the end.
