Ava POV
I forced myself to walk out of the banquet hall, the echo of Ethan's cruel laughter fading behind me. The night air was cool, a welcome relief from the suffocating heat and humidity of the Pack House.
Chloe had shadowed me to the door.
"Now you know who the real Luna is," she sneered as I passed, her voice dripping with venom.
I didn't stop. I didn't give her the satisfaction of a glance.
I walked until my leg throbbed, finding myself at the base of the Laurel tree. The moonlight filtered through the branches, illuminating the old carvings on the bark. Our names. Our promises.
I sat on the gnarled roots, the damp earth seeping into my dress. I needed to leave. Tonight. I couldn't stay in a place where my existence was treated as an insult.
Husky voices drifted up the hill. I stiffened, pressing myself behind the thick trunk of the tree to merge with the shadows.
"Alpha, are you sure about this?"
It was Marcus, Ethan’s Beta.
"She's a Fated Mate, Ethan," Marcus continued, his voice low and laced with worry. "The Moon Goddess doesn't make mistakes. Rejecting her... mocking her... it brings bad luck."
"Fated Mate?" Ethan scoffed. The sound was ugly. "She's boring, Marcus. She's a dusty historian. She's weak. Chloe has fire. Chloe has connections."
"But she rejected you," Marcus said. "It's done."
"It's not done until I say it's done," Ethan countered. I could hear the arrogance in his smile. "I'm just teaching her a lesson. She thinks she can walk away? She thinks she can survive without me?"
My breath hitched in my throat.
"What do you mean?" Marcus asked.
"I'm going to break her," Ethan said casually, as if discussing the weather. "I'll let the pack humiliate her. I'll cut off her stipend. I'll make sure no other pack will take her in. When she's starving and alone, begging on her knees in the dirt, I'll 'forgive' her."
He paused, letting the cruelty hang in the air.
"I'll take her back as a mistress. She'll be so grateful she'll never disobey me again."
I clamped a hand over my mouth to stop the scream rising in my throat.
He didn't just want to reject me. He wanted to enslave me. He wanted to destroy my spirit so he could rebuild me as a toy.
"That's... twisted, Alpha," Marcus muttered.
"It's leadership," Ethan corrected. "Control."
They walked away, their footsteps fading into the night.
I sat there, frozen. The ice wall around my heart didn't melt; it shattered, leaving behind something sharper. A cold, hard diamond formed under the pressure of his betrayal.
I had loved a monster.
I stood up. My sadness was gone. In its place was a clarity so sharp it could cut glass.
I went back to my cabin. I didn't pack clothes. I didn't pack shoes. I went straight to the loose floorboard under my bed. I pried it open and pulled out a small velvet box.
Inside was my official badge—the Pack Historian insignia. It was solid silver, inlaid with moonstone. It was the only thing of value I owned that didn't come from him. It was proof of my service, my skills. It was my passport to a new life.
I held it to my chest, feeling the cool metal against my skin.
The door banged open.
Ethan stumbled in. He smelled of whiskey and Chloe's cloying perfume. His eyes were bloodshot.
"Going somewhere?" he slurred.
He saw the badge in my hand. His eyes narrowed.
"That belongs to the Pack," he growled, stepping forward. "Give it to me."
"I earned this," I said, stepping back. "It's mine."
"Everything you have is mine!" he shouted. "Your home, your job, your body! You think you can just reject me and leave? You think you're free?"
He lunged for me.
I dodged, adrenaline flooding my system. I wasn't a warrior, but I was fast.
"You don't own me, Ethan!" I yelled. "Not anymore!"
He grabbed my wrist, his grip bruising. "I am your Alpha! You will submit!"
He used the Alpha Command. The pressure slammed into me like a physical weight, forcing my knees to bend. My wolf whined in pain, struggling against the crushing order.
*No,* I told her. *We do not kneel.*
I looked him in the eye, fighting the command with every ounce of willpower I had, my bones shaking with the effort.
"You are not my Alpha," I gritted out through clenched teeth. "And I am not your victim."
