Mira felt the matebond tug before the call came.

It wasn’t pain at first—pain came later. What hit her was pressure, it was crushing and sudden, like a fist tightening around her heart. Her breathing came out ragged, her hands wrapping around her abdomen.

Adrian.

Her wolf surged, frantic and worried, pacing beneath her skin.

Then the phone rang.

By the time Mira reached the hospital, she could feel his pain like it was hers.

The emergency ward reeked of blood and antiseptic. Wolves moved fast through the corridor, doctors and pack medics barking orders as a stretcher burst through the doors.

Mira stopped walking.

Adrian Vale—Alpha of the Silver Ridge Pack—lay strapped to the stretcher, his broad body smeared in red, the white sheets beneath him ruined. Drops of blood trailed behind him, a reminder of how close she had come to losing him.

A woman walked beside the stretcher.

She was small, almost human like, her scent sharp with fear and the salty sting of tears. The tears streamed down her face as she clutched Adrian’s hand with both of hers, fingers tight like she was afraid he’d vanish if she let go.

“I’m sorry,” she cried. “This is my fault. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

Adrian turned his head.

Even injured, even pale, his presence filled the hallway. Alpha power rolled off him in controlled waves, instinctively commanding space. His grip tightened—not gentle, not comforting. Possessive.

“Enough,” he said hoarsely.

The command was clear.

The woman stilled instantly.

He shifted his hand and pressed something into her palm.

It was a white flower.

Its petals were crushed, stained dark with blood—his blood.

“Keep it,” Adrian said. “I said I would get it for you.”

The bond pulsed.

Three steps away, Mira stood frozen.

She was his Luna. His mate. Chosen by the Moon Goddess herself. Yet, she had never seen him look at her the way he looked at that woman—not openly, not without restraint.

Her wolf whimpered, low and wounded. She’d thought his lack of affection was tied to his title but this woman had proved otherwise.

“Luna Mira,” an omega bowed sharply in front of her, fear rolling off him in waves. “You’re here.”

Mira nodded once. She couldn’t speak yet—if she did, she’d lose the last bit of control she had.

Adrian was wheeled toward the operating room. As he passed, his gaze flicked to her for the briefest second.

She’d expected to see guilt, to see apology but there was none. Just that same calculation he always gave her.

The doors slammed shut.

“What happened?” Mira asked quietly. She felt a mixture of anger and pain.

The omega hesitated. Smart.

“Tell me,” she repeated. Her voice was calm, too calm.

Thirty minutes earlier, she’d been at home when the matebond had cracked violently, pain seeping through so fast she’d dropped to her knees. Alphas didn’t get hurt easily. For the bond to react that way…

“He was supposed to be at the pack offices,” she continued. “So explain why my Mate fell off a cliff.”

The omega opened his mouth but before he could respond —

“I did.” The woman stepped forward.

She lowered her head, her shoulders curling inward in a picture of submission. Her eyes were red from crying, her gaze fixed on the ground. She almost looked guilty.

Almost.

“I’m sorry, Luna,” her voice cracked. “I never meant for this to happen.”

Mira looked at her, really looked—her blue eyes puffy from crying, her blonde her disheveled from running her hand through it. She looked pitiful.

Anger surged through Mira, she reached out and took the woman—Ivy—by the collar.

The hallway went silent.

Wolves froze mid-step. Omegas bowed lower. Power rippled outward as Mira’s wolf pushed against her skin, furious and demanding blood.

“Do not speak unless I ask you to,” Mira hissed, her voice low and even. “You are under Alpha authority.”

Ivy’s breath hitched.

“Luna!” the omega rushed forward. “Please—”

“Explain,” Mira ordered.

“Today was her birthday,” the omega said quickly. “Alpha Adrian went to Willows Ridge. There’s a frost lotus that grows near the cliffs. He said he owed her protection and a promise. There was loose stone.”

Mira released Ivy slowly, her gaze darting to the flower still clutched in the woman’s shaking hands.

Her mate had nearly died for a promise.

This wasn’t new.

Ivy had arrived three months ago—carried into the pack under Adrian’s protection after the death of Alpha Draven of Moonvile Pack. Draven’s last wish had been for Adrian to take care of his mate Ivy.

Adrian hadn’t hesitated, he’d claimed responsibility for her publicly. No one questioned an Alpha’s claim.

Since then, everything had changed.

He’d broken a visiting Beta’s jaw for lingering too long near her.

He’d confined an omega for spilling a drink on her dress.

He’d skipped an Alpha summit—an insult no dominant leader should afford—because Ivy wasn’t permitted entry.

Things he had never done for Mira. Things she thought were not possible until this woman showed up.

“I’m sorry,” Ivy whispered. “I only mentioned the flower. I didn’t think he would—”

Mira struck her.

The sound echoed sharp and loud down the corridor.

Ivy stumbled back, her hand flying to her cheek, eyes wide in shock.

“You don’t get to decide what my Mate risks his life for,” Mira said coldly. “And you don’t get to wear his blood like a gift.”

She knocked the flower from Ivy’s hand. It hit the floor and shattered.

Before anyone could react, the operating room doors opened.

“The Alpha will live,” the doctor announced. “He broke his fall. Fractured leg, superficial injuries. He’ll recover.”

Relief hit Mira hard and traitorous. Despite everything he’d done, despite the humiliation. She still cared for her mate.

She followed the doctor to his office to finalize documents.

An hour later, she stood outside his room. Listening to the whispers in the hallway.

“They say he nearly died for her.”

“I heard she was his first love before his mate came along.”

Mira’s chest tightened but she didn’t move. She focused instead on the voices inside the room—Adrian was awake.

Ivy sat beside the bed, crying softly.

“The flower broke,” she whispered.

“I’ll get another,” Adrian said. His voice was low, firm. A promise. “When I’m healed.”

Mira stepped inside, her eyes glinting with unshed tears.

Adrian’s gaze snapped to her.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he said. There was no greeting, no concern, just… coldness.

“She shouldn’t be here.” Mira countered. “I’m your Luna.”

His jaw tightened. “She’s under my protection.”

Something inside Mira finally stilled.

“You were injured,” she said quietly.

“I survived.”

“You nearly died.”

“That was my choice.”

She nodded once, ignoring the pain those words caused her. She looked away, trying to control her breathing.

She won’t cry, not in front of them. She won’t give them that satisfaction.

“Then explain it to the council.” Her voice cracked.

“I already handled it,” Adrian said. “They won’t know.”

He was protecting Ivy. Again.

“You should go,” he added. “Ivy will stay.” His tone was final, dismissal.

Mira didn’t argue, she couldn’t. She turned and walked out.

The moment she got home, she reached for her phone, driven by one goal.

“Find out everything about Ivy,” she ordered calmly. “Who she was to my mate before me.”

She ended the call and sat in silence, replaying the hospital scene over and over again, replaying his words over and over again.

Her mate had chosen another woman over her.

She remembered the way he’d looked at Ivy, the softness in his gaze. Her lips wobbled.

He was her mate, the one chosen for her by the moon goddess yet he’d—

A sob slipped out, raw and broken. It hurt, it hurt too much. She laid on her side, clutching her abdomen, tears soaking her hair.

She didn’t know how much more she could take, didn’t know how much her wolf could take.