Three years of marriage, and Mira had never imagined that on such a bright, ordinary afternoon, she would feel the violent tearing of the mate-bond.

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 as her knees nearly buckled.

It took less than a second for her to understand. Her Alpha, her husband, Adrian, was in danger.

But how? He was supposed to be in his spacious, sunlit office at the pack house, dealing with pack affairs. There had been no reports of any outside threat. What could have happened?

Her wolf surged within, frantic with worry, straining to take control and rush to their mate’s side. Without a second thought, Mira mind-linked to her husband’s Beta, Mason.

“Luna…” Mason hesitated and that only sharpened the blade of her fear and fury.

“Don’t you dare lie to me. Tell me where Adrian is!”

*

Mira used every ounce of speed she possessed on the drive to the hospital. The closer she got, the more the phantom pain in her own chest intensified. Tears burned behind her eyes. They had only been married for three years. While not all of it had been peaceful or happy, she had never imagined she could lose him this soon.

She all but crashed through the doors of the Emergency Department. The air was thick with the coppery scent of blood and the sharp sting of antiseptic. Pack members moved swiftly through the corridors, doctors and medics barking orders. A gurney was shoved violently through the main doors.

Mira froze.

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.

But he was still breathing. She could still feel the faint, strained thread of their bond. She hadn't lost him yet.

Just as the breath of relief left her lips and she moved to step forward, to take his hand, another figure slipped into the space that should have been hers.

The woman was small, almost fragile-looking, radiating a salty aura of fear and tears. They streamed down her cheeks as she clutched Adrian’s hand in both of hers, her knuckles white as if he might vanish if she let go.

“I’m so sorry,” the woman sobbed. “This is all my fault. I shouldn’t have said those things.”

Adrian turned his head.

Even injured, even pale, his presence still dominated the chaotic hallway. His powerful Alpha energy pulsed around him like a controlled tide, instinctively commanding the space. His fingers tightened around the woman’s, a tenderness in his grip that Mira, in three years of marriage, had never seen directed at herself.

“Don’t cry,” he rasped, his uninjured hand rising to clumsily brush a tear from her cheek. Then he pressed something into her palm. A white flower. Its petals were crushed and stained a deep, ugly shade—his blood. He seemed not to notice or care.

“Take it,” Adrian said, his voice rough but soft. “I know you always wanted one. It’s your birthday. You deserve every happiness.”

A look passed between them—a silent, intimate current that shut out the world.

Three steps away, Mira stood utterly still, the color draining from her face.

Her husband had nearly died, and his concern was for another woman’s happiness?

What the hell of joke was the universe playing on her? Had she woken up wrong and stumbled into some parallel reality that wasn’t hers?

Mira squeezed her eyes shut, then opened them. The scene before her remained unchanged. The two were still lost in their own world, their intense gaze shutting out everything else.

Her wolf let out a low, wounded whimper within her. The initial shock and absurdity were rapidly curdling into something darker, something angrier.

She was his LUNA. His MATE. Chosen by the Moon Goddess herself. For three years, they had presented a united, loving front to the pack.

Yet in all those three years, she was certain he had never looked at her like that.

She had told herself his coldness was just part of being an Alpha, a burden of his title. But the scene before her was proof it wasn't.

"Luna Mira," an Omega bowed sharply before her, a wave of fearful respect preceding him. "You're here."

Mira gave a single, stiff nod. She couldn't speak yet—if she opened her mouth, she might shatter the last vestiges of her control.

Adrian was being wheeled towards the operating room. As he passed her, his gaze flickered over her.

She had expected to see guilt. An apology. She saw nothing. Only his customary, impenetrable ice.

The doors swung shut behind him with a final, damning thud.

"What happened?" Mira asked, her voice dangerously soft. She felt fury and agony twisting together inside her.

The Omega hesitated. Smart.

"Tell me," she repeated. Her tone was calm. Too calm.

Alpha werewolves weren't easily injured, but the mate-bond's reaction didn't lie… Adrian had been gravely hurt. She would know why.

The Omega opened his mouth, seeming to search for words.

"It was my fault," the woman from before stepped forward.

She lowered her head, shoulders curling in a show of submission. Her eyes were red-rimmed, her gaze fixed on the floor. She looked almost penitent. Almost.

Mira, of course, recognized her.

Ivy Glass. The woman who had appeared at her husband's side three months ago. The widow of Adrian's deceased friend, Alpha Draven of the Moonvile Pack.

In accordance with Draven's dying wish, Adrian had publicly and unequivocally declared his responsibility for Ivy's welfare.

No one questioned an Alpha's vow. Even Mira herself had initially felt sympathy for the poor, grief-stricken woman.

But from the moment Ivy arrived, the fragile peace of Mira and Adrian's marriage had shattered.

He had broken a Beta's jaw for lingering too close to Ivy.

He had confined an Omega to the cells for spilling a drink on her gown.

He had missed an Alpha Summit—an unthinkable lapse for any strong leader—because Ivy hadn't been granted entry.

Things he had never done for Mira. Before Ivy, Mira would have thought such actions beneath him.

Yet for Ivy, he did them all.

And today, he had nearly gotten himself killed to… to make her “smile”. So what did that make her, his wife? What did their bond even mean?

"I'm sorry, Luna," Ivy quivered, seemingly oblivious to the storm of fury rolling off Mira. "I never meant for this to happen. I only mentioned in passing…"

"Shut up!" Mira's hand shot out, gripping the collar of Ivy's dress.

The hallway fell utterly still.

Pack members froze. Omegas bowed their heads lower. A wave of powerful, oppressive force radiated outwards—Mira's wolf, surging beneath her skin, furious and blood-hungry.

"You do not speak unless I permit it," Mira hissed, her voice low and lethally calm. "You are under the authority of your Alpha and your Luna!"

She made no effort to leash her Luna's aura. Ivy gasped.

"Luna!" The Omega stepped forward. "Please, your temper—"

"Explain," Mira commanded.

"It was Lady Ivy's birthday," the Omega rushed out. "Alpha Adrian took her to Willow Ridge. A frost-lotus grows near the cliffs there… it's said to grant the Goddess's favor to whoever claims it. The Alpha said he owed her his protection. And… a promise. But no one knew the rocks were so loose…"

Mira slowly released Ivy, her gaze dropping to the flower still clutched in the other woman's trembling hand.

A promise? What kind of promise was worth forgetting the wife waiting for him at home? Worth risking his life?

"I'm sorry," Ivy whispered, "I truly only mentioned it in passing, I never thought he would—"

Mira slapped her.

The crack echoed sharply in the silent 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 snarled, her voice colder than winter stone. “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 swung open.

“The Alpha will live,” the doctor announced. “His body cushioned the worst of the fall. A broken leg, mostly superficial lacerations. He will recover.”

Relief washed over Mira, the sensation feeling like a betrayal. Despite everything, despite the humiliation he had wrought upon their bond, she still cared for her mate.

She followed the doctor to his office to complete the final formalities.

An hour later, she stood outside Adrian’s private room, the whispers in the corridor a grating hum against her frayed nerves.

“They say he nearly died for her.”

“I heard she was his first love, before he met his destined mate.”

A tightness seized Mira’s chest, but she didn’t move. She focused on the voices from within the room—Adrian was awake.

Ivy was seated by the bed, weeping softly.

“The flower is ruined,” she murmured.

“I’ll pick you another,” Adrian said. His voice was low, firm, a vow woven into the words. “Once I’ve healed.”

Mira could take no more. She pushed the door open and strode in, her eyes blazing.

Adrian’s gaze snapped to her.

“You shouldn’t be here.” No greeting. No concern. Just… dismissal.

“She shouldn’t be here,” Mira shot back, her voice trembling with suppressed emotion. “I am your Luna.”

His jaw tightened. “She is under my protection.”

The sharp movement tugged at his injuries, a sheen of sweat breaking out on his forehead. The sight of his pain finally snapped something within Mira.

“You’re hurt,” she stated softly, the fight momentarily draining from her.

“I’ll survive.”

“You nearly didn’t.”

“That was my choice.”

“Ah, yes,” she nodded, a bitter smile twisting her lips as she tried to ignore the fresh wound his words carved. She turned her face away, struggling to steady her breathing.

She would not cry. Not here, not in front of them. He did not deserve it. A man who valued neither his own life nor the sacred bond they shared deserved no tears.

“What explanation will you give the Council?” Her voice was thick.

“It’s handled,” Adrian said, his tone final. “They won’t know.”

Protecting Ivy. Again.

“You should go,” he added. “Ivy will stay.” The command in his voice was absolute, brooking no argument.

Mira’s head whipped back towards him, her eyes wide with naked hurt and accusation. But this time, he had already averted his gaze, as if looking at her was a burden too heavy to bear.

“Do not question your Alpha.” He had even anticipated her challenge.

Mira’s nails dug viciously into her palms, her heart tearing itself apart with a pain so visceral it was a wonder he couldn’t feel it from mere steps away. Or perhaps, he simply didn’t care.

Before the tears could betray her, she turned on her heel. “Remember this. It was you who sent me away.” Then she strode from the room, not allowing herself a single backward glance.

Once inside her car, the dam holding back her tears finally broke. She slumped over the steering wheel, shoulders shaking as sobs wracked her body. Behind her closed, blurred eyes, the memory of their wedding day surfaced, vivid and cruel.

“I swear,” he had said, lifting her veil, his eyes holding a softness she hadn't seen since, “I swear I will make you the happiest Luna in this world.”

That had been his promise to her. A promise whose expiration date, it seemed, had arrived in just three short years.

With trembling fingers, Mira unlocked her phone. The screensaver was their wedding photo—her smiling up at him, him looking almost tender. Fresh tears blurred the image.

“Liar,” she whispered, the word a broken sigh.

Her thumb hovered, then pressed down on ‘delete.’ The image vanished, leaving a cold, generic background.

“If you’ve forgotten first,” she said to the empty car, her voice hollow with resolve, “then don’t blame me for taking back my love.”