Chapter 1Every single full moon, my mate would team up with his "girl–bro" for her sick joke: a fake mating ceremony with me.
Last year, I'd let him slip the ceremonial silver ring on my finger, heart pounding, when the damn thing clamped down tight. I screamed as it burned my skin, but Knox and Vixen just doubled over laughing, totally ignoring the fact that I was seconds away from serious silver burns.
To make up for it, Knox promised he'd mate with me for real this year. So when he texted me frantically to meet him at our old spot, I didn't think twice. I braided my hair, did my nails, spent hours getting ready in my nicest dress. I even drafted our mating announcement.
But when I walked through the door, grinning like an idiot, someone dumped a bucket of ice-cold water right over my head. The private room exploded with Vixen's obnoxious laughter.
"Told you she'd show up, Knox! You owe me!"
Knox wiped water from my face, voice all sweet as usual. "You look gorgeous—what a waste of a pretty outfit. The guys and I bet on whether I could get you here. I said you wouldn't come—if I win, we mate tomorrow, if I lose, maybe next year. Sorry, but since you showed up, no ceremony this month."
I just stared at him. "So you remember what tomorrow is?"
He laughed it off. "Of course—our six-year anniversary. How could I forget?"
Standing there soaked and dripping, I felt completely empty inside. Our anniversary meant less than their stupid pranks. Just like I meant less than his precious pack sister.
I pulled off the simple promise ring we'd been wearing for six years.
"We're done."
The sound of my ring hitting the floor shut everyone up real quick.
Knox scowled. "Quit being so dramatic. It's just water—you'll dry off. You know Vixen used to pull way worse stuff. She's been nice to you. I worked hard to get you here—don't make me look like a buzzkill in front of everyone."
Vixen's bottom lip started quivering. "Ember, it's just a joke! If you really hate it, we'll stop. Why are you talking about breaking up? I told you she can't take a joke, Knox. Look what you started."
She flopped down on the couch with a huff. All eyes turned cold on me—she was the only girl in their friend group, their little princess. When she got upset, everyone rushed to make her feel better. Knox was no different.
First time we met: Vixen threw a party with Truth or Dare. Everyone else got silly dares, but mine? Make out with a stranger. When I said that was way over the line, Vixen teared up and ran off. Everyone chased after her—Knox included. My welcome party ended with me sitting alone.
Knox never brought it up, but after that night, he never invited me anywhere unless Vixen said it was okay.
Now he was glaring at me. "Ember, apologize to Vixen."
Before, I would've swallowed my pride to fit in, to keep him from looking bad in front of his buddies. I might've even apologized before he had to ask. But now? My feelings mattered less than Vixen's mood swings.
I finally got it—our relationship had never been more important than his friendship with his pack sister.
I grabbed my coat and purse—the one I'd bought special to meet his parents—and stared down their judgmental looks. "Knox, we're over. For real."
I wobbled a bit in my heels as I walked out. Right as the door closed behind me, I caught Vixen's voice, muffled but clear. "You gonna chase after your little puppy?"
Knox's laugh was cold and mean. "She's just throwing a tantrum. If I run after her now, what does that say? Don't worry. She's got nowhere else to go. She'll come crawling back—way easier than dealing with you."
My heart felt like it got ripped in half, his words cutting me like ice.
Chapter 2
Six years ago, right in this clearing, Knox had bared his soul to me, swearing I was his one true mate, now and forever. Getting me to accept him hadn't been easy.
At fifteen, my parents died in a rogue attack, and I got shuffled between different packs. Nobody really wanted the orphaned omega who couldn't shift properly. I fought against bonding, refused to join any pack permanently, turned Knox down five times.
The last time: I'd been cornered by rogues while living alone in neutral territory. He'd shown up just in time, fighting them off—but got torn up pretty bad in the process, spending days recovering.
After the pack healer patched him up, his eyes were all glassy with pain. "Ember, why are you so damn stubborn? Can't you just let me take care of you?"
Something in me just broke. I thought—maybe being with someone strong, someone who actually gave a shit, wouldn't be so bad.
That night, he'd brought me here to officially ask me to be his mate. When I said yes, this usually controlled guy picked me up and spun me around like an idiot. We ended up falling over, laughing and dizzy, his arms wrapped tight around me.
We sat on the old stone steps, looking up at the full moon. He promised that with him, I'd never be alone again. Never abandoned.
But now, all those old scars I'd let him see, the ones that were barely healed, felt ripped wide open—and he was the one holding the claws.
A bitter laugh came out of me as I pulled up that transfer request I'd been sitting on for five days. Typing two words was easier than I thought: "I accept."
I looked up at the moon, half-hidden by clouds.
Knox, I was never easy to handle. And now, I don't need you to try.
My transport was scheduled for tomorrow afternoon—didn't have much time.
Back at our den, I washed the water out of my hair and threw my stuff in bags. There wasn't much of me in this place anyway. Packing up my life took maybe an hour. Everything fit in two duffel bags.
At 3 a.m., I'd called for a ride and was heading out when I ran straight into Knox coming home from his night out. He was basically carrying a completely wasted Vixen, dumping her on the couch before shoving a bottle of hangover remedy at me without even looking up.
"You're awake. Perfect. She's hammered. Make her some of that detox tea or she'll be a nightmare all night."
I just stood there. When we'd first moved in together, he'd come home drunk off his ass, throwing up everywhere. I'd felt so bad for him, getting up at midnight to make some kind of healing brew. But I'd screwed it up—the pot cracked, boiling liquid splashing all over my arms.
He'd sobered up real quick seeing my burns, looking guilty as hell. After that, he'd banned me from making anything—even when he was sick and wanted homemade noodles, he'd order stuff from the pack kitchen instead.
For years, I never touched anything in that area. He'd even put up a note: "Ember—hands off the brewing station."
A cold laugh slipped out. I grabbed the note and tossed it in the trash.
"Not happening," I said, my voice dead flat. "If she needs something, order it yourself."
But his hand shot out, fingers wrapping around my wrist like a trap. He yanked me back and pinned me against the door, his whole body blocking me in.
"Alright, Ember, cut the crap," he said, clearly running out of patience. "Being mad is one thing, but packing? Come on. It was just a prank. A stupid full moon tradition. Stop being so dramatic."
"I know you want us to officially mate, and I want that too. Next month, I promise we'll do the ceremony. Deal?"
His breath still reeked of alcohol as it hit my face. But this time, his words just bounced right off me.
I shoved him back and smacked him across the face. "Knox, I meant every word. We're done. I'm never mating with you!"
Chapter 3
That slap sobered him up real quick—and even woke Vixen from her drunken mess on the couch.
She stumbled toward me, reeking like a brewery, and took a wild swing at my face.
SLAP!
"Who the hell do you think you are? Nobody touches Knox! So you wanna break your bond? Whatever! There are plenty of better she-wolves out there... you're nothing special!"
Fire shot across my cheek where she hit me.
Angry tears stung my eyes. I raised my hand to hit her back, but Knox's fingers clamped around my wrist.
He shoved me backward hard. My spine cracked against the door frame, and white-hot pain exploded through my back.
He stepped in front of Vixen, his face twisted with irritation. "She's drunk off her ass," he snapped. "Don't sink to her level. Just... go for a run and cool off. We'll talk tomorrow when you're not being crazy."
I stared at him like I'd never seen him before.
He looked at me like I was some random pack reject. He didn't even glance my way again, just bent down to comfort Vixen through her drunken breakdown, giving her all the gentle care he used to give me.
I dug my nails into my palms, grabbed my stuff, and got the hell out of there.
I found a motel and finally crashed at sunrise.
When I woke up, my phone was going nuts—pack gossip about full moon pranks, worried messages from other wolves asking why I'd missed the morning hunt, some wondering if I had big news to share.
My chest felt heavy and hollow. I texted back that we'd broken up, feeling drained to my bones.
The messages kept coming: some thought I was pulling a full moon joke, others said it was impossible, telling me not to freak out just because the mating ceremony got postponed.
To everyone else, Knox was steady, reliable, a total catch. But they had no clue what really went on.
On our fourth anniversary, he'd set up fake mating preparations just to mess with me, letting Vixen release a snake in our house while I was getting ready.
On our fifth, he'd used some cursed ring she'd found to "propose," and I ended up at the pack healer's all day, my finger nearly rotting from wolfsbane.
He was dependable, sure—just never for me.
I'd always ignored the warning signs, telling myself he was good to me except when Vixen was around. But now, thinking clearly, I knew even a real mating wouldn't fix what was broken between us.
I let out a bitter laugh and opened the pack network out of habit.
Past all the prank posts, Vixen's photo dump stood out: Knox taking her to hunt together, winning her prizes at the summer games, running through the forest in wolf form. He'd always spent full moons with her first, then remembered our anniversary later—but he'd never done any of that fun stuff with me.
He always said that kind of thing was for "pups playing pretend," a waste of time. "Better to stay in and plan for our future—something that matters," he'd say.
I thought he was being mature, so I buried all my silly romantic dreams. But seeing his genuine smile in those photos, I finally got it: it wasn't the activities that sucked—it was doing them with me that bored him.
The comments were full of "relationship goals," with all their friends hitting like—way more than our mating announcement ever got.
I was about to shut my phone off when Knox texted: "Don't get the wrong idea. I'm just helping her feel better. Come back when you can—she wants to say sorry."
I stared at the screen, thumb hovering over "hell no." Then a delivery alert popped up.
The anniversary gift I'd ordered for him—shipped to our old house, obviously. I looked at the notification.
A clean break. That's what we both needed. And I still had to return his keys anyway. Might as well rip the band-aid off. One last goodbye.
I threw on clothes and drove over. The second I walked through the door, someone dumped a bucket of something nasty all over me, soaking me head to toe.
My face and neck immediately started burning.
"Surprise! Happy full moon!"
