Chapter 1I was eighteen when Alpha Damon Thornridge marked me.
He was twenty-five-an Alpha in his prime. Already everything I thought I wanted.
We fucked in his truck under a full moon, and I kept saying I love you like some lovesick fool while he buried himself deep inside.
When he came, he bit down on my neck and muttered.
"Fuck... You’ve got me. Again."
Should’ve been a red flag.
I was too far gone to ask what he meant by again.
After that, we were mated. Bonded. I became Luna of Thornridge Pack at nineteen, and for a decade, I played the part perfectly.
Damon was good to me. Protective. Possessive in that Alpha way that made my wolf preen. His pack treated me like I belonged.
I thought I had everything.
Then I broke into his office looking for our anniversary gift—something I knew he'd hidden—and found a locked box instead.
Inside was a photo of a female wolf who would have been my twin. Same hair. Same build. Same goddamn smile.
So that was it. I was just a fucking substitute. A placeholder.
I didn't confront him. Didn't cry.
I swallowed it all down.
The next morning, I just went to the pack hospital and terminated the pup we had been expecting.
Then I packed a single bag and booked a red-eye out of Thornridge land.
The courier arrived at sunset.
I was still staring at them—Mate Bond Dissolution Agreement—when I heard Damon's car pull into the driveway.
Shit.
I shoved the papers under a couch pillow just as the door opened.
Damon stepped inside, bringing the smell of pine and cold wind with him. His Alpha presence hitting me like a wall. My wolf whined instinctively, and I hated her for it.
He didn't say anything. Just crossed the room in three strides and wrapped his arms around me from behind.
"Miss me?" His voice was low, tired. He pressed his face into my neck, right over the mark he'd left a decade ago. His hand slid to my stomach. "How's our little one?"
I went rigid.
There is no little one.
I forced myself to breathe. To pull away gently, like nothing was wrong.
"You said you'd bring me something," I said, turning to face him. "Where's my gift?"
His expression flickered. Just for a second. "I—shit, babe, I'm sorry. It slipped my mind."
I smiled. It felt like glass in my mouth.
"It's fine."
It wasn't fine.
He hadn't been in Grayfield on pack business. He'd been with her. His precious first love. Scarlett Ravenwood. The woman from the photograph. The Omega who couldn't stop sending me pictures of them together—just to make sure I knew.
Ninety-nine photos in total.
I'd counted.
I pulled the agreement out from the cushions, folded it so only the signature line showed, and held it out.
"Damon Thornridge."
His head snapped up. I never used his full name unless I was pissed.
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing. I just need you to sign this."
He frowned, but he took the pen. He scrawled his name across the bottom without even looking.
I stared at the signature.
It felt surreal.
"You didn't even read it," I said quietly.
He shrugged, grinning. "Don't need to. If it's from you, I trust it."
"What if I was signing away your pack? Your assets?"
"Then I'd deal." He reached out to tuck my hair behind my ear. "As long as I've got you, nothing else matters."
I jerked my head away.
His hand froze mid-air.
"Isla—"
His phone rang.
Not the sharp, urgent howl of a pack emergency.
This was something else. This was different. High-pitched. Cutesy.
"Alpha, pick up... Alpha, pick uuuup..."
He grabbed for it immediately, fumbling to silence it, but I still saw the name on the screen.
Scar.
"That's not—" He cleared his throat. "It's a client. She's fucking persistent, okay? I didn't set that ringtone, I swear."
I said nothing.
"Come on," he said, grabbing my wrist. "I made us a reservation. Let's go."
His phone buzzed again. A text this time.
His whole body went tense.
He let go of my wrist.
"There's an emergency," he said, already heading for the door. "I have to go. I'll be back late."
He was halfway out the door when he stopped, glancing back. "Wait for me, okay?"
Then he was gone.
I stood there for a long moment, staring at the empty doorway.
Then the cramping started.
It came fast. Brutal. Like something inside me was tearing itself apart.
I collapsed onto the floor, curling into myself, gasping through the pain. My vision blurring with tears.
I'm sorry, baby. I thought. I'm so sorry.
But bringing a kid into this—into his lies, into a world where it wasn't even wanted by its own father—that would've been the real crime.
Wouldn't it?
Chapter 2
The call came at eleven-thirteen.
I'd been half-asleep on the couch, when my phone lit up with an unknow number.
But I recognized it.
Scarlett.
Why the hell is she calling me?
Shouldn't she be busy fucking my mate right now?
I almost didn't answer. Almost let it go to voicemail.
But something made me pick up.
"Hello?"
No response. Just noise. Loud music. Laughter.
I was about to hang up when her voice cut through.
"Hey, Luna." She dragged the title out like it was a joke. "Wanna hear what your mate really thinks about you?"
My stomach dropped.
"He's telling everyone about you right now. Thought you might wanna hear it yourself." She paused. "I'll text you the address."
The line went dead.
I sat there, staring at my phone, my hands shaking so hard I almost dropped it.
He wouldn't.
But the text came through.
Apex Lounge. Private Room 7.
The pack's elite lounge. Private. Exclusive.
I should've stayed home. Should've let it go.
But I didn't.
The pack club was packed. Music thumping. Bodies pressed together.
I found Room 7 at the end of a long hallway.
Through the frosted glass door, I could hear voices. Laughter.
I pushed the door open just enough to see inside.
Damon was in the center of the room, surrounded by his inner circle. And Scarlett was right next to him, sitting close enough that their thighs were touching.
They were playing some kind of drinking game. A flirtatious challenge popular in the pack, maybe. Something stupid.
Scarlett leaned in, whispering something in his ear, and he laughed before grabbing the back of her neck and pulling her into a kiss.
Not a quick peck.
A full, possessive, claiming kiss.
The room erupted. Whistles. Howls. Someone popped a bottle of moonlight wine.
I felt like I was going to throw up.
I turned to leave—
"Yo, Damon!" One of his friend, a loud-mouthed Alpha named Garrett, shouted over the noise. "What're you gonna do about that Beta you've got at home?"
I froze.
"Now that Scar's back, you still planning to keep her around?"
The room went quiet.
I held my breath.
Damon leaned back in his seat, lighting a cigarette. He took a long drag, exhaling slowly.
"She's pregnant," he said. Calm. Matter-of-fact.
"The kid's important. Solidifies my claim to the pack. Once she has it—"
The rest was drowned out by more cheering.
But I'd heard enough.
My legs gave out.
I caught myself against the wall, gasping, my chest so tight I thought my ribs might crack.
Once she has it.
That's all I was to him.
A fucking incubator.
I stumbled toward the bathroom, barely making it to the sink before I started retching.
Nothing came up. Just bile and rage.
I splashed cold water on my face, gripping the edge tightly until my knuckles went white.
The woman in the mirror looked like a stranger. Red eyes. Hollow cheeks. Broken.
This is what you get for trusting him.
I needed to leave. Now.
But before I could move, I felt a hand on my back.
I jerked away, spinning around—
Scarlett.
She smiled. Sweet. Innocent. Fake as hell.
"You okay, Luna?" She tilted her head, eyes flicking to my stomach. "You're what, twelve weeks?"
I said nothing.
"Must be hard," she continued, "knowing he's only keeping you around for the kid. Once you pop it out, you're done. He'll take the baby and—" She snapped her fingers. "You're gone."
I clenched my jaw. "At least I'm not the side piece."
Her smile faltered.
"You can call yourself whatever you want," I said, stepping closer. "But everyone knows what you are. A homewrecker. The Omega who couldn't keep her Alpha the first time and sure as hell won't keep him now."
Her face twisted.
"You bitch!"
She lunged.
I stepped back and she tripped.
Or at least, that's what it looked like.
We both went down, crashing into a decorative vase behind us.
It shattered.
I hit the ground hard, shards of ceramic digging into my back. Pain exploded through my spine, sharp and vicious.
I gasped, trying to breathe through it, but before I could move—
"Scar!"
Damon's voice.
He burst through the door, eyes wild, and immediately dropped to his knees beside her.
"Baby, are you okay?" He grabbed her hand, inspecting a tiny scratch on her finger. "Fuck, your hand!"
I was still on the floor.
Still bleeding.
He didn't even look at me.
I tried to push myself up, but something heavy slammed down on my ankle.
His boot.
He pressed down hard, and I heard something crack.
I screamed.
"You dare hurt her," he said, voice low and deadly. "You fucking hurt her. You'll pay for that!"
My vision blurred. Pain radiating up my leg, my back, everywhere.
"Damon…" I choked out.
But he wasn't listening.
He scooped Scarlett into his arms, cradling her like she was made of glass.
"It's okay, baby," he murmured. "I've got you."
Scarlett looked down at me, her lips curling into a smirk.
"Damon," she whimpered, holding up her barely-scratched finger. "It hurts... stay with me tonight? Please?"
He kissed her forehead.
"Yeah. You're all that matters."
Just like that they left me. Alone. On the floor.
Bleeding.
A single tear rolled down my cheek.
Then everything went black.
Chapter 3
When I opened my eyes, I was in the pack hospital.
My back was on fire, my ankle throbbing like someone had taken a sledgehammer to it.
"Luna! Oh thank god!"
I turned my head.
My maid Clara and the housekeeper Benedict were standing by the bed, both looking like they'd been crying.
Clara crouched down next to me, her scent—soft, grounding—washing over me in waves.
"We were supposed to take you to your appointment today," she said, voice shaking. "But you didn't answer your phone. Then some random pack member called and said you were at Apex Lounge, hurt, and we rushed there right away."
She stopped, wiping her eyes.
"You were covered in blood. We thought—"
"I'm fine," I croaked.
"We tried calling Alpha Damon," Benedict said quietly. "His phone was off."
I laughed. It came out bitter and broken.
"Yeah. He's busy."
Clara frowned, handing me a cup of water. "You need to rest. We can go for the prenatal checkup another day."
"There's no need."
Silence.
She blinked. "What?"
"I terminated it," I said flatly. "A week ago. There's nothing to check on."
Benedict's face went pale.
Clara just stared at me, mouth open, like she didn't know what to say.
I closed my eyes, feeling the dull ache in my back as my wolf worked to heal the cuts. Slow. Painful.
"Don't tell Damon," I said. "I'll handle it."
Neither of them moved.
I shifted slightly, and the wound on my back pulled. Sharp. Burning.
But it was nothing compared to the hollow ache in my chest.
Damon's kick hadn't just broken bone.
It had shattered the last piece of hope I'd been clinging to.
Ten years.
Ten years of believing he loved me.
And it was all a lie.
"I want to go home," I whispered.
Clara nodded quickly. "Yes. We'll get you discharged now."
"No."
I opened my eyes, meeting hers.
"Not his home. My home. Snowpeak pack. I'm leaving."
Her eyes widened, but she didn't argue.
Damon called at three.
I had three hours before my flight.
Perfect timing.
"I'll be back in three hours," he said, voice smooth. Concerned. Like he actually gave a shit.
I didn't stop packing.
The Mate Bond Dissolution Agreement were on the bed. The termination report right next to them.
And spread across the coffee table—every single one of the ninety-nine photos Scarlett had sent me.
Damon and her. Laughing. Touching. Fucking.
I wanted him to see it all.
"Hey? Did you hear me?" His voice sharpened. "I'll be home in three hours. Is everything okay? Did you go to your appointment?"
Benedict was holding my phone, frozen, looking at me like he didn't know what to do.
I took it from him.
"Appointment went great," I said, voice light. Sweet. "Baby's perfect. Strong heartbeat. Everything's fine."
There was a pause.
Then his voice softened. "Good. That's good. I'll bring you something. Fresh moonberry cupcakes? You love that, right?"
"Don't bother." I kept my tone casual. "I've got a surprise for you. Just make sure you're here on time."
A soft, feminine giggle echoed in the background.
Scarlett.
Damon cleared his throat. "Yeah. Okay. See you soon."
He hung up.
Two seconds later, my phone buzzed.
A text from Scarlett.
"Still putting up with this? Honestly, I'm impressed."
I blocked her number.
Then I looked at Clara and Benedict, both standing in the doorway, eyes wide with worry.
"You should go," I said quietly. "When he sees all this, he's going to lose his shit. I'll triple your pay—wire it tonight. You've got two hours to get out before he gets here."
Clara's eyes filled with tears.
"Luna."
"Go."
They hesitated for a while, then they left.
I stood alone in the bedroom, staring at the photos on the table.
I pray to the Moon Goddess.
Let Damon Thornridge choke on every lie he's ever told.
Let him lose everything he thought he owned.
Let him burn.
