Chapter 1

Kieran’s last wish was simple—to see the ocean with his parents. A dream so small, so easy to grant. But Alpha Ronan Vale of the Obsidian Howl Pack, my mate, had never cared for us. Not for me. Not for our son.

I begged him. Over and over, until he finally relented, his agreement forced and begrudging. Yet, on the night before we were meant to leave, Ronan disappeared. And that same night, Kieran took his last breath—his wish forever unfulfilled.

I buried our son alone. No mate stood beside me, no comforting hand to hold. Just silence and a grief so deep it swallowed me whole.

Days later, the truth surfaced. Ronan hadn’t left us for duty or responsibility. He had been with my sister, Adeline Leclair, in the snow-capped mountains. Her Instagram post bled across my screen, a cruel twist of fate.

I said I wanted to see the snow, and you took me thousands of miles just to find it.

The words sliced through me, colder than the frost in her photo.

I didn’t cry. I didn’t rage.

I simply packed my things, severing every tie to the life I once knew. But as I walked away, it wasn’t me who broke—it was Ronan. His voice cracked, his tears fell, his pleas filled the air.

But I never looked back.

--

The pack house was never truly mine. It was supposed to be a home—a sanctuary for an Alpha and his family—but Ronan Vale of the Obsidian Howl Pack had never treated it as such. His presence was a rarity, his attention fleeting. It had always been that way. Even after I bore him a son, even after Kieran grew up waiting for a father who was never truly there, Ronan remained absent.

The only time I had ever begged him for something was for Kieran’s last wish—to see the ocean with his parents. It wasn’t much to ask, was it? A child’s simple dream. And yet, I had to plead, over and over, until he finally agreed. But on the eve of our departure, Ronan disappeared. He left us behind, just as he always did. That same night, Kieran took his last breath, never getting the chance to see the vast blue waves he had longed for.

I buried my son alone. There was no comforting hand, no whispered words of solace from the mate who should have been by my side. Days later, I found out why he had abandoned us—not for duty, not for some pressing Alpha obligation. He had been with my sister, Adeline Leclair. She had wanted to see the snow, and Ronan had taken her thousands of miles away to find it. The proof was right there on her Instagram, a picture of them together in the snow-capped mountains, her caption piercing through my grief like a dagger:

[I said I wanted to see the snow, and you took me thousands of miles just to find it.]

I didn’t cry. I didn’t scream. What was the point? My son was gone, and my mate had never belonged to me in the first place. So, I packed my things. I had nothing left to keep me here.

But as I prepared to leave, Ronan broke down for the first time. He clung to me, his tears soaking my shoulder, his voice trembling with desperate pleas. Yet, his sorrow came too late. His grief meant nothing to me now.

Returning from the cemetery to the pack house felt like walking through a graveyard of memories. Kieran’s laughter still echoed in my mind, his tiny hands pulling at my dress, begging for just one more bedtime story. Now, the silence was deafening. Each toy I packed away, each piece of clothing I folded, felt like I was erasing him from existence. My hands trembled as I clutched his belongings, tears falling unchecked.

But I couldn’t stay. Not in this house. Not in this pack. Not with the man who had never truly been mine.

Dragging my suitcase down the stairs, I halted when I saw Ronan carrying Adeline in his arms. She looked up at him, her hands curled around his neck as if she belonged there. And maybe, in his eyes, she did. He walked past me without so much as a glance, setting her down on the couch with the kind of tenderness I had never received.

"Anastasia Leclair," his voice was cold, indifferent. "Is this just another one of your dramatic stunts?"

Adeline, feigning innocence, sighed. "Anastasia, I twisted my ankle, and since Ronan said the Obsidian Howl Pack was close by, he brought me here to take care of it. You don’t mind, do you?"

I watched as he tended to her injury, his hands careful, his touch reverent. A twisted ankle—that was all it took for him to drop everything and run to her side.

I remembered when I had been injured. A rogue attack had left me with a broken leg, and in my desperation, I had reached out to him through our mind link, hoping—stupidly—for some concern.

"A broken leg isn’t life or death," he had said. "You already escaped the rogue. Why bother me?"

That was when I knew. Ronan had never cared. Not for me. Not for Kieran. His wolf should have sensed his mate’s pain, should have felt my suffering—but he had remained indifferent.

And now, as I stood here watching him dote on my sister, the truth had never been clearer. I had never been his priority. I had never been his exception. He was forced to take me as his mate, but his heart had always belonged to Adeline.

If it had been her instead of me, she would have been Luna of the Obsidian Howl Pack by now. But it was me—me, who had given him the power to become Alpha. And still, I was nothing more than a placeholder. A name on paper. Nothing in his heart.

My fingers curled around the handle of my suitcase. I had made my decision. There was no turning back.

Chapter 2

At last, I spoke the words I had been rehearsing for days. "Alpha, as you wish, I'm leaving."

I almost slipped—almost blurted out that I wanted to sever our bond entirely. But I caught myself just in time. After all, what did our so-called mateship even mean? It had been nothing more than a rushed ceremony, a mere formality. We weren’t truly married, nor had we ever built a real life together. There had been no love, no deep connection—only the bare minimum of what a bond should be. A hollow tie that had never truly been forged in the first place.

Ronan didn’t even bother to glance up, his full attention still on Adeline as if I were nothing more than an unwelcome disruption in his carefully crafted world. "What now? Changing your tactics?" His voice was as cold as ever, laced with mockery. "You think, now that you can’t use your son to manipulate me anymore, you’ll try using yourself instead?"

His words struck me like a physical blow, stealing the breath from my lungs. A year ago, Kieran had been diagnosed with an untreatable illness. His frail heart, his inability to heal—everything had pointed to a grim fate. He was just a child, too weak to shift, too fragile to connect with his wolf. Every day, his life had hung by a thread while I watched in helpless agony, knowing he was slipping further away. And throughout it all, he had only asked for one thing—to see his father.

Ronan had never visited him, never shown the slightest concern. In his mind, I had only ever used Kieran to gain sympathy, to guilt-trip him into caring. And now, after ten years together, that was all I was to him—a manipulative woman desperate for attention.

I blinked away the sting of tears, refusing to let him see me break. "Believe whatever you want, Alpha. I'm leaving."

With that, I turned on my heel, dragging my suitcase toward the door. But before I could make it out, Adeline’s voice cut through the silence, feigning innocence. "Alpha, didn’t you plan to take Kieran to the ocean? You didn’t cancel that just for the mountain trip with me, did you? Anastasia’s upset..."

Ronan’s voice was gentle, almost soothing—a stark contrast to the cold indifference he always reserved for me. "Don’t worry, I know my priorities. We can visit the ocean anytime, but once the snow melts in the mountains, it'll be a long time before we can see it again."

A bitter scoff escaped my lips, sharp and cutting. How blind could he be? How utterly oblivious to the damage he had done? He didn’t know. He couldn’t possibly know that there would be no next time, no next trip, no next month for Kieran.

I clenched my jaw and strode toward the door, determined to leave. But before I could, Ronan moved, seizing my wrist in frustration. "It’s the middle of the night, Anastasia. Do you really think this is necessary? You’re crying over missing one trip to the ocean? Kieran can wait."

His words cut deeper than any blade. Even now, even after everything, he didn’t understand. He didn’t care enough to understand. His eyes flickered toward my face, finally registering the redness and swelling of my tear-streaked cheeks. For the first time, a hint of pity entered his gaze. "I’ll clear my schedule next month. I’ll take Kieran then, alright?"

Next month? What next month? What future did Kieran have left? If only Ronan had cared just a little more, maybe he wouldn’t be standing here, saying something so absurd.

I wrenched my hand free, my voice trembling with barely contained fury. "No need!"

Ronan stared at his empty palm, visibly stunned. He had never expected this—never imagined that the woman who had once clung to him so desperately would now recoil from him like he was a curse. He hesitated, then made a move to follow me, but Adeline, ever the center of his universe, clutched his arm, pulling him back.

"Alpha, it’s my fault," she murmured, her voice laced with false remorse. "I shouldn’t have competed for your attention. Even though I knew Kieran was faking his illness, I still—"

Faking…?

The world seemed to tilt, my breath catching in my throat. My entire body went cold.

Before I could even process the words, my hand had already moved on its own.

The sharp crack of the slap echoed through the room.

Adeline stumbled back, her hand flying to her cheek, eyes wide in disbelief. But I didn’t care. My palm tingled from the impact, but it wasn’t enough. Not nearly enough to drown out the storm of rage surging inside me.

Chapter 3

Ronan's face, which had initially shown a flicker of guilt, hardened in an instant. His expression turned cold as he instinctively positioned Adeline behind him, shielding her while his eyes darkened with accusation. "Anastasia, what are you doing? She’s your sister!"

I locked eyes with Adeline, barely restraining my rage. "You better watch your mouth."

Adeline widened her eyes, feigning innocence as she leaned closer to my mate, her presence making my wolf bristle with unease. "Alpha, I don’t want to come between you two. If my sister refuses to admit that Kieran is faking his illness, then I’ll just drop it."

Disbelief surged through me. My brow furrowed as I turned to Ronan, my voice shaking. "You think Kieran is faking it too?"

His silence was answer enough. He didn't believe me. He never did.

Then, I caught him scanning the room, his eyes searching for our son. But Kieran was nowhere in sight. "Where did you hide him this time?" His voice dripped with suspicion, laced with an accusation that cut me deeper than any blade.

If only he came home more often, he would see the reality—the table littered with medicine bottles, the never-ending pile of medical reports from our wolf healers, the sleepless nights Kieran endured. But instead, he chose to believe Adeline's lies—the poisonous words that painted Kieran as a manipulative child rather than the sick, fragile boy he truly was.

I remembered the day Kieran confided in me, his small voice trembling as he told me he didn’t have much time left. His last wish was simple: to see the ocean one final time. He had always been enchanted by the sea, mesmerized by its endless waves and mysteries—a love passed down from the stories his late grandmother used to tell him. But we lived far from the coast, and the only way to make his wish come true was to get Ronan to agree.

So I had begged him. No, I had humiliated myself—kneeling before him, clutching the fabric of his pants as I pleaded. "Please," I had whispered, my voice breaking. "This will be the last thing I ever ask of you. I swear… after this, I’ll set you free."

Ronan had looked down at me then, something flickering in his gaze. Was it relief? Satisfaction? I couldn't tell. "You mean that?" he had asked, his voice void of warmth, calculating.

"Yes," I had murmured, closing my eyes as tears streamed down my face, feeling the last remnants of my dignity shatter.

The bitter truth was that when Ronan was young, he had lost his parents in a rogue attack, leaving him a lone wanderer. I could still recall the day I found him—a frail, half-starved boy lying unconscious on the forest floor. I had been just a child myself, playing among the trees, when I stumbled upon him. He was nothing but skin and bones, his body covered in grime, his lips cracked from thirst.

My heart had clenched painfully at the sight. "You poor thing," I had whispered, brushing aside the tangled strands of hair from his dirt-streaked face. "You must be starving."

His hollow eyes had flickered open, filled with a fear that spoke of countless nights spent alone. Something in me had fractured at that moment. I couldn’t leave him there. I couldn’t let him die.

Reaching for his frail hand, I had pulled him up with all the strength my small arms could muster. "Come with me," I had said, my voice filled with quiet determination. "I’ll take care of you."

When I brought him home, my parents—Alpha Theron and Luna Faye Leclair of the Obsidian Howl Pack—had been wary. My father’s stern voice still echoed in my memories. "Anastasia, he’s a stranger."

But I had refused to back down. "Please, Father," I had begged, desperation tightening my throat. "He has no one else. If we don’t help him, he’ll die!"

My mother, always the gentler soul, had looked at Ronan with quiet pity. "Theron," she had murmured, placing a hand on my father’s arm. "He’s just a child."

Even then, my father had hesitated, his expression unreadable. He had not been easily swayed. And so, I had done the only thing I could think of—I went on a hunger strike.

For days, I refused to eat, growing weaker with each passing moment. But I had remained steadfast, determined to prove that I would not relent until they agreed. Eventually, my father had sighed in resignation. "Alright, Anastasia," he had said, his voice laced with reluctance. "We’ll take him in."

That day, I had thought Ronan became my brother.

Or so I had believed.

Chapter 4

When I turned eighteen, everything shifted. My father, consumed by ambition for power and territory, began to disregard my mother, who had once been just an ordinary she-wolf before becoming Luna. He sought out the daughter of a powerful Alpha from another pack, lured by the promise of dominance and prestige. Without hesitation, he cast my mother aside, rejecting her as his mate, and instead bonded with this other woman, ultimately claiming the position of Alpha in the Phantom Moon Pack.

That was the kind of man he was—selfish beyond measure.

Without looking back, he abandoned us. "You and Adeline should come with me," he had said, his voice void of affection or concern. "There’s nothing for you here."

But I couldn’t leave my mother behind. "I’m staying with Mom," I had responded with unwavering resolve. "She needs me."

Adeline, however, was different. She craved the status, the influence, the life that came with our father’s new rank. Without hesitation, she chose to follow him, leaving me and our mother behind without so much as a second thought.

I watched her leave that day, standing at the very edge of our pack’s borders. "Adeline," I had called out, my voice raw with desperation. "Don’t go."

She had turned back only once, her gaze distant and devoid of warmth. "This is our opportunity, Anastasia," she had said, her tone eerily detached. "I’m not wasting it."

In the years that followed, I became the target of Ronan’s resentment. He blamed me for everything—for keeping him from following Adeline, for trapping him in the Obsidian Howl Pack, for holding him back from the future he thought he deserved. And when I became his mate, his hatred for me only deepened.

As a child, I had always admired Ronan, trailing after him like his shadow. I adored him. He was my world. So when I turned eighteen and discovered that he was my mate, I was overjoyed. I thought it was fate—that we were meant to be together.

But Ronan didn’t see it that way. The moment I told him we were mates, his reaction crushed me.

"No," he had said, his voice cold and final. "This isn’t right. I was supposed to be with Adeline."

His words shattered me. "Ronan, please," I had begged, tears streaking down my face. "We’re fated to be together. You can’t just leave me."

But he had been ready to walk away, prepared to abandon me, to follow Adeline and pledge himself to the Phantom Moon Pack.

Then, my mother fell ill. And on her deathbed, she made Ronan swear an oath—to stay by my side, to protect me as his fated mate. Out of obligation to the woman who had raised him, he agreed. But in his heart, I knew he resented her for binding him to me, for forcing him to remain where he didn’t want to be.

And after my father’s departure, leadership of the pack fell to me. Even then, I knew how much Ronan craved power, so I willingly handed him the title of Alpha, content to serve as Luna in the background. Yet, despite our bond, despite everything, he never once announced me as his Luna.

One day, I confronted him. "Ronan," I had asked, my voice steady despite the storm raging inside me. "Why haven’t you acknowledged me as your Luna?"

His response was a dagger straight to my heart.

"Your mother forced me to mate with you. And now you expect me to make you Luna too? Keep dreaming, Anastasia. That title will always belong to your sister."

His words wounded me deeper than any physical attack ever could. At that moment, I knew—I was nothing to him. I had no place in his heart. That space had always been reserved for Adeline.

But I had one last plea, one final desperate wish: Kieran’s trip to the ocean. I was ready to set Ronan free, to finally let him go. But even then, he refused to grant me that one moment of peace.

He could never love me—I had come to accept that. But how could he be so cruel to Kieran? How could he turn his back on his own son?

Chapter 5

I fixed my gaze on Ronan, my emotions a storm of disappointment and fury. The man who had once seemed as flawless as a masterpiece now only filled me with revulsion. Those eyes—once a source of comfort, once softened by affection—were now nothing but cold and unyielding. I had always found warmth in them, but now, they served only as a cruel reminder of the distance between us.

Before I could speak, Adeline’s voice sliced through the tension. “Alpha, my foot hurts, and so does my face. Can you check if it’s swollen? I’m worried it might ruin my appearance for tomorrow’s Alpha gathering.”

Ronan’s attention shifted instantly, his concern for her unmistakable. He cradled her in his arms with the kind of tenderness that once belonged to me. Adeline took full advantage of it, leaning into him like a delicate porcelain doll. My slap had left a red imprint on her pale cheek, and her eyes brimmed with artificial tears.

Watching him wipe them away so gently was a cruel reminder of what we had lost. I could still recall the younger version of him—the boy who had been kind to me, who had helped me up when I fell, who had wiped away my tears with the same gentleness he now reserved for Adeline. The realization that those moments were nothing but distant memories now, replaced by this twisted spectacle, was almost unbearable.

“Anastasia,” Ronan’s voice rang out, devoid of the warmth it once held. “Apologize to your sister.”

Lifting my chin, I straightened my posture, my resolve unshaken. “No.” My voice was firm, defiant. The sheer audacity of my refusal seemed to catch him off guard. For a brief moment, he looked as if he couldn’t quite recognize me—as if the girl who had once loved him so openly was a stranger now.

The irony didn’t escape me. When I had loved him, I had always been so careful—so measured in my actions, so desperate for his approval. I had offered him my heart, hoping that if I gave enough of myself, he would finally see me. But no matter what I did, it was never enough. I could never compare to Adeline in his eyes.

Ronan’s momentary surprise hardened into determination. He leaned back on the couch, Adeline nestled in his arms, his gaze locking onto me with unsettling ease. “Anastasia, don’t test my patience,” he warned.

His wolf guards, who had been silent observers until now, stepped forward. Without a word, they moved to block my path, their presence a clear command. They ushered me back in front of Ronan and Adeline, their movements sharp and authoritative.

Ronan remained at ease, his posture deceptively relaxed. But the air around him was suffocating, charged with unspoken threats. Crossing one leg over the other, he regarded me with an unnerving calm. “Apologize,” he repeated, his voice carrying the weight of an order.

Adeline, ever the performer, flashed me a smirk before turning to Ronan with feigned sweetness. “It’s okay, Alpha. Anastasia didn’t mean it.”

Ronan’s gaze softened, filled with what could only be pity and affection. “Adeline, you’re too kind. You treat her like a sister, but she’s never seen you that way.”

Then, his attention snapped back to me, and any trace of gentleness disappeared. His expression turned to ice, his words sharp as a blade. “Anyone who harms Adeline will pay the price—double.”

A memory surfaced in my mind—one from years ago when I had been cornered by young wolves from a rival pack. Ronan had appeared like a guardian angel, fighting them off with unwavering determination. Back then, he had stood by my side, my protector. But now, the same man who had once shielded me was standing against me, his loyalty placed elsewhere.

The realization hit like a punch to the gut. The man who had once meant everything to me was now determined to break me. His expression was merciless, his resolve absolute.

With a silent command, he signaled the guards. They stepped forward, grabbing me roughly, forcing me onto my knees before him and Adeline. My wolf howled within me, her fury and anguish mirroring my own. I felt her fighting to break free, but I held her back, unwilling to lose control.

One of the guards raised his hand, ready to strike me. Just before the blow could land, Adeline’s voice cut through the tension, dripping with artificial concern. “Alpha, she’s still my sister. Men can be too harsh—I wouldn’t want them to hurt her.”

Ronan turned to her, his expression betraying the slightest hint of approval.

“If she truly needs to be punished,” Adeline continued, her voice sickly sweet, “then let me do it myself.”

Chapter 6

Ronan made no attempt to intervene. A cruel smirk played on Adeline’s lips as she lifted her hand and struck me twice, her nails slicing into my cheek and leaving behind searing pain and thin rivulets of blood. Turning to Ronan, she feigned distress, her voice laced with insincere concern. “Alpha, what should we do? I’ve harmed Anastasia.”

Ronan merely scoffed, unimpressed by her act. “She brought this upon herself, Adeline. You’re too softhearted, worrying about her when she was the one who hurt you first.”

The guards loosened their grip, and I crumpled to the floor, my body aching from both the blows and the impact. As I lifted my gaze to meet Ronan’s, fury burned in my eyes. His next words, however, sent a fresh wave of outrage crashing over me.

“Anastasia, you owe Adeline an apology,” he declared, his voice sharp and unyielding.

Owe her? The very thought was absurd. She was the one who had spread vicious lies about my son, Kieran. The injustice of it all churned inside me, boiling over in a fury I could no longer suppress. My voice dripped with venom as I scoffed. “In your dreams! I despise you!”

For the first time, I met Ronan’s gaze without an ounce of the affection that had once resided there. What had once been admiration had now solidified into pure, unwavering hatred.

A flicker of something unreadable passed through his expression—annoyance, perhaps, but tinged with an unfamiliar softness. “Anastasia,” he began, his tone shifting, “just listen to me, and you can have anything you desire. I can be there for your son. I can even make you my Luna.”

His words felt like a cruel mockery of the past. I had once dreamed of standing at his side, of holding the title of Luna with pride. But the reality had been starkly different—while I had hidden in the shadows, he had paraded Adeline before the world as his true mate, his unwavering companion in the presence of other Alphas and their packs. I had been nothing more than a secret, a forgotten whisper in his life. And now, when I no longer wished for what he dangled before me, he wielded it as a means to bend me to his will.

The sting of Adeline’s slap still burned, but I refused to let it show. Instead, I met Ronan’s gaze head-on, my voice steady and resolute. “There’s no need, Alpha. We’re finished.”

Shock flickered in his eyes, as if my rejection was something beyond comprehension.

A slow, derisive smirk curled on his lips. “What’s this? No longer running to me, pretending you need me just so I can entertain your son?”

His words dripped with malice, but before I could respond, Adeline spoke, her voice thick with mock sympathy. “Anastasia, stop trying to deceive Alpha Ronan. If Kieran were truly dying, why would you be here alone?”

That was the final straw. My patience snapped like a brittle thread. “Shut up! You have no right to say his name!”

Adeline’s expression wavered into one of feigned hurt, but the glint of satisfaction in her eyes remained. “Okay, I won’t bring him up anymore,” she murmured, her tone laced with false innocence. “Please, don’t be mad at me, Anastasia.”

Her crocodile tears didn’t fool me. But Ronan, clearly provoked by my reaction, let out a cold, humorless chuckle. He moved with deliberate slowness, reaching into his pocket and retrieving his phone as if savoring the moment, as if preparing to strike a fatal blow.

With a smirk, he dialed a number and placed the call on speaker. His voice carried a chilling command. “Beta Magnus, find out everything about Anastasia’s son, especially his exact location. If he’s receiving treatment in the pack’s infirmary, cease it immediately.”

The air thickened with tension, heavy with the weight of his threat. His gaze never wavered from mine, watching me like a predator savoring the torment of its prey. He expected me to break. To crumble.

Instead, I held his gaze, my lips curving into a grim, defiant smile.

Then, Beta Magnus’s voice crackled through the speaker, delivering a blow that neither of us had anticipated.

[Alpha Ronan, Kieran is gone. He passed away the day after you vanished..]