Chapter 3

The day I started the ledger was the day I understood my marriage for what it was.

A contract.

And my heart was the only thing I hadn’t formally signed away.

The black leather notebook lived in the back of our shared walk-in closet—tucked behind winter boots I never wore in this territory.Plain.Unremarkable. Nothing like the silks and jewels expected of a Luna.

Kain was looking for his grandfather's cufflinks.

Heirlooms carved from old-world silver, stamped with the Blackwood crest. He moved through the rows of tailored suits with that lethal grace of his—his presence a low hum of power that made my wolf want to bare her throat.

Then he stopped.

He noticed the box.

Not designer. Not elegant. Just black. Ordinary. Out of place among his luxury.

His curiosity—a rare thing when directed at me—flickered to life.

He pulled it down. Opened it.

The ledger lay inside.

He lifted it, thumb tracing the plain cover. Flipped to the first page. His eyes moved across my handwriting—the elegant script my mother taught me before she died.

The Sinner's Ledger.

Something crossed his face. Amusement. Or irritation.

He read the rules beneath the title.

Starting score: 100.

Every betrayal, every abandonment, costs points.

When it hits zero, I'm free.

A scoff escaped him. Low and dismissive.

"A half-blood's little game," he muttered.

Half-blood.

The word he wielded whenever he needed distance. The reason I would never be enough.

He flipped through the pages. Entry after entry.

–1 point: He forgot our mating anniversary.

–3 points: He canceled our trip to Moon Lake because Victoria called.

–2 points: He stayed with Victoria while I was burning with fever.

–1 point: He said her name in his sleep when the fever took him.

His jaw tightened.

Not with guilt. With annoyance.

To him, this wasn't a record of wounds. It was proof of my obsession with Victoria Stone.

He tossed the ledger back and shoved the box onto the shelf.

"Childish."

He found the cufflinks, slipped them into his cuffs, and turned to leave.

That's when he saw me.

I was sitting just outside the closet. Sketchbook open on my lap—little wolf pups playing on nursery walls, a mobile of silver moons hanging above a crib.

He paused.

For one breath, his gaze lingered on the drawings. Something flickered in his expression—something I couldn't name.

My heart stuttered. My wolf lifted her head.

Then he stepped closer.

Close enough that his scent wrapped around me—pine and woodsmoke and something darker underneath. Close enough that the bond between us stirred, faint but alive. My skin prickled. Heat pooled low in my belly despite everything.

"What's this?" His voice dropped low. Almost gentle.

"Nothing," I said. "Just sketches."

He crouched in front of me. His fingers brushed mine as he took the sketchbook—a spark that shot straight through my chest.

Half a second. That was all.

My wolf whined. My breath caught.

He studied the drawings. The nursery. The pups. The moons.

"You're good," he said quietly.

Three words. My chest ached with how badly I wanted them to mean something.

His thumb traced the edge of a sketch—a tiny wolf pup curled beneath a crescent moon. When he looked up, his eyes met mine.

Gold flickered at the edges of his irises.

My lips parted. His gaze dropped to my mouth.

The air between us thickened. My pulse hammered against my throat.

For one impossible moment, his hand lifted. His knuckles grazed my jaw—feather-light, almost hesitant. Like he was remembering something. Or trying to.

Kain.

His name rose in my throat. I didn't say it.

Then his phone buzzed.

The moment shattered.

"Alpha." Marcus's voice, sharp and urgent. "Fire at Victoria's gallery. Valdez family is claiming responsibility."

The softness vanished. The Alpha heir returned—cold, distant, already rising.

He dropped my sketchbook on the floor. Grabbed his keys.

"Kain—"

The door slammed behind him.

I followed.

The gallery burned against the night sky. Kain stood at the barricade, gold blazing in his eyes, snarling at the fire chief.

"My wolf, my title, my entire existence is bound to this pack." His voice cracked—raw in a way I'd never heard. "And I would let all of it burn to get her out. Do you understand me? Let me through."

Something inside my chest went very still.

Nearby, voices drifted through the smoke.

"He's been like this since they were pups," someone murmured. "She's the only one who makes him lose control."

I understood then.

I wasn’t his choice.

I was the space he filled while waiting for her.

Kain broke through the line. Disappeared into the flames.

When he emerged, Victoria was in his arms. Coughing. Face buried against his chest. He murmured to her—soft, urgent, meant only for her.

He didn't look at me.

Not once.

I turned away.

The moon hung full above me. Silver light spilled across my face.

For one heartbeat, my eyes caught the light—and flickered.

Kain glanced up. Frowned.

"Kain!" Victoria's voice, weak and plaintive.

His attention snapped back to her.

Whatever he'd seen was already forgotten.

I walked home alone.

I opened the ledger.

–1 point: He would let himself burn to ash for her.

Entry 98.

Two points left.

I closed the ledger and stared at the ceiling until dawn.

The girl who used to cry for him was fading.

……

Now, lying in a healing chamber with my body stitched together and my womb empty, I finally understood.

The ledger had never been a record.

It was a countdown.

Two points had once stood between us and the end.

Now the score was zero.

And I was done burning for a man who only had ashes to give.