Chapter 4

The pack fortress was silent when I returned.

Not the comfortable silence of a home at rest. The hollow silence of a place that had never been lived in.

I signed myself out against healer's orders. Chloe tried to stop me, fingers wrapped around my wrist, eyes still swollen.

"Luna, please. Your body needs time—"

"There's nothing left to heal."

She let go.

The car pulled up to the main entrance. I walked through the iron gates alone. The guards didn't look at me.

They never did.

Inside, my footsteps echoed against marble. Three years I'd lived here.Three years of walking these halls, eating at that table, sleeping in that bed.

It had never felt like home.

I went straight to the bedroom. Our bedroom. The one we'd shared in name only.

His scent clung to everything—pine and smoke and Alpha. My wolf stirred weakly, still drawn to our mate even now.

I opened the closet. His side: tailored suits, Italian leather, watches worth more than my mother's estate. My side: designer labels his assistant had chosen. Appropriate for a Luna.

Nothing that was ever mine.

I started packing.

Not the gowns. Not the jewelry. Not the furs meant to make me look like I belonged.

Just the things from before. A sweater my mother knitted. A photo of her laughing in our old garden. The sketchbook filled with nursery designs that would never be built.

I was folding the sweater when I heard his footsteps.

My hands froze.

That gait. I'd know it anywhere. The measured stride of an Alpha who owned every room he entered.

The door opened.

Kain stood in the doorway.

He looked... tired. Dark circles under his eyes. Stubble shadowing his jaw. His shirt wrinkled—Kain Blackwood, who never had a hair out of place.

In his hand, a gift box. Pale blue. Silver ribbon.

"I heard you were in the healing ward."

His voice was flat. Distant. Like he was reading from a script.

My heart stuttered anyway.

He came, my wolf whispered. He came to see us.

"The healers said you checked yourself out early." He stepped into the room, set the box on the dresser. "You should rest. Recover your strength."

I watched him move. Watched the way he kept distance between us—three feet, maybe four. Close enough to seem present. Far enough to stay untouched.

Then he looked at me.

Really looked.

His eyes traced my face. The hollows in my cheeks. The bruises I couldn't hide. The way my clothes hung loose on a body that had lost too much.

Something shifted in his expression.

He crossed the room.

One step. Two. Until he was close enough that his scent wrapped around me, until the bond between us hummed—faint but alive.

My breath caught.

"Kain..."

His name slipped out. Soft. Almost a whisper.

His hand lifted.

His knuckles grazed my cheek—feather-light, almost hesitant. His thumb traced the edge of a bruise near my jaw.

"Who did this to you?"

His voice had dropped. Low. Rough. That protective edge I'd only ever heard him use for her.

My wolf surged. Heat bloomed in my chest, spreading lower. My skin prickled everywhere his gaze touched.

"Rogues," I managed. "In the blizzard."

His jaw tightened. Gold flickered at the edges of his irises.

"I'll have them hunted down. Every last one."

For one impossible moment, I believed him. Believed this meant something.

His eyes dropped to my mouth.

The air thickened.

My lips parted. His hand slid from my cheek to the curve of my neck, his palm warm against my pulse. I could feel my heartbeat hammering against his fingers.

Maybe, I thought. Maybe this time—

His phone rang.

The sound cracked through the room like a gunshot.

Victoria.

Of course.

His hand dropped. He stepped back. The cold rushed in where his warmth had been.

"I have to take this."

He answered before I could respond.

"Victoria." His voice softened. Warmed. Tender in a way I'd never heard directed at me. "Slow down. What happened?"

I couldn't hear her words. Only the high, trembling pitch of distress.

"I'm coming." Already moving toward the door. "Stay where you are. I'll be right there."

He paused at the threshold. Glanced back—but not at me. Through me.

"Rest. I'll be back later."

He wouldn't be.

We both knew it.

The door closed.

His footsteps faded.

The car engine roared to life.

Then: silence.

I stood there, his touch still burning on my skin. My wolf howling at the loss.

One hundred and one times.

One hundred and one times he'd almost seen me. Almost stayed.

And one hundred and one times, she called.

I reached for my phone.

Bridget answered on the second ring.

"Aira?" Her voice was cautious. Hopeful. "Is everything—"

"I'm leaving. Tomorrow."

Silence. Then a long exhale.

"About damn time." I could hear the smile in her voice. "I've had a room waiting for you for two years. What do you need?"

"A fresh start."

"You'll get one. I promise." A pause. "What about the bond?"

"The Moon Temple. Neutral territory. They can sever it."

"You're sure?"

I looked around the bedroom. His scent clinging to everything. The pale blue gift box sitting untouched.

"I've never been more sure."

"Then I'll see you soon." Her voice softened. "You're going to be okay, Aira. Better than okay."

I hung up.

The gift box sat on the dresser. I opened it.

A necklace. White gold. Diamond pendant shaped like a crescent moon.

Beautiful. Expensive. Chosen by someone who didn't know me at all.

I set it with the others. The earrings from our first anniversary—his secretary's taste. The bracelet that arrived by courier. The ring his mother picked because he couldn't be bothered.

I closed the velvet box.

Then I walked to the nursery.

I'd decorated it myself. Pale silver walls. A mobile of moons and stars. Hand-painted murals of wolf pups playing in meadows, sleeping under crescents.

The crib sat in the corner. White oak. Carved with protective runes I'd researched for weeks.

I touched the railing.

My baby would have slept here.Would have looked up at those painted moons with wide, wondering eyes.

Would have.

The first sob tore from my throat.

I sank to my knees. Grief crashed through the numbness—raw, animal, unstoppable. I cried for the child I'd never hold. For the nursery that would stay empty. For three years of waiting for a man who was never mine.

My wolf howled with me.

When the tears stopped, I was hollow.

But my hands were steady.

I reached for the mobile first. The little moons and stars I'd hung with such hope.

They came apart easily. Piece by piece. Star by star.

Then the murals.

I peeled the canvas in long strips. The wolf pups disappeared. The meadows vanished. The painted sky went dark.

The crib took longer.

I broke it down with my bare hands. Splinters bit into my palms. The protective runes cracked. The white oak groaned as it splintered.

When I finished, the room was bare.

I stood in the center.

Fragments of moons at my feet. Torn canvas scattered like shed skin. The bones of a crib that would never hold anyone.

Tomorrow, I would go to the Moon Temple.

Tomorrow, I would sever the bond.

And then I would never stand in this room again.