Alpha killed my adoptive mother; I presented evidence in court to send him to prison.

Damien Blackwood noticed I hadn’t submitted an expense request in three days.

He assumed I’d finally learned how to be a “proper Luna,” so he texted me like he was handing out charity:

“I reinstated your foster mother’s treatment.”

“Behave. Stop using ‘emergencies’ as an excuse to beg for money.”

“I know unmarked wolves have it rough, but my treasury isn’t a charity.”

What he didn’t know—

by the time that message landed, I’d already drafted the paperwork to dissolve our mate bond.

When I left, the only things I could take were the white T-shirt and old jeans I wore when I first married into this pack.

No one would believe it: the Luna everyone thought lived in luxury couldn’t even fill her closet with four decent dresses after three years of bonding.

Every coin I spent had to go through pack approval.

Every gown, every piece of jewelry was locked in a safe.

If I needed anything, I had to apply to Damien’s chief Pack Secretary—Serene Voss.

Because Damien despised where I came from.

In his mind, people who climbed up from the bottom always “lose control,” “waste money,” “embarrass the pack.”

But three days ago, my foster mother crashed.

I requested two hundred thousand for surgery and blood-bond medicine.

Serene deliberately held the approval—until my foster mother died inside a healing pod.

Damien didn’t know this:

I’d endured him for years for one reason—his pack’s medical access was the only thing keeping her alive.

Now she was gone.

And I had no reason to stay.

*****

I asked Damien to dissolve our mate bond.

He didn’t even look up.

He sent a cold message.:

“Stop acting.”

When he talked to me, his eyes never left the war reports and financial terminal on his desk—as if those cold numbers deserved more attention than I did.

I lowered my gaze, but my voice didn’t shake.

“I’m not acting. I’m leaving. I’m ending the bond.”

Damien stood, slow and irritated, his expression icy.

“Your foster mother’s treatment was paused because I approved it. Not Serene.”

“She followed my rules.”

“And if you hadn’t gone feral outside the council hall, I wouldn’t have had to teach you a lesson.”

“I already ordered the Healers’ Circle to resume it yesterday.”

Then he checked his watch like I was wasting his life.

“My time is expensive. I’m not sitting here while you throw tantrums.”

He walked out before I could answer.

Because he was sure I’d do what I always did—crawl back.

Lower my head.And then begged humbly..

Like I had every other time.

Even when he’d said it to my face:

“Don’t look at me like that. You look like you’re begging. It’s disgusting.”

And I would smile anyway. Stay quiet. Keep being the obedient shadow.

But now?

Whether treatment resumed or not didn’t matter anymore.

If three days ago Damien had answered my emergency messages, maybe I would’ve crushed my pride again and stayed.

But he never bothered to read my messages.

That night I was on my knees outside the healing ward, calling him over and over—praying he’d respond.

And all of it lost to one soft little whine from Serene:

“Is the Luna mad because I reminded her to follow procedure?”

“I don’t mean anything by it… I just don’t want her dragging her poor-girl habits into pack affairs.”

“I tightened the approval process for her own good. She needs to learn.”

After that, Damien became even more impatient.

He didn’t even let me finish.

He cut me off with one cold order:

“Do it Serene’s way.”

It had always been like this.

“I’m busy. Go through my Pack Secretary.”

“Listen to my Pack Secretary.”

“Whatever she tells you to do—do it.”

I was his mate… and I had no dignity in this pack.

Even when I had to attend pack banquets as Luna, I couldn’t just show up.

I had to submit an application to Serene.

Every time, she smiled like she was being helpful while she rejected it like it meant nothing:

“Luna, your reason isn’t detailed enough. Rewrite it.”

“The banquet ends at ten. Why did you request access until midnight? Not compliant.”

“Luna, you do this every time. I told you not to submit unless it’s perfect.”

She always approved it at the last possible second—

then watched me run around like a desperate servant trying to borrow a necklace, a dress, basic dignity.

Sometimes I still arrived late.

And Damien would stare at me in public, voice sharp as a whip:

“Elara. Can you manage time at all?”

“Serene never makes mistakes.”

But I couldn’t do it.

I never could.

Because his “perfect Pack Secretary” never allowed me to be on time.

Just like he knew my foster mother couldn’t stop medication, couldn’t wait—

and still snapped at me like it was my fault:

“How many times do I have to tell you? If you need money, go to Serene.”

“She wouldn’t deny you.”

Getting money from Serene had always been a battle.

“What kind of ‘emergency’ costs two hundred thousand at once? Luna, are you using illness as an excuse again?”

“That’s a huge amount. Attach itemized billing first. Rejected.”

I explained it was a prepayment. Detailed billing only comes after discharge.

Serene just smiled, like she was innocent.

“Ohhh, I see. My family is healthy, so I don’t know these things.”

“But pack funds have strict compliance. We can’t break rules.”

“How about you ask the hospital for a ‘process certificate’? I’ll reject this one for now.”

Then she added later:

“Medical institutions can fake paperwork, you know. I’m not saying you would—just saying it’s possible.”

“Maybe attach the Healers’ Circle regulations too?”

And like that, she dragged it out.

Dragged it out a very, very long time.

By the time the money cleared, even the best healers couldn’t save her.

Hatred and suffocation stabbed my heart like needles.

This mate bond was a cage.

I had to get out.

And once I decided what I was going to do, I felt lighter—like shackles had finally fallen off my bones.

So when I saw Serene’s “moonlit photo” meant to provoke me—

her standing beside Damien, wearing his cloak like she was the real Luna—

I didn’t react.

I calmly saved the screenshot.

And liked it.

Of course, the moment Serene was involved, Damien’s messages came fast.

“Serene’s been executing perfectly lately. I took her to dinner as her Alpha.”

“Don’t play petty games and make people misunderstand.”

Then, like an order:

“Since you liked it, don’t undo it. Undoing it makes you look guilty.”

“Leave a comment. Praise her work—make it ‘from both of us’ as encouragement.”

I didn’t want to respond.

But the bitterness had been sitting in my chest for years.

So I did it.

I commented:

“Pack Secretary Voss is truly devoted.”

“She treats me—the Luna—and pack members equally, using approvals to put her authority on full display.”

“Keep it up. Karma doesn’t miss forever.”

“Every coin you ‘save’ for the pack today becomes shared property in your future promotion. Applause.”

Then I tossed my phone aside and started packing.

It didn’t take long.

Because nothing in this house was really mine.

All the “valuable” things were sealed behind a moon-silver wardrobe lock and a triple-layer safe.

I lived here like a temporary guest.

My existence barely left a trace.

Now that I’d finally opened my eyes, I understood the truth:

I was never treated like a mate.