5

I stood in the center of the living room with my phone in hand, staring at the message that had landed in my inbox like poison:

“I’m three weeks pregnant.

He says he’ll take care of us.

Enjoy your ceremony, sweetheart.”

Liora.

My wolf growled so hard I tasted blood on my tongue.

She provokes us on purpose, my wolf snarled. She wants to watch us fall apart.

“She won’t get the satisfaction,” I whispered.

Not anymore.

I deleted the message, but its words burned into my bones.

Three weeks pregnant.

Meaning Tristan had been with her even on the night he claimed he was “doing reconnaissance for the pack.”

I inhaled slowly, forcing the fury down.

Today wasn’t for grief.

Today was for action.

________________________________________

The Evidence

The first step was proof.

If the pack was going to believe I died of heartbreak, they needed to understand why.

I retrieved the flash drive I’d hidden two days earlier the one containing footage from the small camera I placed near Liora’s bedroom door. The clips showed everything. Tristan slipping into her room at night. Tristan leaving at dawn. Tristan whispering, kissing, touching her with a familiarity that made my stomach twist.

I watched without flinching, though something inside me tightened each time he smiled at her.

He had smiled at me that way once.

Not anymore.

I plugged the flash drive into the silver projector I borrowed from the pack archives. It would activate during the ceremony—perfectly timed to expose the truth he buried so carelessly.

________________________________________

The Corpse

The body arrived just after noon, delivered in a sealed container.

The rogue who brought it a man whose life I once saved stood quietly as he lifted the lid.

Inside lay the body of a young woman killed during a rogue skirmish. Similar build. Similar hair. Similar complexion. Her face was damaged, unidentifiable unless examined closely. Her skin bore claw marks raw and believable.

“She drowned,” the rogue murmured. “The wounds will make the narrative stronger.”

My breath wavered.

My wolf lowered her ears in mourning.

This woman this stranger would save my life. A tragic ending repurposed into a second chance for me.

I covered her gently. “Thank you.”

“We take her to the ceremonial hall tomorrow,” he said. “Once the Alpha opens the coffin, he’ll believe it’s you.”

Good.

Let him shatter the way he shattered me.

________________________________________

The Letter

By evening, it was time for my final goodbye.

I sat at my desk, staring at a blank sheet of paper. My hand trembled once only once before I forced it still.

I wrote slowly, each word deliberate, sharp as a blade.

Tristan,

I loved you more than my own breath. I gave everything my trust, my body, my wolf believing your promises meant something.

But I heard it all. Every insult in the council hall. Every whisper you breathed into her skin. Every vow you made in the dark while mine still echoed in your pockets.

You shattered me. So I am giving you the world you always acted like you wanted one where I no longer exist.

I paused, letting the final truth settle.

Goodbye.

The woman you broke.

I folded the letter and placed it on the bed beside the ring he had given me. The metal felt colder than ever, heavy with everything it should have meant.

I left both on the mattress the same mattress where he once held me as if I were his universe.

________________________________________

The New Identity

Next came my transformation.

I cut my hair to my shoulders, watching the strands fall like old versions of myself dying on the floor. I dyed it darker. Packed new clothes. Burned old documents. Erased every trace of the woman Tristan planned to claim as his Luna.

When I slid the contact lenses over my amber eyes, muting them to brown, I barely recognized the woman staring back.

My wolf pressed close, fierce with pride.

We rise now.

“Yes,” I breathed. “We finally do.”

________________________________________

The Final Night

By nightfall, the house was too quiet hauntingly so.

My eyes drifted to the window. It was there, under the moonlight, that Tristan once told me:

“You’re mine, little Omega. I’ll never let anything happen to you.”

I touched the cold glass.

“You were supposed to protect me,” I whispered. “But you were the one I needed protection from.”

No tears came.

There were none left.

And when the sun rose tomorrow, everything would begin.

And Tristan would regret the day he ever betrayed me.