Chapter 6

I turned and doubled back to the twelfth floor, shouldering through the stairwell door and slipping into the corridor. At the far end sat a service elevator — I'd noticed it the day I moved in. It went straight down to the underground garage.

I hit B1. In the three seconds it took for the metal doors to close, I held my breath, my heart slamming against my ribs.

The elevator reached the bottom. I kept my head down and moved fast through the parking level, ducking out of the garage exit and into the back alley.

The black SUV was right there. Oregon plates. Engine running.

I ran for it.

The rear door swung open and a man in a dark coat leaned out, waving me over. "Get in, Miss Ashwood."

I dove into the back seat. The door slammed shut.

Through the rear window, I saw Kieran's enforcers burst out of the building entrance. One of them spotted the SUV —

Too late.

The car had already merged into traffic and vanished into the morning rush.

"You're safe now," said Graham. "Alpha Ronan sends his regards."

He handed me a new phone and a small vial of Moonshade elixir.

"Drink it. Masks your scent for seventy-two hours. More than enough to clear Blackwood territory."

I pulled the stopper and downed it in one go. Bitter enough to numb the root of my tongue. Then he passed me the Ashwood pack crest — a silver pendant of an ash tree and moonstone. I fastened it around my neck; the chain sat warm against my skin.

As the car merged onto the highway, I sank back into the seat and let out a breath I'd been holding far too long.

I was finally out.

But the relief lasted only seconds. Because I knew better than anyone — Kieran Blackwood was not a man who accepted loss.

To him, losing something and having it taken were two different things. The first didn't exist. The second meant war.

…

The plane took off at noon.

I watched Seattle shrink beneath the clouds. Three years of life, reduced to a hazy speck outside the cabin window, and then — nothing.

I pulled out the new phone. No contacts, no call history. A blank slate.

As if I were supposed to start over.

But my thoughts kept circling back.

Selene was never the intruder. She'd been there all along. She was the "my moon" he murmured in his sleep, the secret hidden behind our photograph, the fated mate he'd choose without a moment's hesitation.

And what was I? A placeholder? Someone to keep his bed warm until the real Luna was ready?

I closed my eyes and dug my nails into my palms. The sharp sting barely pushed the heat back behind my eyelids.

When the captain announced the descent into Portland, I pressed my forehead against the window. Below stretched green forests and distant mountains — a world away from Seattle's steel and glass.

Maybe everything really could start over.

Mom was waiting at arrivals.

She wore a dark trench coat, the rims of her eyes red, as though she hadn't slept all night.

"Lia." The moment she saw me, her lip trembled. She crossed the distance in quick strides and pulled me into her arms. "Thank God you're safe."

I buried my face in her shoulder. In that moment, I wasn't some Alpha's dirty secret anymore. I was just a mother's daughter.

"Come on." She took my backpack and pulled me toward the parking lot.

Someone was standing by the car.

Tall. Dark brown hair. A faint old scar across the brow bone. A hunter-green coat worn open, sleeves pushed up to reveal solid forearms. Early thirties, with an aura that was steady and understated — nothing like Kieran's razor-edged intensity.

But I still caught it in an instant — the faintest trace of Alpha presence, deliberately reined in.

"Lia, this is Ethan Thornwood." Mom's tone lifted slightly, carrying that particular note mothers use when they're not-so-subtly scheming. "The young Alpha of the Thornwood pack. He happened to be in Portland, so he came to pick us up."

Ethan gave me a small nod. He didn't step closer, didn't release any pheromones. "Hello, Aurelia."

It took me a second to register — this was the man my mother had wanted to introduce me to.

I looked at her. She raised her eyebrows just slightly, a you're welcome written all over her face.

"Get in the car, sweetheart."

I drew a deep breath and slid into the back seat. Ethan took the passenger side without a word, quietly watching the road. No forced small talk, no attempt to fill the silence.

It was unexpectedly calming.

Twenty minutes later, the car pulled up in front of Mom's house. The place where I'd grown up.

Inside, everything was the same. The wooden fireplace, the shelf lined with childhood photos of me.

Mom brewed tea. We sat at the kitchen table — the same table where I'd done homework, planned my future, dreamed of becoming a model someday. Back when my life still made sense.

Mom held her teacup and looked at me. "Lia, do you remember this table? You were ten years old, sitting right here, when you told me you were going to travel the whole world."

I nodded, my throat tight.

"And you did." She took my hand. "You've always been brave. This time is no different."

Ethan cleared his throat softly. "Mrs. Grey, I should get going."

"No." The word left my mouth before I'd planned it. I looked at him. "Would you mind helping me take a photo?"

He blinked, then nodded. "Of course."

I handed the phone to Mom and walked over to stand beside Ethan. He hesitated for half a second before resting his arm across my shoulders — barely any weight to it, as if he were afraid of breaking something.

Mom hit the shutter.

In the photo, we looked at ease.

I took the phone back, pulled up the screenshots I'd organized of my conversations with Kieran, opened Instagram, selected the screenshots and the photo, and started typing.

I am announcing my permanent retirement from modeling. Thank you all for your support. Regarding the recent controversy, let me set the record straight: I am not some "crazy ex." The truth is simple — an Alpha tried to have two women at once, and I refused.

I scrolled down to make sure all the screenshots were there —

Selene is just a pack arrangement. It won't change what we have.

Give me two years. I'll dissolve the bond. We can make it official.

You're the only woman I want, Lia. The only one I love.

I typed one final line:

I've already found someone new. I'd appreciate it if Alpha Blackwood would stop interfering with my life.

My finger hovered over "Post."

Then I pressed it.

The post went live.

I turned off the phone, ejected the SIM card, and snapped it in half.

Then I fished the boarding pass stub from my pocket, tore it to pieces, and dropped them in the trash.

I wasn't going back.

Not to Seattle. Not to Kieran. Not to being the Lia who'd loved him like a fool.

Somewhere in Seattle, Kieran's phone was probably detonating right about now.

Let it explode.

Let every lie he'd so carefully woven come apart in the light.

I tilted my head back and watched the sunlight fall across the mantelpiece, landing on an old photograph — a little girl straddling a fallen pine tree, grinning wide.

That little girl wasn't afraid of anything.

Maybe she was still in there.