200 Reasons to Never Look Back

I have been bound to Ryan Hardin for nine years.

He is pureblood, the Alpha of Silverfang Pack.

And I… I was chosen as nothing more than a “temporary Luna,” a political pawn to steady the pack’s power.

In all those years, he was never truly mine.

Last night, at the Silverfang Pack’s full-moon feast, he openly entwined his hand with a young Omega’s while I sat abandoned at the far end of the Alpha’s table.

Every gaze cut into me—wolves whispering, mocking, savoring the spectacle.

It was his 200th betrayal.

When the feast ended, Ryan didn’t even look at me.

His words were sharper than fangs:

“Don’t forget, your Luna title is only temporary.”

At dawn, he descended the Alpha’s staircase, his voice cold and commanding as if I were a servant:

“Prepare the council’s tea. Now.”

I met his gaze without flinching, my voice steady, stripped of all submission.

“I’m sorry, Alpha. That is no longer my duty.”

He seems to forget—we were never bound by a mark.

Ours was an agreement, nothing more.

And today marks the third-to-last day before that agreement ends.

Three nights from now, I will leave Silverfang Pack.

I will no longer be his Luna. I will no longer be anyone’s possession.

I will return to the secluded Herbal Academy, reclaim my research.

And this time, when I walk away, I will never return.

---

I refused his command without hesitation.

Ryan Hardin froze for a moment.

In nine years of our agreement, it was the first time I had ever dared to tell him “no.”

His eyes swept over me, brows furrowed.

“Daisy Boyle, have you lost your mind, or is that unstable wolf of yours acting up again?”

My wolf roared inside me, furious and restless, but I kept my face calm as I met his gaze.

After a long silence, he grew uneasy under my stare and finally snapped,

“Fine. If you will not do it, then never do it again. Do not expect me to ever grace you with my appetite.”

With a flick of his hand, he called to the servants.

“Bring breakfast.”

When the food was laid out, Clare Lambert, the Omega he had brought home last night, walked straight to the Luna’s seat and sat down as if she owned it.

That chair was meant only for the true Luna.

Even without his mark, by agreement, it had always been mine.

For nine years, no one dared to touch it.

Now she leaned back gracefully, lips curving in mockery.

“This seat is far more comfortable than yours.”

Ryan did not stop her. His silence was permission.

I lifted my eyes and replied evenly,

“Then sit well. Do not give it up so easily.”

At breakfast, Ryan sat with her at his side, whispering and laughing, flaunting their intimacy.

My chest felt hollow, as if carved open, yet my thoughts circled only one thing—where I would go once this contract ended.

A sudden touch on my arm pulled me back.

I looked up to find Ryan standing over me, his expression dark.

“What is it?” I asked softly.

His eyes searched mine, sharp and suspicious.

“What were you thinking just now? I called your name, and you did not hear.”

I turned away, my voice calm, stripped of submission.

“I was thinking about what I will do next.”

His lips curved into a cruel smile.

“And what could you possibly do, Daisy? Train that weak wolf of yours? Or waste your time with those useless herbs?”

The insult rolled off his tongue with ease, but it no longer pierced me.

Perhaps I had grown numb.

Nine years of this bond had stripped me of myself, leaving nothing but a shadow bound to his side.

I had long forgotten the girl I once was—bright, ambitious, full of ideas.

Nine years ago, when my grandfather was dragged into the silver mines, Ryan appeared with an offer.

He gave me a million, but the price was binding myself to him under a mate-contract, a convenient stand-in to shield him from Campbell Pack’s challenges.

For my grandfather’s sake, I agreed.

For nine years, Ryan brought she-wolves into our home, one after another, each one resembling the girl he truly loved, the childhood mate he could never forget.

And I was nothing but the placeholder, the forgotten substitute, a contract Luna in name only.

“Daisy!” Ryan barked, snapping me from my thoughts.

I rose and met his eyes.

“I want to find work outside.”

He scoffed, his laugh sharp and cruel.

“You? At best, you could clean for the Campbell Pack. Even Clare Lambert has more worth than you.”

Before his words faded, Clare lifted her slender wrist for all to see, extending it toward him with deliberate grace.

“Alpha, isn’t this jewelry better suited for a true mate?”

It was a set of blue-diamond jewels worth three hundred thousand dollars, once crafted for his dead beloved.

For nine years, he had forbidden me to even touch them.

Now, he fastened them around Clare’s wrist himself, his touch tender, his expression solemn, as though performing a sacred rite.

In werewolf culture, for an Alpha to bestow such treasures was nearly the same as a half-mating ritual.

The servants whispered, their eyes flicking to me in uneasy silence.

Clare turned, her eyes gleaming with triumph.

“The Alpha said this jewelry has finally found its rightful owner.”

I only smiled, my gaze calm.

“Beautiful. It suits you well.”

She faltered, clearly not expecting serenity from me.

But I had already lowered my gaze, the truth carved into my heart.

This bond had become a grave long ago.

And I would be the one to walk out of it.

In three days, the agreement would end.

I would pack my things, leave Silverfang Pack, and return to the secluded Herbal Academy.

There, I would create a new discipline of Lycan herbalism, a kingdom of knowledge that belonged to me alone.

And this time, I would never return.