LOGINMona POVIt happened in the hallway.I had been steady enough that morning to walk to the bathroom without holding the wall. The improvement felt small but real, so I pushed it. I showered. I dressed. I even made it halfway back toward the guest room before the world tilted sideways and went soft at the edges.My knees gave out without warning.The floor rose up hard. I barely got my hands out in time to keep my face from hitting the wood. A thin, involuntary sound left my throat as the rejection sickness surged all at once—fever spiking, chest seizing with that cold hollow ache, vision narrowing to a gray tunnel. My wolf stayed silent. Even the instinct to call for help felt muffled and far away.I heard him before I saw him.Alessandro’s footsteps hit the stairs at a run. Then he was there, dropping to his knees beside me so fast the floorboards creaked. His hands were on me immediately—checking my pulse, turning my face toward him, hauling me up against his chest with a care that s
Mona POVBy the fifth day the difference was impossible to ignore.Alessandro moved through the house with something closer to his old strength. The gray cast under his skin had faded. He slept in longer stretches. When he spoke on the phone to the Beta or the boundary patrols, his voice carried the familiar weight of command again. The rejection had hurt him—I had seen that—but his body was climbing out of it faster than mine.Mine was not.The fever still came in waves. The deep, hollow ache in my chest remained constant, as if the severed bond had left a wound that refused to close. Simple things—standing too quickly, walking to the bathroom, trying to eat—left me shaky and short of breath. My wolf stayed silent and curled in on herself. The claim mark on my thigh had faded to a pale shadow. Looking at it made the emptiness worse.I hated the imbalance.It felt like proof that I had been the weaker link all along. That I had broken us and then failed to endure the consequences as c
Mona POV The letter arrived in the afternoon, carried by a neutral messenger who refused to step past the boundary line. I was downstairs for the first time in days—wrapped in a sweater that still felt too heavy on my fever-sensitive skin—when the knock sounded. Alessandro answered. I watched from the hallway as he took the sealed envelope, exchanged a few low words with the messenger, and closed the door with deliberate care. His expression when he turned around told me everything before he spoke. “It’s for you,” he said. “From the man who claims to be your father.” My stomach dropped. The rejection sickness gave a nauseating little twist in answer. I took the envelope with fingers that didn’t feel steady. The paper was thick, expensive, and unmarked except for my name written in sharp, unfamiliar handwriting. Alessandro didn’t leave. He leaned against the wall, arms crossed, watching me with that controlled intensity he wore whenever something new threatened the shrinking spac
Mona POV I learned about the Beta’s report the way I learned most dangerous things now—too late, and through the walls. It was the morning after Alessandro had nearly killed Dargrel. The rejection sickness had eased into a dull, constant weight, but my body still felt like it belonged to someone else. I was in the guest room with the door cracked when I heard the low, urgent voices downstairs. Mom had already left for an early shift. The house should have been quiet. It wasn’t. I slipped out of bed, moved carefully to the top of the stairs, and listened. Lucas’s voice carried first—steady, formal, the tone he used when he was speaking as Beta and not as a friend. “—not an accusation. Not yet. But the scent change on Mona is consistent and strong. Combined with the Alpha’s recent behavior, the public incident at the school, and the state of the mate bond with the Luna, I felt the elders needed to be informed before speculation spreads further.” A second voice answered. Older. O
Mona POVI didn’t see the confrontation happen.I only felt the moment Alessandro’s control finally slipped its leash.It was late—past midnight—when the front door opened and closed with a controlled violence that made the frame rattle. I was still in the guest room, half-upright against the headboard, the rejection sickness turning every hour into a slow grind of fever and hollow ache. Mom had gone to bed hours earlier after another tense, unfinished conversation with Alessandro. The house had been quiet.Then it wasn’t.I heard him come up the stairs hard and fast. The guest room door opened without a knock. Alessandro stood in the doorway, chest heaving, eyes pure molten gold, the scent of night air and blood and raw Alpha rage rolling off him in waves. There was a smear of red across the knuckles of his right hand. His shirt was torn at the shoulder.My heart lurched. “What did you do?”“What I should have done the first time he put his mouth on you.” His voice was low, rough, st
**Mona POVThe healer left just after sunset.She had checked my temperature, pressed two fingers to my wrist, and frowned at whatever she felt in my pulse. Her diagnosis was careful and incomplete—“severe stress response, possible energy imbalance, rest and monitoring”—but her eyes had lingered on Alessandro a second too long before she packed her bag. Mom walked her out. The low murmur of their voices drifted up the stairs, too quiet to make out.I was still in the guest room when my phone vibrated on the nightstand.Unknown number.I almost ignored it. Then the preview of the message froze the breath in my lungs.**Unknown:** Heard the bond’s broken. Or at least badly damaged. That true, little wolf?Dargrel.A second message followed before I could lock the screen.**Unknown:** Don’t bother lying. Word travels. Your Alpha’s been looking rough, and you’re hiding in the house like something died. Which it kind of did, right?My hands shook. The rejection sickness flared in response







