Chapter 5

"Alexander," I said, meeting his gaze steadily, "I need to tell you something important."

The forest clearing suddenly felt too small, the moonlight too bright. My heart pounded against my ribs as I prepared to reveal the secret I'd carried for three years.

"What is it?" Alexander's voice was impatient, his amber eyes still cold with anger from my slap.

I took a deep breath. "It's about why I haven't been able to give you an heir. I—"

The urgent howl of Alexander's phone cut through the night air, interrupting my confession. His expression shifted from irritation to concern as he quickly checked the message.

"Alexander Blackwood," he answered sharply.

I could hear the frantic voice of Eva Dawnrunner, his assistant, through the speaker. Her normally calm tone was replaced with panic.

"Alpha heir, it's Ivy Lawrence! She's in critical condition from the wolf wine poisoning! The healers say her blood is rejecting the treatment!"

Alexander's face paled. Without another word to me, he stripped off his formal council attire and shifted into his massive black wolf form. Alex's amber eyes met mine for just a moment before he turned away.

"Alexander, wait!" I reached toward him desperately. "Just give me one minute. Please!"

But he was already racing away through the forest, leaving me alone with my unspoken truth and silent tears.

The wind carried away my whispered words: "Alexander, I cannot bear pups anymore!"

I sank to my knees on the cold forest floor, wrapping my arms around myself. The truth clawed at my throat, demanding release, so I spoke it again to the empty clearing.

"I cannot bear pups anymore."

Each repetition felt like silver claws raking against my heart. Three years ago, when that rogue wolf had launched itself at Alexander during the territory dispute, I hadn't hesitated to throw myself between them. The attack had left me with internal scars that the pack doctor said would make pregnancy nearly impossible.

I had saved my mate's life, and in return, I had lost my chance at motherhood.

Now Alexander was racing to Ivy's side without a second thought, while my suffering meant nothing to him. After four years of our mate bond, I was worthless in his amber eyes—merely a convenient healer, not a true Luna.

The moonlight illuminated my tears as they fell freely now. My white healing robe, the formal attire I'd worn for the pack council meeting, suddenly felt suffocating.

With trembling fingers, I loosened the high collar, unbuttoning the front until I could feel the night air cool against my flushed skin. I reached up and pulled out the pins holding my honey-brown hair in its formal style, letting it cascade down my back in waves.

If I wasn't Alexander's Luna in his eyes, then why should I constrain myself to look the part?

I activated the distress signal through our pack connection, knowing Ruby would respond. It wasn't fair to call my friend so late, but I couldn't bear to be alone with these crushing realizations.

Within minutes, I heard the soft padding of wolf paws approaching. Ruby shifted back to human form as she entered the clearing, quickly pulling on the clothes she'd carried in her mouth.

"Aurora!" Her amber eyes widened at my disheveled state. "What happened? Where's Alexander?"

"Where do you think?" I laughed bitterly. "Running to Ivy's side. She's more important than anything I might have to say."

Ruby crouched beside me, her expression concerned. "You're shivering. Let me take you home."

"I don't want to go back to that den," I said firmly. "Not tonight."

Ruby nodded, understanding without needing further explanation. "My place then?"

I shook my head. "Do you have a cigarette?"

Her jaw dropped in shock. "A cigarette? You've never smoked in your life! Your healing abilities—"

"Just give me one," I interrupted. "Please, Ruby."

Reluctantly, she pulled a pack from her jacket pocket and offered me one. With inexperienced fingers, I placed it between my lips as she held up a lighter.

The first inhale burned my enhanced werewolf senses, sending me into a coughing fit. Ruby patted my back, her expression a mixture of concern and confusion.

"This is horrible," I gasped between coughs. "Why do wolves do this?"

"To dull the pain," Ruby answered quietly. "But there are better ways, Aurora."

I took another drag, more carefully this time. The burning in my lungs seemed appropriate somehow, a physical manifestation of the pain in my heart.

"Four years," I whispered. "Four years I've loved him, Ruby. And now..."

"Now?"

"Now I can transform that love into hatred." The words tasted as bitter as the smoke. "It'll be easier that way when we sever the mate bond."

Inside me, Zoe howled mournfully, rejecting my words even as I spoke them. My wolf still recognized Alexander as her mate, still yearned for his wolf Alex, despite everything.

I stubbed out the cigarette against a nearby stone. "I need a drink. A real one."

Ruby helped me to my feet, steadying me when I swayed slightly. "Where do you want to go?"

"Silver Moon Bar," I decided. "It's far enough from pack territory that no one will recognize me."

The Silver Moon Bar was dimly lit and half-empty when we arrived. I made my way to a corner booth, ignoring the curious glances from the few patrons—mostly humans with a few lone wolves scattered about.

"Wolfsbane-infused whiskey," I told the bartender when he approached. "Double."

Ruby sat across from me, concern etched on her face. "I should stay with you."

I shook my head. "No, you've got the early patrol tomorrow. I'll be fine."

"Aurora—"

"Please, Ruby. I need some time alone."

Reluctantly, she left after extracting a promise that I would call if I needed anything. The first glass of whiskey burned going down, but the second was smoother. By the third, a pleasant numbness began spreading through my limbs.

The wolfsbane infusion was mild—just enough to affect werewolf metabolism without being toxic. It amplified the alcohol's effect, making one drink feel like three.

I lost count after the fourth glass, my world becoming a hazy blur of bitter thoughts and burning liquor. The formal healing robe I wore felt increasingly restrictive, so I unbuttoned it further, feeling the cool air against my collarbone and upper chest.

Through my drunken haze, I vaguely registered someone sliding into the booth across from me. I looked up, expecting to see Ruby returned to check on me.

Instead, steel-gray eyes met mine.

"Ethan Gray," I slurred, recognizing the pack's chief enforcer. "Come to drag me back to my mate?"

Ethan's expression remained neutral, but his eyes took in my disheveled appearance—my loosened robe revealing the fair skin marked with faint scars from the rogue wolf attack, my hair tumbling wildly around my shoulders.

"I think you've had enough, Aurora," he said quietly, his deep voice carrying no judgment.

I laughed, the sound brittle even to my own ears. "Not nearly enough. I can still remember his name."

Ethan signaled the bartender to bring water. When it arrived, he pushed it toward me. "Drink this instead."

"Why are you here, Ethan?" I asked, ignoring the water. "Alexander send you to find his wayward mate?"

"No." Ethan's answer was simple. "I was at Northern Cross when Ruby called me. She was worried."

Northern Cross was the enforcer headquarters a few miles away. Of course Ruby would call Ethan rather than Alexander. She knew better.

I tried to stand, to prove I was fine, but the room tilted alarmingly. Ethan was around the table in an instant, steadying me with a strong arm.

"Let me take you home, Aurora," he said, his voice gentle but firm.

"I'm not going back to him," I insisted, my words slurring slightly. "Not tonight."

Without warning, Ethan removed his leather jacket and placed it around my shoulders, covering my partially unbuttoned robe.

"You don't have to," he assured me. "But you can't stay here like this. Think of your position as chief healer, of Alexander's position as future Alpha."

Even drunk, I understood his meaning. A scandal was the last thing either of us needed.

I tried to protest when Ethan lifted me into his arms, but the combination of wolfsbane whiskey and emotional exhaustion had drained my strength. My head fell against his shoulder as he carried me out of the bar.

The cool night air hit my face, momentarily clearing my head. "I can walk," I mumbled unconvincingly.

Ethan ignored me, carrying me to his black SUV parked nearby. He settled me carefully in the passenger seat, fastening my seatbelt when my fumbling fingers couldn't manage the task.

As he started the engine, I felt the world spinning again. I closed my eyes, trying to stop the carousel in my head.

"Are you calling Alexander?" I asked suddenly, seeing Ethan reach for his phone.

"I should inform him of your condition," Ethan replied carefully.

I grabbed his wrist, my green eyes flashing with my wolf's pain. "No. I don't want to see him. I don't want to go back to our den."

Ethan hesitated, clearly torn between his duty to his Alpha and his concern for me.

"Please, Ethan," I whispered, my eyelids growing heavy. "Not tonight."

The last thing I remember before drifting into unconsciousness was Ethan's reluctant nod.

(Ethan's POV)

I watched as Aurora's eyes fluttered closed, her breathing evening out as she fell asleep in my passenger seat. The wolfsbane whiskey had hit her hard—expected for a healer who rarely drank.

With a sigh, I set my phone aside, respecting her wish not to contact Alexander. Though it went against protocol, I couldn't bring myself to betray her trust when she looked at me with those pain-filled green eyes.

Stepping out of the car to clear my head in the night air, I left the door slightly ajar to keep an eye on her. The situation was complicated, to say the least.

Through the car window, I could see Aurora sleeping, her elegant features highlighted by the moonlight filtering through the trees. She looked vulnerable yet alluring in her white healer's attire, now partially covered by my leather jacket.

The mate bond between Alexander and Aurora was clearly failing—anyone with eyes could see it. The Alpha heir's attention to Ivy Lawrence had become increasingly obvious over recent months. And now this crisis with Ivy had pulled him away from whatever important conversation Aurora had been trying to have.

My wolf stirred restlessly within me, responding to Aurora in a way that went far beyond my duty as pack enforcer. There was something about her quiet strength, her dignity even in distress, that called to me on a primal level.

I ran a hand through my hair, trying to clear these inappropriate thoughts. Aurora was still Alexander's mate, regardless of their current troubles. And Alexander was not only my Alpha heir but had once been my closest friend.

Yet as I looked back at the sleeping woman in my car, her honey-brown hair spilling across her shoulders, I couldn't deny the protective instinct that surged through me—one that went well beyond my responsibilities as pack enforcer.