Chapter 5

Summer’ POV

After I made the decision to leave, I set a seven-day countdown on my phone.

Seven days.

Seven days from now, I’ll take Felix and leave this pack, leave Alpha Foster, and leave behind every painful memory tied to this place.

But before I go, there’s one thing I have to do.

I have to take back what’s mine.

So, I contacted Evelyn Sage.

She was a close friend from my law school days, and now one of the senior legal advisors in the pack.

We agreed to meet at a café on the edge of the territory. The moment I stepped inside, I spotted her in the crowd.

She sat by the window, a crisp trench coat draped over the back of her chair, her chestnut hair pinned into a perfect bun. A black coffee sat beside a thick stack of documents.

“Luna Summer,” she said, rising as she saw me.

“Evelyn.” I walked over, and she politely pulled out a chair for me, every move clean and precise.

“You look like someone who’s made up her mind,” she said after studying me for a second.

I nodded, without a hint of hesitation.

“I want to sever the mate bond.”

“Luna Summer, no wolf ever willingly walks away from Moonlake’s resources. And no Omega would choose to give up Alpha Foster.”

Her gaze sharpened.

“What happened? I thought you… used to love him.”

“I did,” I said with a bitter smile that barely touched my lips.

“That was in the past.”

She didn’t press further. Instead, she pulled a document from the stack, flipped to a few pages, and slid it toward me.

“This is the prenuptial agreement you and Foster signed. And this—” her tone remained calm and professional, “—is the current legal code regarding severance of mate bonds and property division.”

She flipped through the pages, her voice steady and clear.

“If you initiate the severance, according to both the agreement and the updated laws, you are not entitled to any shared assets.”

My fingers tensed. I asked quietly,

“Nothing? I walk away with nothing?”

Evelyn nodded, not sugarcoating it.

“Leaving Foster is legally considered a voluntary dissolution of the mate bond. As an Omega, you have no inheritance rights and no claim to joint property.”

She paused, her expression turning serious.

“More importantly… custody of Felix automatically defaults to the paternal bloodline. You—won’t have the right to take him with you.”

In that moment, I felt like I had fallen straight through the ice of a frozen lake—so cold I could barely breathe.

I stared at the documents in silence, Felix’s face flashing through my mind—

The way he furrows his brows in his sleep.

How he tries so hard not to cry when the other kids laugh at him.

How tightly he clutches my coat when he’s scared.

At last, I closed the folder and slowly pushed it back toward her.

“Even if I walk away empty-handed,” I said, voice soft but firm, “I will still sever the bond.”

I paused, then added quietly,

“But I’m not leaving without Felix. I have to take him with me.”

Evelyn’s eyes flickered, and for the first time, I saw her expression soften.

She pulled the file back toward herself and pointed to a page.

“That depends on whether you can provide evidence—proof that Foster has seriously failed in his parental duties, or that the environment is emotionally harmful to Felix.”

Her voice gentled.

“This part isn’t absolute. If you make a convincing case, the court will consider awarding you custody.”

I exhaled slowly.

Good. That’s all I needed.

Negligence? Emotional harm? Felix’s missing eye… is all the proof I need.

“I’ll get everything ready,” I said quietly.

“I’ll help you with the paperwork. If this is really what you want—

You know how to reach me.”

“Thank you, Evelyn.”

She looked at me, something unreadable in her gaze.

“Then… I wish you luck.”

I nodded and stood to leave.

—

It was sunset when I got home.

The kitchen was empty and silent. I rolled up my sleeves and began preparing dinner.

The Omega servants here never listened to me.

They never saw me as their Luna.

I had gotten used to it.

I washed vegetables, chopped chicken, peeled carrots, tossed a bundle of herbs into the pot, and turned on the stove to let the soup slowly simmer.

Soon, the familiar aroma filled the air—rosemary and thyme blending with the scent of chicken broth.

Just as I was about to slice bread, my phone buzzed on the kitchen island.

I picked it up.

A F******k notification.

Suzanna had posted something.

I tapped it open—

And a photo loaded.

It was the outdoor patio of an Italian restaurant.

Suzanna was wearing a deep red dress, smiling brightly, her cheek pressed against his shoulder like something precious and carefully treasured.

And he—he was looking down at her, his eyes soft with affection, a look I had never seen on him before.

On the table were the same dishes: shrimp risotto, tiramisu, and two glasses of his usual red wine.

In the center of the photo was Moore—throwing up a peace sign at the camera, grinning ear to ear, his eyes sparkling like stars.

My breath caught.

A dull ache slammed into my chest like a blow from a blunt weapon.

That wasn’t just any restaurant.

It was the one Foster and I used to go to the most.

The one Felix always said he wanted to visit again.

Every time we passed by that street, he’d look longingly out the car window and ask,

“Mommy, is that place still open?”

And I’d tell him,

“When Daddy has time, we’ll all go together.”

But he never had time.

And now, he did.

Just… not with us.

He sat at the same table we always used to sit at, ordered the same dishes we always ordered—only now, with someone else.

Turns out, all those memories I thought were special…

Were just templates he could recycle for another person.

Before I could close the photo, I heard small footsteps coming from the living room.

“Mommy, it smells so good! What are you making?”

Felix’s voice was soft, slightly nasal.

I snapped back to reality, quickly flipped the phone face-down on the counter, and turned to smile at him.

“Are you hungry, sweetheart?”

“Not really… Mommy, what were you just looking at?” He blinked up at me.

My heart clenched. I kept my tone light.

“Just some work stuff, baby.”

Luckily, Felix didn’t question it.

I knelt down and gently ran my hand over his hair.

“Sweetheart, the soup still needs a bit more time. Why don’t you go upstairs and change into comfy clothes? Then you can pick a cartoon to watch while we eat.”

He blinked.

“Can I pick Bluey?”

I smiled.

“Of course you can—as long as it’s not the fifth time we’re watching the same episode. And remember to take a break after. Protect your eyes, okay?”

Finally, he smiled a little and ran back to the living room, his footsteps light and carefree.

Once he was gone, I turned back around, resting my hands on the edge of the sink.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.

That photo was still burned into my mind—like a splinter lodged deep in my skin.

No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t pull it out.

I looked down at the bubbling pot of soup. My eyes stung.

It’s okay.

Just hold on a little longer.

Countdown: six days.

—

I took Felix to the preschool to file his withdrawal paperwork.

Outside the principal’s office, I raised my hand to knock—

But paused when I heard voices inside.

“Alpha Foster, are you really planning to transfer Moore to this preschool?”

Suzanna’s soft, familiar voice.

“Yes. I reviewed the curriculum here—it’s well-structured, and the faculty seem solid,”

Foster’s voice, deep and sure, with that typical air of finality.

“But…” she hesitated, drawing the word out, “isn’t this Felix’s old school? Aren’t you worried Luna Summer might misunderstand?”

“Alpha Foster, I don’t want to make things harder for you…”