Chapter 3

The Swiss Institute’s Alpha Director had sent me three formal summons in the past month, each sealed with the silver-embossed crest of their research den. He urged me to join their Lunar Genetics team before autumn’s first frost.

In his words, I was “a rare omega-born scholar with an instinct for discovery—someone who might bring a breakthrough worthy of the Moon Goddess’s favor.”

Before I could let doubt or Gavin’s shadow creep in, I’d sent back a single word: Accept.

The research in Switzerland would last ten years. Ten years away from Gavin and his precious Vivian. That had been my plan.

But last night’s memory gnawed at me like a restless wolf in a cage. I had meant to initiate something with Gavin—one last tether to cut clean, a final memory before I ran. Instead, he’d spent the night under the blood moon with Vivian, no doubt doing something romantic in the moonlit grove where mates went to renew their bond vows.

Most of my belongings were still in my campus packhouse quarters. I needed only one suitcase of clothes. The only personal item worth carrying was the moon-touched keepsake box—crafted from moonwood and lined with silver-threaded velvet—holding our photographs.

We’d taken pictures every year since we were pups. In them, I smiled wide as a sunflower reaching for sunlight; he stood stiff as if carved from stone, his mind already in another hunt, probably chasing business deals—or Vivian.

I dropped the keepsake box onto the pack’s scrap pile. The metallic scent of rusted tools and old fur clung to it. Not even a starving stray would nose it twice.

The next fortnight blurred into long hours in the lab, the tang of silver instruments and crushed moonroot herbs in the air. I barely thought of Gavin—until his voice, deep and commanding as an alpha’s summons, broke into my Friday research shift.

“I’m outside your academy gates.”

I glanced down the street and spotted his obsidian Mercedes, gleaming under the pale afternoon sun. Sliding into the passenger seat, I kept my voice flat.

“What’s going on?”

“You haven’t been home.” His amber eyes stayed on the road.

“Busy with the lab.”

“Good.” His fingers drummed the steering wheel like claws on wood. “Vivian thinks you’re avoiding her. She’s moving out next month—says it’s awkward now.”

I yawned, letting my wolf’s indifference bleed into my tone. “Tell her not to worry. I don’t care.”

For a moment, surprise flashed in his gaze, like he’d expected a whimper, not a growl. He opened his mouth, perhaps to call me ‘mature,’ but shut it when he saw my eyes close.

I feigned sleep to avoid conversation—but exhaustion was real. For the first time in years, my dreams did not circle back to him.

Ten days until Switzerland.

In the small market near the academy, I stood clutching a bag of dried hawthorn berries—one of the few foods that didn’t turn my stomach lately. My cycle had been late for weeks.

The healer’s verdict came with a warm smile:

“Thirteen weeks. You and your pup are doing well.”

I almost laughed. Thirteen weeks. That meant it had happened the last time Gavin and I tangled under the crescent moon—right before Vivian slithered back.

My hands shook as I reached for my phone. At barely into my twenties, the thought of raising a pup alone made my wolf shrink back—

Then I heard it. Gavin’s distinctive ringtone—coming from down the hall.

He was there. His black coat draped around Vivian’s shoulders, her scent wound tight around him. She murmured something that drew a rare smile from him.

I ended the call in an instant, slipping into the stairwell.

Through the half-open door, I caught the healer’s voice

“—no heavy exertion.”

“And no mating for two moons.”

Vivian was pregnant.

“I’ll take care of her,” Gavin replied, his voice low, protective—the kind I’d never heard aimed at me.

The wolf in my chest howled. I pushed out of the stairwell so fast I collided with a nurse carrying patient files. The sharp crack of falling papers made heads turn.

Gavin stepped out just as I knelt to gather the mess. His nostrils flared, catching my scent. His brow furrowed.

“Rebecca? What are you doing here?”

“Just… stomach trouble.” I shoved my ultrasound slip into my pocket before his sharp eyes could spot it.

Vivian appeared, holding her own scan like a victory token. “Gavin says you don’t eat well. We should bring you some moonroot tea.”

I ignored her mock concern, my gaze snagging on the blurred image of her pup. Gavin’s color drained.

“Rebecca, wait—”

“Gavin.” Vivian’s voice sharpened like a claw. “Remember our promise.”

His body went still, the alpha’s decisiveness draining from him as her words wrapped around him like silver chains.

I turned away before my eyes could betray me. Behind me, Gavin’s steps faltered—

“Gavin!” Vivian’s tone turned icy. “You gave me your word.”

The elevator doors slid shut on the sight of my alpha caught between us, his gaze locked on mine, carrying something dangerously close to regret.

Outside, the cold wind bit deep, sharp as winter fang. My research acceptance letter lay buried in my bag—a ticket to freedom, once.

Now? A pup. And not the only one in his bloodline. The street stretched out like the endless lies in his mouth.

For the first time in my life, my wolf didn’t know where to run.