Chapter 4

When I opened my eyes again, the scent of antiseptic mixed with too many heartbeats—familiar, unwelcome.

The room was crowded.

Isla stood by the bed, her eyes rimmed with tears.

"Lyra… It's all my fault. I didn't know my presence would hurt you so deeply."

"I've scolded Lucas and Mia. They promised to apologize."

"When you're better, I'll leave. I swear—I'll never come back."

Her voice trembled with sincerity, but the moment she spoke, Ethan and the pups shot me looks full of resentment—

As if I were the intruder,

As if I had clawed my way into a bond that never welcomed me.

My wolf bristled in silence.

Not with anger, but with a bitter ache that spread through her ribs like frostbite.

I stood there, still and composed, even as something inside me began to crack.

It was always this way—

Their unity, my exile.

Isla gently nudged Ethan out the door with a glance. Lucas and Mia shuffled forward, heads lowered, muttering a soft, rehearsed "sorry."

I opened my mouth to reply, but their eyes gleamed before the words even formed.

Lucas plucked a real caterpillar from the potted plant by the window—fat and writhing—and hurled it straight at my face with a shriek.

"Bleh! We only said sorry so Aunt Isla could bond with Daddy!"

I flinched. The creature landed on my cheek, cold and squirming, before sliding down onto my lap.

Mia twirled smugly beside him, her eyes gleaming with malice.

"You don't know, do you? Daddy loves Aunt Isla so much."

She got tired walking, so Daddy carried her like a princess."

"She wanted cake, and Daddy went to five bakeries just to get her favorite one!"

"She's going to be our new mom soon. You should just leave already."

They stuck out their tongues and scampered off, giggling, into Isla's waiting arms. She stood there—half-guilty, half-victorious—her hand gently stroking their hair like they were hers.

I picked up the caterpillar from my lap and crushed it slowly between my fingers.

Its soft body gave way with a faint, wet pop.

My wolf flinched inside me. Not from the sting of a toy—but from the burn of betrayal.

Before I could recover, both our families barged in.

The scent of power and judgment filled the room like smoke before a storm.

The Alphas of the Hawthorne Pack—Ethan’s parents—offered cold, practiced pleasantries.

Their gazes never softened, their eyes sharp as frost.

Between the lines, the message was unmistakable: Don't embarrass the family name. Know your place.

My parents stood beside them, shoulders slightly bowed, nodding along to every word like obedient servants.

Not once did they look at me.

Not once did they ask if I was okay.

And at that moment, it struck me—not as surprise, but as confirmation.

To them, I was never a daughter.

Just a pawn they had long traded away.

A Luna by name.

A vessel by purpose.

Nothing more.

But when everyone else left, my mother turned and slapped me across the face.

"Useless she-wolf! Eight years as Luna, and you still couldn't keep your mate's heart!"

"Isla didn't even try—and she has him wrapped around her finger. What good are you?"

Fury twisted her features as she grabbed the nearest switch and struck me across the arm, then the back.

By the fourth blow, the wolf snarled, trembling on the edge.

I caught her hand mid-swing. My voice was steady, glacial.

"You've taken enough from me. It's over."

She scoffed.

"I don't care what you do. But hear this—if you go through with the bond severing, we'll disown you. The Moonclaw name cannot carry your shame."

They stormed off, the sound of the closing door like a final severing of blood ties.

Only Ethan remained, standing in the doorway like a ghost I could never exorcise.

He stepped forward, his palm brushing gently over the bruise swelling on my cheek.

"Was it worth it?" He asked softly.

"You’ll always be the Hawthorne Luna, no matter who I care about. We have pups. The bond."

Just a quiet sovereign.

I almost flinched under his touch—not from the pain, but from the tenderness I no longer trusted.

I met his eyes, calm as winter frost.

My body still bore bruises—not all of them visible.

But the deepest wounds were not etched into the skin.

They lived in the silence after every cold dinner, in the way he never looked back when he left the room.

In the way the pups reached for her hands, not mine.

I used to wonder if I was simply too hard to love.

If I should smile more, speak less. Obey. Endure.

Like Luna was expected to.

But even the strongest wolves bleed when you carve into them long enough.

And mine… mine had bled dry.

I breathed in slowly, my pulse steady now, not calm, but decided.

I wasn't cold. I wasn't heartless.

I had simply stopped begging to be seen.

I looked at Ethan once more.

This time, there was no hurt.

No hope.

"Worth it?" I echoed, my voice barely above a whisper.

"It's not about worth, Ethan. It’s about surviving."

"Your 'bond' was a leash. Your pups, weapons. Your love… never existed."

And still, I stayed.

For duty. For pups. For a mate who never truly chose me.

Never again.

"I'm not," I whispered, shifting away from his touch.

I wasn't his Luna. I was a bargaining chip traded for power between packs. A broodmare. A servant in my den. A shadow in my children's lives.

Thirty years of swallowing pain and keeping quiet.

Enough.

I looked Ethan straight in the eye.

"I want a dissolution. I want the bond severed."

His face darkened, then returned to its usual icy calm.

He left without another word, slamming the door behind him.

A single line tossed in the air:

"Ungrateful."

My wolf didn't snarl.

She simply curled into herself, a low, guttural whine rising from her chest—

Not of anger,

But a long-awaited goodbye.

Soon after, Isla moved into the den under the pretense of helping with the pups.

They went to amusement parks.

Took family portraits beneath golden skies.

Laughing through the streets, I once dreamed of walking as a family.

Lucas and Mia—once picky to the point of tantrums—praised her overcooked mac and cheese and instant ramen like they were gourmet delicacies.

Ethan—once obsessed with pressed shirts and spotless collars—wore Isla’s wrinkled laundry with a fond smile.

No one criticized Isla. No one demanded anything of her.

They only said, "Don't let Isla get tired. Lyra can handle those chores when she returns."

But they didn't know—

I wasn't coming back.

On my discharge day, I booked a one-way flight to New Zealand.

No goodbyes. No explanations.

Just the quiet severing of a bond that had bled me dry.

As I was preparing to leave, Ethan appeared at the gate.

"Lyra," he said, "I've thought about it. I don't want to end this."

"The pups need you. Our families are bound by treaty. If news of a split gets out, it'll crash the entire pack."

He spoke like a werewolf judge, like a strategist—calculated, composed.

He listed every reason—

Status.

Pups.

Legacy.

Everything but love.

Not once did he say he still loved me.

Because he didn't.

And maybe he never had.

My chest ached—not from hope, but from the memory of how long I'd waited to hear a word he would never say.

My wolf stirred. Not in longing, but in quiet refusal.

She didn't snarl. She didn't plead.

She simply stood up, turned her back, and walked away.

I met his gaze, the bond between us thinning like frost under the morning sun.

"I have nothing left for a male who only remembered I existed when I tried to leave," I said, my voice steady.

"And I won't be your second choice anymore."

"You have no idea what price you'll pay for this bond severing," he said.

"The Moonclaw family won't take back a daughter who's been cast off."

His eyes were cold—

Filled with the kind of certainty that only comes from watching someone surrender too many times.

"I'm not staying," I said. "I don't care about the Hawthornes. About the Moonclaws. About Lucas and Mia."

His gaze sharpened, certain I'd waver.

I handed him a folded paper.

"If you refuse, I'll escalate."

He snatched it open with disdain, only for his breath to steal.

His shoulders stiffened. His lips parted. He said nothing.

Finally, he mumbled, "The dissolution papers will be delivered. But if you change your mind…"

I didn't let him finish.

I turned, walked past him, and stepped into the cab.

At the airport, my phone rang nonstop. It was my mother, screeching down the line.

"Lyra! What did you do? Why did Ethan agree to bond severing all of a sudden?!"

I answered, my voice calm.

"Just one sentence."

"What sentence?"