Chapter 1

The party went on. The air was thick and heavy.

“You’ve been gone two years, Alora. You probably don’t know,” a Beta sidled up to me, his eyes flicking between me and the couch.

“Those two are the Council’s golden couple now. No Goddess-fated bullshit. Just real love.”

“Don’t be silly.” Clara blushed, giving him a light tap. “We’re not mates.”

As she said it, Jaxon’s hand was resting on the small of her back. His hand tightened, fingers pressing into the fabric of her dress, pulling her that half-inch closer into his side.

A silent, public claim. She didn’t push him away.

“It’s just a matter of time, right?” someone else jeered.

Jaxon didn’t deny it. His fingers tightened again.

I stood by the bar, my fingertips cold against the glass.

My eyes landed just below Clara’s collarbone.

A moonstone. A silver wolf’s head. And on the clasp, a tiny, old scratch.

My mother's moonstone. The only thing I had left of her.

Two years ago, when I asked him to make us public, he tore it from my neck in front of half the pack. My rogue-born blood was a stain to the Elders. And Jaxon needed the elite families' support to win his Alpha Council seat.

The chain broke the skin. Blood dripped into the hollow of my collarbone. He said he was keeping it until I learned my place.

And now, Clara was wearing it.

“Alora.” Clara walked over with two glasses, her eyes glistening. “I’ve always wanted to clear the air. That spot at the academy… I didn’t steal it. It was the Elders’ vote. If I had known you wanted it so badly…”

“I’m not drinking.”

Her hand froze mid-air. Her eyes turned red on cue.

“…Did I do something to offend you? I just want to make things right.”

“Clara, don’t beg.” Jaxon frowned. “She’s been in the North too long. She’s gone feral.”

A burly wolf slammed his glass on the table.

“Cut the crap, Alora! Everyone knows you’re obsessed with Alpha Jaxon! You think crawling into his bed during his Rut five years ago makes you special?”

The room went dead silent. Everyone waited for the punchline to my joke of a life.

No one here knew. No one knew I was his true mate.

He thought it was too much trouble. He let them all believe it was just a cheap one-night stand.

I stared straight at Jaxon.

Just one word from him. Just one single shred of defense.

But he gave me nothing.

Jaxon released Clara. He grabbed his whiskey, walked over, and tapped his glass against the guy's. Clink.

“You’re right,” Jaxon said. A cruel smile on his lips.

I knew he was punishing me. Two years of my silence from the North had bruised his Alpha ego. He wanted to see my eyes fill with tears. He wanted me to break, to beg for his affection like I used to.

But those two words… “You’re right.” They sliced right through the bond that had ached for five long years.

I remembered him calling the mating ceremony I craved “meaningless.”

So this is what we were. Not even a joke.

I stood up and walked to the door. I didn’t look back.

Two a.m. Thunderstorm.

The wind threw icy rain against the steps. I pulled out my phone. Called an Uber.

Heavy footsteps behind me. The scent of cedar and musk hit me like a wall. His Alpha presence, closing in.

“I’ll take you home,” Jaxon’s voice was ice in the thunder.

It wasn’t a question. It was a command.

“Not necessary,” I said, my face blank.

He took a step closer, his presence suffocating. Cedar and musk. Two years ago, that scent would have made my knees weak.

“Alora, cut the attitude. How long are you going to keep this up?”

A black SUV cut through the rain, stopping at the bottom of the steps.

I didn’t hesitate. I pulled open the back door and slid inside.

Jaxon’s face darkened.

He didn’t stop me. He didn’t follow.

He just stood there. So sure I’d break. So sure I’d roll down the window, crying, giving in, just like I always had for the last five years.

I met his arrogant gaze. And pressed the button for the window.

The glass slid up, silent and smooth. It sealed his arrogant face, and the entire storm, completely out of my world.

The car drove off into the night.

In the past, I would have looked back.

This time, I didn't.