Chapter 3

The collar was a constant reminder of my shame. My wolf was suppressed by the silver; I could barely breathe.

That suffocating feeling of being trapped washed over me again.

I fought back the urge to vomit and whispered, "I understand. I will."

They wouldn't let me go. I knew that now.

But I had to find a way to escape.

As I was trying to figure out a plan, Tristan walked in again.

No. That faint, strange scent.

It was Ronan.

He'd taken a scent blocker again. He smiled as he walked toward me.

His eyes landed on the collar. His gaze darkened, and for a second, I saw a flash of regret.

He smiled as he walked toward me.

"I'm sorry, Lucia. You probably don't know that we grew up with Arabella. She's like a sister to us. You've suffered."

Then he took my hand, his face a mask of affection.

"After all, We still need to try on our ceremony outfits together. Don't be sad, okay?"

I didn't know why Ronan was acting like this.

They both clearly despised me.

The next second, when I felt his hand wander to my waist, trying to pull off my clothes, I understood.

Just like he said, he liked my body.

He just wanted to have sex with me.

My expression froze. I pushed him away instinctively.

"Let's wait for the ceremony, okay? I'm not mad. If this is what Bella wants, I'll cooperate."

My feigned obedience seemed to please him.

He kissed my ear. "Alright, baby. I'll see you three days after."

He left, but the predatory hunger in his eyes promised he’d be back for more. But I was focused on what he'd said—trying on the ceremony outfits.

Yes. Maybe I could escape during the fitting.

The next day, stylists swarmed around me, holding the pure white Luna ceremony gown.

I let them move me like a doll. The collar around my neck was painfully obvious in the bright lights of the dressing room.

The stylists exchanged nervous glances, but no one dared to ask.

"Perfect," the head stylist said with a forced smile. "You'll be the most beautiful Luna."

The most beautiful joke.

Just as I was about to change, the dressing room door was pushed open.

Tristan walked in, with Arabella clinging to his arm like a venomous snake.

She had changed into a pale gold dress that made her glow.

As if she was the one in charge here.

"Tristan," she purred, pulling on his arm. "The jewelry exhibition is about to start. You promised you'd help me pick a necklace."

Tristan didn't even look at me. He gently smoothed her hair. "Of course. Only the most precious jewels are worthy of you."

"In that case, I want the Moon Goddess Necklace," Arabella's voice grew sweeter.

The Moon Goddess Necklace.

The sacred artifact worn by every Luna at her coronation.

It was priceless, a symbol of supreme power.

I stood there, a clown in a ridiculous costume, watching my fated mate prepare to hand over my honor to another woman.

"But... Lucia is still trying on her dress," Arabella said with fake concern, her eyes full of provocation.

"She doesn't matter."

Tristan turned his back to me, his voice cold.

This was the Tristan I recognized.

I used to wonder why Tristan was so passionate in bed but so cold during the day.

I thought it was just his Alpha authority.

I never imagined they were two different people.

But I had no time for heartbreak.

A smile touched my lips as I feigned obedience. "Arabella just got back. You should spend more time with her."

Tristan nodded, satisfied, and left with Arabella.

The fake smile on my face vanished.

The entire pack was busy with the ceremony, just two days away. The Alpha was gone. This was my chance to run.

The second the fitting was over, I ran to my room, grabbed my car keys, and ditched my suitcase. I bolted for the garage.

Tristan never actually forbade me from leaving. If I could just get the car on the road, no one would stop me.

Just as I left the room, my phone lit up.

It was a picture from Arabella, a social media post. Tristan himself was fastening the gleaming Moon Goddess necklace around her neck.

They looked so intimate. Like true mates.

"Looks like your destined mate only loves me, little healer. I'm so looking forward to your bonding ceremony. Whatever you've found out, you can't escape."

I scoffed. Let the bastards have each other. It had nothing to do with me anymore.

But the next second, my phone buzzed violently.

Unknown number.

"Is this Miss Lucia? This is St. Mary's Sanatorium."

The frantic voice on the other end hit me like a hammer to the chest.

"Your mother's vital signs are failing! Her wolf soul is fading! The doctors say she won't make it through the night! You have to come immediately!"

Mom.

My only family in this world.

In my last life, I was trapped in the basement. I never even got to see her one last time.

No.

It won't happen again!

I flew from my room, no longer a person, but a primal animal fighting for her young. I ripped off the corset, threw on a coat, and bolted downstairs.

I needed a car.

I'd crawl to the sanatorium if I had to.

I burst into the garage and found my old car.

But the moment I pressed the unlock button, despair washed over me like a tidal wave.

All four tires.

Completely flat.

They had been slashed neatly with a sharp blade, the rubber curling back in a grotesque grin.

Stuck to the driver’s side window was a pink sticky note. A smiley face was scrawled on it in her handwriting:

"Good little dogs aren't allowed to run off, you know."

"No... No!"

The nightmare of Arabella came crashing back.

It was the Academy all over again. She relished every moment of my torment.

I’d been afraid she would run straight to Tristan about the study. But now I understood. She was sure I couldn't escape, and she wanted the pleasure of breaking me all to herself.

Fighting back would only feed her cruelty.

I sank to my knees, a raw scream tearing from my throat as the sky ripped open, unleashing a merciless downpour.

No car.

The packhouse was on a remote mountainside. It was nearly impossible to get a cab.

But I couldn't stop.

Mom was waiting for me.

I wiped the rain from my face, scrambled up, shifted into my wolf form, and charged into the dark, stormy night.

Even if I died on the way, I had to see her.