Masuk
Rue’s POV
Laughter spilled out of the Half Moon Pack’s banquet hall like a cruel reminder of the life I didn’t belong to.
The soft pulse of live music, the distant chime of crystal glasses, the easy sound of wolves celebrating, the kind of sound that used to make me smile.
But now, it only reminded me how far away I truly was.
I stood just outside the doors, tucked in the shadows, the sharp scent of pine and champagne mixing in the cool night air.
My hand hovered over the brass handle. My heart pounded in my chest, not from nerves, but from fear. A tight, aching dread I couldn’t shake.
I shouldn’t be here.
But I had no choice.
I was here for one reason and one reason only.
Iris.
My daughter. My whole world. She turned three today.
And she was dying.
The doctors had been blunt. The venom in her system had spread too fast. Her body was fragile, weakened by countless hospital visits and a lifetime of struggling just to breathe.
They said it would take a miracle for her to survive the night, let alone the surgery.
When I asked what she wanted for her birthday, she didn’t ask for toys or cake. She didn’t even ask for me.
She asked for him.
Aiden. Her father.
My husband. My chosen mate of three years. The man who hadn’t visited his daughter in weeks. The man whose love I had once clung to like oxygen.
The man who had drifted so far, he might as well have been a stranger.
I told myself I’d keep it brief. I’d say what needed to be said and leave, with no emotions at all.
But I couldn’t help hoping. Just a little. Just for Iris’s sake.
I opened the door just enough to step in but froze.
He wasn’t alone.
There, beside him, stood Haven.
Her beautiful hair shimmered beneath the ballroom lights, cascading in soft waves that framed her delicate, smug smile.
Her body leaned into Aiden’s like she was born to be in that space, her hand tracing lightly along the arm of his suit jacket a bit too familiar, casual and intimate.
She wore a velvet-red dress that clung to her like it had been sewn on her skin, every movement effortless, elegant.
She looked like Luna. In fact, she looked like his Luna.
Because in some twisted, fated way… she was.
Haven wasn’t just his best friend, she was his true mate. His destined one. The match nature had chosen for him.
And I? I was the stand-in. The woman who filled the space when fate hadn’t yet made its move.
They didn’t see me in the doorway. They were too absorbed in each other. Too caught in their shared orbit.
“It still baffles me,” Haven said, her voice low and flirtatious, “why you settled for an omega. You always had better options and you still do.”
The words slid into me like ice.
She wasn’t even trying to be subtle. She didn’t have to be. She knew exactly where she stood.
I didn’t move. I couldn’t. My body was frozen, every nerve listening.
Aiden's laughter was soft, low and familiar. The sound used to comfort me but now it burned.
“Sometimes,” he said, “I wonder if I only married her because she kind of looks like you.”
My breath caught.
He wasn’t done.
“But she gave me a daughter,” he added with a casual shrug. “That’s one of the reasons I haven’t walked away.”
I felt the floor sway beneath me.
Every muscle in my body tensed as I clenched my fists, nails digging into my palms. My wolf stirred beneath my skin, pacing, snarling, wounded.
“She loves you?” Haven asked with a lazy smile. “Or did she just see a chance to climb the ranks? Omegas are good at playing the victim.”
“I’ve never really thought about it,” Aiden replied, his voice far too relaxed for what he was saying. “She loves me, I think. But…”
“But you don’t love her,” Haven said, finishing the sentence with an air of certainty.
He didn’t confirm.
He didn’t deny.
He just… didn’t answer.
That silence hit harder than any admission. That silence screamed the truth.
To him, I wasn’t his mate. I was a mistake he couldn’t quite erase. A passing decision that came with lasting consequences.
But none of them knew who I really was.
I wasn’t just an omega.
I was Rue Hawthorne , daughter of Alpha Cyrus, heir to the Blood Claw Pack, one of the most powerful bloodlines in the region.
Our pack was ancient, strategic, dangerous. I’d been raised for politics, for war and for control.
I’d walked away from all of it.
To avoid an arranged mating, I ran. I gave up my title, my name, everything I had. I hid among strangers, took on a new identity, and built a quiet life in the Half Moon Pack.
When Aiden found me, I thought I had been saved.
He offered kindness when I had nothing. I mistook that kindness for love.
I fell for him. Hard.
One night, during my first heat, when instincts override logic, we gave in. The bond wasn’t fated. It wasn’t even planned.
But it happened. And when his father discovered it, Aiden was forced to take responsibility.
He did the right thing. And we mated.
I carried Iris from that night. A child born of instinct and consequence.
And I loved her more than life itself.
I told myself Aiden would learn to love me. That over time, our bond would grow. That maybe we’d rewrite fate.
But his eyes always wandered. His heart never followed mine. Even before the truth about Haven came out, I saw how he looked at her.
Like she was the moon and I was just a shadow.
I swallowed down the pain and stepped forward, shoving open the doors. The full force of the music hit me. Laughter. Lights. Champagne. The smell of perfume and polished status.
Aiden turned toward the disturbance. His expression twisted into a frown of annoyance, like I was an interruption to a perfect evening.
“What are you doing here?” he asked, voice flat.
He looked perfect, as always. Black tailored suit hugging his broad frame, hair swept back with meticulous ease. His eyes, once so warm, now felt like winter.
I ignored the tone. Focused on why I came.
“Iris’s condition has worsened,” I said, forcing the words past the lump in my throat. “She needs you. She might not…”
I couldn’t say it.
His expression didn’t change. He glanced at Haven. Then adjusted his cufflinks.
Like I hadn’t just told him our daughter might not survive the night.
“She asked for you,” I continued, my voice trembling. “All she wants is to see you. Please. She thinks the world of you.”
He exhaled slowly, like I’d asked him to sacrifice something sacred.
His eyes drifted back to Haven.
No urgency, panic or care.
“Aiden…”
He brushed past me without a word.
He didn’t stop nor look back.
Haven followed behind, lips curled into a victorious smile.
I stood there, frozen, the noise of the party swelling around me. It felt like I couldn’t breathe.
He didn’t care.
Not about me. Not even about Iris.
My wolf screamed inside me, tearing against the walls of my heart.
He was never mine.
And now, he was barely hers.
My phone buzzed in my hand.
I blinked back the tears and answered.
“Hello?”
“Mrs. Barrett,” the doctor said, voice urgent. “It’s Iris. She’s taken a turn. She’s not breathing on her own. We need you at the hospital immediately.”
The world cracked open.
“I’m on my way,” I choked.
I turned and ran, bursting out of the hall.
Rue’s POVPercy went and sat on his seat, without any single word spoken. He held his head on the palm of his hand then turned to me with a slight smile.“I’m sorry,” he said, “ she really made me mad.”“She is just being jealous, pay no attention to her.” I saidJust then, I got a ping on my phone. Messages rushed through the pack network faster than any formal report ever could. Someone had dug into Percy's past with cruelty and dragged his father's death back into the open, as spectacle.They spoke of his father’s murder like it was a story meant to entertain.They spoke of his wolf pelt. How it was sold and displayed, bartered like meat.I felt it the i
Aiden’s POVI ran without thinking, my boots striking the hospital floor frantically. For one moment, I was certain that it was Rue. But when I reached the end of the corridor and the figure turned, the illusion shattered instantly.Only a stranger’s eyes met mine, startled and confused. The hope that had surged through me collapsed, leaving behind this life I was trapped in. I stood there longer than necessary, breathing through the disappointment.Percy’s POVThere were mixed reactions when Rue walked into the Post-Mutation Advanced Academy as an instructor. Everyone affiliated to me knew she deserved the position, her resilience, hard work and experience in combating mutated wolves was unmatched.In addition to that, she had survived things nobody thought she would, and that made her a better choice for an instructor.But other people hated the fact that she was made an instructor, they were outright unhappy about it.One of them was bold enough to admit it out loud and silently.
Haven’s POVI stormed out. I could not breathe in that tent. His voice, his rage, it pressed in on me, suffocating. I needed air. I needed distance from him.I didn’t hear the footsteps behind me at first. Then…“Mommy!”I turned too late.Blue was running toward me, her small legs pumping desperately, her face pale with fear.“Stop!” I screamed.The world slowed as a horn blared. Brakes screeched, and then………The hospital lights burned my eyes when we entered. Blue was rushed past me on a gurney, her small body swallowed by white sheets and frantic hands. I tried to follow, but someone grabbed my remaining arm, holding me back as the doors to the operating room slammed shut.I collapsed onto the bench outside the operating room, my knees giving way as if they had been hollowed out. My chest convulsed violently, breath tearing in and out of me in broken fragments. This wasn’t supposed to happen. She was the only proof that I mattered. She was my daughter.The minutes dragged on lik
Haven’s POVI dressed Blue carefully that morning. Her little coat was buttoned wrong the first time, then fixed. My hands shook as I smoothed her hair, the motion mechanical, rehearsed, as though repetition could erase the dread coiled beneath my ribs.“Remember what Mommy said,” I told her, crouching to her level.She nodded, wide-eyed.“Don’t talk about colors,” I said. “Not to your teacher. Not to your friends.”Her brow furrowed. “Why?”“Because,” I answered too quickly, then softened my voice, “because some things are private, okay? Tell them it's private.”She hesitated, then nodded again.Children were obedient when they were afraid. That thought comforted me more than it should have.As we walked toward the kindergarten gate, I felt the familiar weight of stares pressing into my back. Some people did not bother to hide their contempt anymore. Others smiled too politely, eyes lingering on my sleeve, empty where an arm used to be.Crippled Luna.That was what they called me whe
Rue’s POVThe car idled quietly on the snow-drowned road, the heater humming softly, struggling against the cold that had followed us from the grave. His hands rested on the steering wheel, but he did not drive. He stared straight ahead, as if the darkness beyond the windshield held answers he had never dared to ask.“Today,” he said at last, “is the anniversary of my father’s death.”I turned toward him, my heart tightening. There was something exposed in the way he said it, as if naming the day itself reopened a wound that had never truly closed.“My mother used to say I should become a doctor,” Percy continued. “She said I had the brains for it.”His lips curved faintly, but the expression never reached his eyes.“She believed healing was a calling. That it ran in our blood.” “But I couldn’t,” Percy said.He exhaled, a breath that trembled despite his efforts to steady it.“Every time I touched medical books, every time I walked past a hospital, all I could see was blood on the fl
Rue’s POVBy the time the videos finished spreading, there was nowhere left for Haven to hide. I did not need to see them to know how thoroughly they had ruined her. Screens across the nation replayed the same frozen frames again and again.News outlets pretended it was about public safety. Social commentators framed it as a moral lesson. Strangers dissected her downfall with enthusiasm.But I knew the truth. This was execution by exposure.When I watched the clip, what I felt instead was a deep, almost chilling clarity. Haven had always believed herself untouchable, insulated by her status, by proximity to power, by the role she played so convincingly. Seeing her reduced to a spectacle felt less like revenge and more like inevitability.“This is just the first gift,” Percy said quietly beside me.Percy’s voice was calm, measured, as if he were explaining a medical procedure rather than the dismantling of a human life.“There are worse things than prison,” he continued. “Social death







