Paman Mafia, Mari Kita Bercerai

The bond burned before the words were spoken.

Elara felt it flare under her skin, sharp and wrong, like a warning she refused to hear. The moon hung full and bright above the Silver Fang Pack hall, washing the stone courtyard in pale light. Wolves filled every space, dressed in ceremonial colors, voices buzzing with excitement. Tonight was important. Everyone knew it.

She stood where she had always stood, three steps behind Alpha Kael’s throne, hands folded, spine straight. Calm. Composed. That was how a future Luna was meant to look.

She told herself not to hope too loudly. Hope had disappointed her before.

Still, tonight felt different. The air felt charged. Elders whispered. Warriors smiled at her with knowing looks. Some nodded in approval, others with envy. Elara caught fragments of their words as they passed.

“It’s finally time.”

“She’s endured long enough.”

“The bond doesn’t lie.”

Elara’s lips curved into a small, careful smile. She had waited years for this moment. Years of standing beside Kael while he ruled. Years of sleeping alone despite the bond tying their souls together. Years of being present, useful, invisible.

Tonight, all of that was supposed to change.

The drums fell silent.

Alpha Kael stepped forward.

The courtyard stilled at once, as if the pack itself held its breath. Kael looked every bit the Alpha he had been raised to be. Tall. Broad-shouldered. His dark hair was pulled back, his expression carved from stone. Power clung to him like a second skin.

He did not look at Elara.

That was not unusual. Kael rarely did. He addressed the pack, his voice carrying easily across the open space.

“Silver Fang stands at the edge of a new chapter.”

A cheer rose. Elara’s heart beat faster.

“Our strength depends on unity,” Kael continued. “On alliances that secure our future.”

Something twisted low in Elara’s chest. She told herself it was nerves.

“Tonight,” Kael said, “I name the woman who will stand beside me as Luna.”

The cheer broke into applause. Elara inhaled slowly. This was it.

Kael turned.

Not toward her.

He extended his hand toward the left side of the courtyard.

“Elara Vale,” he said.

The name struck like a slap.

For a heartbeat, Elara thought she had misheard. The world tilted. Sounds blurred. Her ears rang as another woman stepped forward, graceful and smiling, dark hair shining under the moonlight.

Lyra Vale.

The applause came late, scattered at first, then louder as confusion gave way to obedience. Elara did not clap. She could not move.

Lyra walked to Kael’s side, her smile trembling with triumph. Kael placed a hand over hers. The gesture was intimate. Final.

Elara waited.

She waited for Kael to say her name.

She waited for him to turn, to explain, to do something that made this make sense.

He did none of those things.

“The pack welcomes its future Luna,” Kael said, his voice steady.

That was all.

No rejection. No announcement of a broken bond. No acknowledgment of the woman who stood behind him, bound to him by fate itself.

He did not look at Elara even once.

The bond screamed.

It was not the sharp pain she had imagined. It was worse. It was a hollow tearing, as if something essential was being torn into nothingness.

Whispers erupted around her.

“She’s still here.”

“What about the bond?”

“Did the Alpha just?”

Elara’s legs locked. Her fingers curled into her palms. She felt every gaze turn toward her, curious, pitying, relieved it was not them.

Lyra glanced back, her eyes flicking over Elara with something close to satisfaction before she turned back to Kael.

Elara understood then.

Kael had not rejected her because rejecting her would have required acknowledging her.

Ignoring her was easier.

She stepped back.

The movement was small, but it broke something. A few wolves noticed. Murmurs grew louder.

“She’s leaving.”

“She isn’t crying.”

Elara walked away from the courtyard without rushing. She kept her head high. Her back is straight. Every step felt like wading through fire.

She did not look back.

Inside the pack hall, the noise faded, replaced by ringing silence. Elara pressed a hand against the wall, breathing hard. Her chest felt tight, her throat raw.

She had known Kael was distant. She had known he valued power above comfort. But some foolish part of her had believed the bond meant something. That it would matter when it counted.

It hadn’t.

Her room felt too small. Too quiet. She shut the door and leaned against it, sliding down until she sat on the floor.

The bond pulsed weakly now, like a wounded thing.

“Elara,” a voice whispered inside her mind, faint and distant.

Not Kael’s.

Her wolf.

She swallowed hard. “I know,” she whispered aloud.

The night dragged on. Celebration sounds echoed faintly from the courtyard. Laughter. Music. Lyra’s laughter.

Elara rose and moved to the mirror. The woman staring back at her looked the same as she always had. Pale skin. Dark hair braided neatly. Silver eyes that gave nothing away.

She looked like a Luna.

She had been treated like nothing.

A sharp wave of nausea hit her without warning.

Elara turned just in time, gripping the edge of the basin as her stomach clenched. She retched, gasping, cold sweat breaking out across her skin.

When it passed, she sagged against the basin, heart pounding.

That was strange.

She had felt sick before. Stress did that. But this felt different. Deeper.

Another wave rolled through her, and this time, the pain bloomed low in her belly, dull and persistent.

Elara froze.

“No,” she whispered.

Her hands trembled as she pressed them against her stomach. The bond flickered faintly, reacting to something else. Something new.

Memories surfaced. Missed moons. Unusual exhaustion. Sensitivity she had brushed aside.

Her breath came fast.

She sank onto the bed, staring at her hands as understanding crept in, slow and merciless.

This was not just heartbreak.

This was life.

Outside, the pack celebrated a future that did not include her.

Inside, Elara felt her world shift in a way she could not undo.

Tears finally came, silent and hot, sliding down her temples into her hair. She did not sob. She did not scream.

She lay there, staring at the ceiling, as the truth settled into her bones.

She was carrying the Alpha’s child.

And tonight, she had been erased.

The pain returned, sharper now, curling through her abdomen. Elara curled onto her side, one hand clutching her stomach, the other covering her mouth to keep from making a sound.

“I won’t let them hurt you,” she whispered to the life growing inside her. “I promise.”

The bond pulsed faintly, unanswered.

Elara pressed her hand to her stomach and understood why the pain felt different.