Chapter 2

Dylan came in holding a large bouquet of Moonshadow Orchids—rare flowers that symbolized “one true love” in the werewolf world.

He was frowning, looking agitated. “Who were you on the phone with?”

I looked away, my face a calm mask. “No one. Just an invitation to a party in three days.”

Dylan’s expression relaxed; he didn’t question my excuse.

His usual gentle smile returned as he tried to press the flowers into my hands. “I picked these for you from deep in the forest. Do you like them?”

I stared at the flowers, the irony a bitter taste in my mouth.

Hours ago, he had put a Luna necklace on another woman, and now he was here, trying to appease me with flowers symbolizing “one true love.”

“Sylvia, I know you have questions.” Dylan set the flowers down and sat beside me, reaching to put his arm around my shoulder. “Just let me explain—”

“Explain what?” I reined in my emotions, keeping my voice steady. “Explain why I had to find out you had a Luna by watching a livestream? Or why it wasn’t me?”

“Lilith is sick,” he said, his tone firm. “Moon-Eater’s sickness. Have you heard of it?”

Moon-Eater’s sickness was a rare disease. The victim’s wolf slowly breaks down, driving them mad until they turn Feral—a mindless monster, neither wolf nor human.

“The Black Forest healers said the only cure is to complete the mating bond with a powerful Alpha, to use the bond’s life-force to stabilize her.” Dylan took my hands, his gaze sincere. “Her father saved my father’s life. I owe them a life debt. It was his dying wish. I can’t let her die.”

“And what about me?”

“It’s only temporary, baby.” He tilted my chin up, forcing me to look at him. “Once her condition stabilizes—three months, max—you’ll take your rightful place as my Luna. You’ll still be my woman. Nothing will change.”

Nothing will change?

I scoffed internally.

“The official bonding ceremony is in three days,” Dylan continued. “It’s pack tradition. But don’t worry, it’s just a formality. My heart is always with you.”

He seemed to grasp onto my earlier lie, a look of relief on his face. “Since you have that party, it’s fine if you don’t come.”

Three days from now.

Exactly when I planned to leave.

“Okay,” I nodded. “I understand.”

Dylan was clearly stunned by my reaction.

“You’re… not mad?” he asked tentatively.

Any other time, I would have lost it with jealousy if another she-wolf even looked his way. I would cry and rage and make him swear to keep his distance.

But now, he was telling me he was taking another mate, and all I did was nod.

“What good would getting angry do?” I forced a smile. “Like you said, you’re saving a life, not betraying me.”

I told myself it was better not to make a scene before I left for good.

Dylan studied me for a few seconds, then smiled, relieved. “I knew my Sylvia was the most understanding. I’ll need to stay with Lilith for a while, but I’ll make time to see you.”

His hand began to wander, his lips moving toward my ear. “Before I go, want me to help stabilize your mark? You know how it’ll ache if we're apart for too long…”

His breath washed over me, carrying the foreign scent of jasmine—Lilith’s scent. Bile rose in my throat.

“No, thanks.” I turned my head, dodging his kiss. “You should go. Lilith needs you.”

“Sylvia?” Dylan frowned, his hand hovering in mid-air. “What’s this about?”

I had never refused him.

After a beat, he stood up, his voice laced with anger.

“Fine. Have it your way. I was going to spend time with you, but if you don’t need me, I’m leaving. Lilith needs someone.”

The door slammed shut.

The apartment fell into a dead silence.

I touched my cheek and felt moisture. I hadn’t even realized I was crying.

But it was just the temporary mark, rebelling against the separation.

That's what I told myself.

In two days, it would fade completely.

I started packing, throwing every gift Dylan had given me into the trash, including the ruby necklace.

The only thing I took was my perfumer’s kit.

It had been my dream in college, a dream I had put on hold for six years.

The moment I closed the door, a dull ache radiated from the mark on my neck—my body protesting.

But I didn’t care anymore.