Chapter 1

I lay alone in the hospital bed, a ripping pain in my gut.

The doctor’s words echoed in my head: “I’m sorry, we lost the pup. But you're stable now. You’re young, Miss Isadora. You’ll have other chances.”

I had no tears left to cry.

My tiny, two-month-old pup was gone, without me ever getting the chance to meet them.

A nurse asked me, “Should I call any family?”

Family?

Did she mean Bruce? The man who was tangled up with another woman while I was fighting for my life?

Just then, my phone rang. It was the Luna of the Silvermoon Pack—my birth mother.

She was even more thrilled and decisive than I’d expected. “Of course, sweetie. If it wasn't for Seraphina's mother—that venomous Omega who switched her own pup with you at birth—we never would have lost all these years! I’ll make them pay.”

“In one week, I’ll hold a grand ceremony for your return. The entire North American werewolf community will know you are the true Silvermoon heiress.”

“As for the alliance, Julian, the Alpha heir of the Shadow Ridge Pack, is young, capable, and powerful. If you’re willing, I’ll arrange a meeting at once.”

I answered in a low voice, “Okay, Mom. Whatever you say.”

“But about the return ceremony… let’s not tell Seraphina just yet.”

Just then, another message popped up.

It was Seraphina.

I could feel her smug smirk through the screen.

“How does it feel to have your dreams crushed, Isadora? Let me tell you something else. A month ago, while you were sick, he was in my bed. He said you're lifeless in bed, that only I can unleash the animal in him.”

“Oh, and today’s attack was just a warning. If you don’t learn your place and stay away from Bruce, next time it’ll be more than a few scratches.”

My fingertips trembled. A chill that cut to the bone spread through me.

So the rogue attack today wasn’t an accident.

She did this. She killed my child.

I clicked on the image she’d sent. It was a photo of her and Bruce tangled in bedsheets, time-stamped from the night a month ago when I had a raging fever.

I’d been alone in our apartment, so sick I passed out. When I woke up, Bruce told me he’d been handling urgent pack business.

So this was his “urgent business.”

My heart felt like it was bleeding, but my face was a mask of calm. I even had the presence of mind to screenshot the evidence.

I opened Seraphina’s video again.

After she and Bruce shared a deep kiss, his pack members clapped and cheered for their “touching” love story.

“Alpha waited eight years for Miss Seraphina! They’re finally together!”

“An Alpha and a powerful Alpha’s daughter—a perfect match!”

At their words, Seraphina nestled shyly into Bruce’s arms.

Tears fell from my eyes again.

For eight whole years, all his pack members knew about Seraphina, while I, his fated mate, was a ghost.

How could I have been so foolish to think he ever loved me?

My gaze fell back to the glaring tattoo on Bruce’s wrist.

The small, delicate script of “Isadora” was gone, replaced by a bold, fresh “Seraphina.”

I remembered what he’d said eight years ago when he got it. “Isadora, even if I can’t make us public, my body will always remember that you are my fated mate. This mark is the proof.”

“Trust me, the day my pack is strong enough, I will proudly announce you to everyone!”

Fated mate.

What a joke.

Turns out his “permanent mark” could be rewritten at any time, and his “fated mate” could be replaced just as easily.

As I was drowning in my pain, the hospital room door creaked open.

Bruce walked in holding a bouquet of moonflowers and a small cake. He wore the same gentle smile I used to love, acting as if nothing had happened.

“Happy eighth anniversary, Isadora.” He sat by the bed, his voice soft. “I have a surprise for you. Sorry I’m late, I had to deal with some pack business.”

I just stared at him, as if he were a stranger.

He still didn’t know I had just lost our child.

He saw my pale face and his expression filled with concern. “Is it from the accident? Are you still hurting? Tell me.”

I said nothing.

My phone screen was still open to Seraphina’s post.

Bruce glanced down, and his face shifted.

He took the phone from my hand. “Don’t look at that.”