Chapter 3

Chapter 3 — The Bond That Breaks

The room is quiet except for the soft thud of my suitcase closing.

I stare at the open drawers, the empty shelves. Everything looks hollow, like my chest.

I fold my last dress slowly, carefully, because if I move too fast I might start crying.

The night air slips through the window, cool and sharp.

I’m leaving.

The word feels heavy, but it’s the only thing that makes sense.

I’ve spent years in this room waiting for love to bloom out of silence. It never did.

The door opens.

Kael steps in.

His scent hits me first—cedar and rain. It used to make me feel safe.

Now it just reminds me of everything I’m trying to forget.

“Elara,” he says quietly. “Where are you going?”

I don’t turn. “Away.”

He sighs. “Don’t start. I came to apologize.”

I zip the bag and finally face him. His eyes look tired, softer than before.

“I didn’t mean to slap you,” he says. “You made me angry, that’s all. If you’d just done what I asked, it wouldn’t have happened.”

I let out a dry laugh. “So it’s my fault again.”

His jaw tightens. “I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t have to.”

He runs a hand through his hair, like he’s the one hurting. “Elara, behave. Don’t make this harder. I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

I shrug. “Do whatever you want.”

He blinks, maybe realizing for the first time that I mean it. But before he can speak again, there’s a knock at the door.

Lyra walks in, holding her arm close to her chest. She’s wearing a silk robe and an expression made of perfect pain. “I’m sorry to disturb you,” she says softly, “but it’s cold tonight. My arm aches. I can’t sleep.”

Kael’s face changes instantly. Panic. Concern.

He moves to her. “Should I call the pack doctor? Does it hurt that much?”

She nods weakly. “It throbs. I’m afraid it might get infected.”

I watch him fuss over her, his hands gentle, his voice low.

Something burns in my chest—not jealousy, not anymore. Just realization.

When I had my appendix removed, he never visited once.

When I came home, pale and aching, he handed me papers to sign and asked if dinner was ready.

And now a scratch, a tiny healed line, is enough to keep him awake at night.

I used to tell myself he didn’t know how to love. That maybe no one had ever taught him how to care.

That small lie kept me alive for seven years.

But looking at him now, kneeling beside her, whispering softly, I understand.

He knows how. He just never wanted to learn for me.

Lyra tilts her head, her voice trembling. “Could you… stay with me tonight? Only if Elara doesn’t mind, of course.”

Kael glances back, as if waiting for my blessing.

I smile faintly. “Why would I mind?”

He nods, relieved, and sweeps her into his arms. “You heard her,” he says with a half-smile. “She understands.”

I almost laugh. Understands what?

That love is selective? That devotion can be disposable?

He walks to the door with Lyra in his arms. At the threshold he pauses. “We’ll talk tomorrow,” he says.

I nod. “Sure.”

The door closes.

For a moment I just stand there, staring at the space he left behind.

Then I sink onto the bed. My hands are shaking.

A small voice breaks the silence.

“Mom?”

I look up. Ethan stands at the doorway, rubbing his eyes.

“Come in, sweetheart,” I say softly. “It’s late.”

He steps in but doesn’t move toward me. “I’ll sleep with Dad tonight,” he mutters. “He needs help taking care of Auntie Lyra.”

I stare at him, unable to speak. “Ethan, she’s fine. You should sleep here.”

He shakes his head. “Dad said she’s hurt. I want to help.”

There’s no anger left in me, just a hollow ache. “Go then,” I whisper. “Do what you want.”

He hesitates for a second, then runs out.

The door closes again, and this time the silence feels complete.

It’s just me, my suitcase, and a heart that finally stopped believing.

I sit for a long while, staring at the family portraits on the wall—smiling faces frozen in lies.

Kael, Ethan, me. We look perfect there, untouched.

I trace the edge of the frame with my finger, wondering when exactly the picture stopped being real.

Maybe it never was.

---

Hours pass before my phone vibrates on the nightstand.

A message from my assistant, Mira.

Mira:You need to see this, Luna.

A link follows.

I click it.

The screen lights up with a live broadcast—pack members, journalists, fans, thousands of viewers flooding the chat.

The title reads: **“Alpha Kael Makes a Surprising Announcement!”**

My stomach drops.

The video shows the main hall downstairs. Kael stands on the stage, arm around Lyra. Ethan sits in front, grinning.

Reporters cheer. Cameras flash.

Lyra waves shyly, the perfect victim turned heroine.

Kael’s voice booms through the speakers:

> “There have been rumors tonight. I want to make things clear.”

He looks down at Lyra with a smile I’ve never seen directed at me.

> “This woman stood by me when others didn’t. She’s carrying my pup. She will be my chosen Luna.”

Applause.

Laughter.

Cheers that slice through my heart.

I can’t breathe.

On the screen, Lyra leans into him. He brushes her hair back, baring her neck.

The crowd erupts as he bends down.

I whisper, “No…”

Then he marks her.

The bond snaps inside me like a torn thread.

A white-hot pain floods my body, spreading from my chest to my veins, to my bones.

I fall to my knees. The phone clatters to the floor.

Every nerve burns. Every heartbeat feels like fire.

My wolf howls inside me—broken, rejected.

Tears spill before I can stop them.

Through the ringing in my ears, I hear the crowd cheering louder.

I see Ethan jumping up, clapping, smiling.

The world blurs.

He marks her again, sealing it, and the light inside me shatters.

It’s not just heartbreak—it’s punishment.

The Moon Goddess doesn’t forgive broken bonds.

When a mate marks another, the first bond dies painfully, cruelly.

I press my hand against my heart, but the pain only deepens.

Memories flash in quick bursts—our wedding, our first full moon together, Ethan’s first cry, every moment I thought meant something.

I collapse onto the floor.

Through the haze, one last thought drifts through my mind:

He could love. He could care. He just never chose me.

The darkness swallows everything after that.