Chapter 6

Ian

The dungeon air was damp and thick with the metallic bite of silver. Torches flickered weakly along the rough stone walls as I descended the narrow steps, my boots echoing sharply in the silence. Yara had been rotting down here for two days, and still some small, foolish part of me expected to feel regret, hesitation, or maybe even a flicker of the love I once felt.

But I felt nothing.

I stopped in front of her cell. Yara sat slumped against the far wall like a broken doll, her once-beautiful silver gown torn and filthy, her long hair matted and tangled. When she lifted her head and saw me, those familiar eyes that used to look at me with such pure devotion were now filled with desperate, fragile hope.

“Ian…” Her voice cracked, barely more than a whisper. “Why are you doing this to me? You know me better than anyone. I would never hurt an unborn child. Mira is lying. I swear on the Moon Goddess—”

“Enough.” I gripped the silver bars, my voice cold and flat. “I’m not here to listen to your lies.”

She staggered to her feet, gripping the bars with trembling hands, her knuckles white. “Why won’t you believe me? She staged it, Ian. Please… it’s so cold and dark down here. Just let me go. I promise I’ll never go near her again. I’ll stay out of your way—”

“Of course you won’t,” I cut her off, my tone empty. “Prepare to receive your sentence in the morning.”

Tears spilled down her dirty cheeks. The sight should have moved me. It didn’t.

“Are you really doing this, Ian?” Her voice broke completely. “We’ve been together for three years. Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”

I looked at her for a long moment, letting the silence stretch until it became painful.

“No,” I said simply. “It doesn’t.”

Her face crumpled. The last light in her eyes died right in front of me.

“Fine then,” she whispered, turning away as fresh sobs shook her shoulders. “Get out of here. I never want to see you again.”

Although she was only an omega, Yara had always been incredibly strong — stronger than most omegas had any right to be. That raw power was exactly why I had gone against every tradition and accepted the mate bond with her in the first place. I hadn’t just loved her. I had loved her strength. It made me feel unstoppable having such a powerful Luna by my side.

But now that same strength was a threat.

I nodded once and turned to leave. As I reached the top of the stairs, I paused. One of the guards handed me the prepared white veil soaked in wolfsbane extract. I covered my nose and mouth with it, then gave the signal.

Thick smoke began pouring into her cell from vents hidden in the walls — heavy, metallic, and bitter.

“What did you do?!” Yara screamed behind me, her voice rising in terror. “Ian!”

“Preparing you for your punishment,” I said, my voice cold and final as the lock on her cell clicked shut. “Goodbye, Yara.”

Her screams grew weaker, choked by coughs as the wolfsbane filled the air. I heard her wolf whimpering inside her, terrified and weakening. Her body hit the floor with a dull thud.

I stood there a few moments longer, listening to her desperate, fading gasps, then walked away without looking back.

The Next Morning — Central Courtyard

The entire pack had gathered under a grey sky. Yara was dragged out from the dungeons, weak, filthy, and barely able to stand after a night of wolfsbane poisoning. The white porcelain bowl waited on a small table before the raised platform where I stood with Mira at my side.

I watched without emotion as the guards forced her to her knees in front of the bowl.

Yara looked up at me one last time, tears cutting tracks through the dirt on her face. There was no fight left in her eyes — only shattered pain.

The pack was silent as she lifted the bowl with trembling hands. The dark liquid swirled inside.

Within the blink of an eye, the white porcelain bowl slipped from her fingers and shattered on the courtyard stones. She convulsed once, twice, then went completely still. Her silver hair spilled across the ground like spilled moonlight.

I felt nothing but a cold sense of finality.

For three years she had been by my side — beautiful, loyal, and utterly disappointing. She couldn’t even give me the one thing that mattered: an heir. Month after month, year after year of empty hope and excuses about the Moon Goddess’s timing. And now, the one time Mira got pregnant after a single night, Yara had tried to kill the child out of pure jealousy.

Mira’s voice rang out clearly beside me. “My Alpha… how should we proceed with her corpse?”

I didn’t even hesitate.

“Dump her deep in the forest,” I said, my voice loud and firm so the entire pack could hear. “Let the wild beasts and vultures feast on her body. She deserves no honor. No pyre. Erase the barren Luna completely.”

Mira’s cold, triumphant smile flashed for the briefest moment before she composed herself. “As you command, my Alpha.”