Chapter 19

Damian stares at me, jaw slack, as if the words haven’t fully registered yet. Behind him, Rosalina begins to cry—soft, trembling sobs, timed just perfectly with my outburst. Her shoulders quake delicately.

Of course.

Lucian slips through the stunned crowd, eyes scanning between us. Without hesitation, he places a hand on Rosalina’s back and gently steers her in, folding her into his chest like some wounded bird.

I scoff. Loud enough for him to hear it.

My movements are slow. Intentional. I lift my left hand, letting the light catch on the ring now adorning it—sharp, golden, and impossible to miss. A murmur builds around us, the air thick with unease.

“I’ve found someone,” I say clearly, voice ringing over the music that now feels far too soft for the tension in the room. “Someone who actually values me. Who won’t throw me aside at the first tear from a pretty blonde stranger.”

Gasps ripple through the crowd. I don’t need to look to know they’re searching, eyes darting between unmated alphas, trying to guess who it could be. From the corner of my eye, I catch Dereck’s face darken with fury.

Good.

The sight of the ring seems to finally shake Damian out of his stupor. His eyes snap to my hand, and something wild flickers there. Rage. Hurt. Possession.

“What the fuck is this?” he growls.

He grabs my wrist, hard, yanking me toward him to get a better look at the ring. Pain spikes through my arm, and I hiss, trying to pull away—but his grip only tightens, bruising.

“Let go,” I snap, struggling.

But he doesn’t. His face is twisted, too close, his breath sharp and uneven. There's a dangerous light in his eyes—the one that belongs more to the wolf than the man. Storm, Damian’s wolf, is close to the surface, trembling beneath Damian’s skin, just waiting to tear loose.

I raise my mental walls, steady and cold, sealing Corneille behind another layer of ice before the bond can pull her into the storm.

“You think you can just replace us?” Damian snarls. “Find someone better, just like that?”

I bare my teeth, yanking at my arm again. “It wouldn’t take much, would it? You’ve barely looked at me since she slithered into our lives.”

Damian’s jaw twitches. Behind him, Rosalina steps forward, her voice soft and trembling with faux sincerity.

“Oh, Nara, I—I’m so sorry. If I knew I was hurting you this badly, I would’ve left. Truly. I never meant to come between you and your mates…”

I stop struggling just long enough to fix her with a glare that could freeze fire.

“Save the performance,” I hiss. “This isn’t about you.”

I take a breath, low and lethal.

“You’re a parasite, Rosalina. That’s all you’ve ever been.”

Her lip trembles. But she doesn’t speak.

The slap comes out of nowhere.

The sound detonates like thunder, louder than anything in the ballroom. My head snaps to the side, a flash of white in my vision as heat explodes across my cheek. For a second, I can’t move—can’t breathe.

Damian stands in front of me, breathing hard, eyes wide and unblinking.

His hand is still raised.

Silas steps between us in a single, fluid movement.

His hand snaps up and catches Damian’s wrist mid-air, stopping the next blow inches from my face.

“Forgive the interruption, Alpha Damian,” he says, voice smooth as velvet, that ever-present smile curling his lips. “But I can’t just stand by and let you strike my wife.”

The word hits like a gunshot.

Damian freezes. Lucian stares, stunned into silence.

Silas releases Damian’s wrist, then steps behind me with effortless ease, wrapping an arm around my waist. His touch is steady. Protective. Claiming.

Damian lets go of my arm, too shocked to hold on. Silas catches it before it falls, brushing gentle fingers over the bruising skin with a softness that makes my throat tighten.

“My darling,” he murmurs, just for me, “I’m sorry I didn’t get to you sooner.”

I square my shoulders and lift my chin. Turning to him, I let a flicker of true gratitude soften my features. “It’s alright, Silas. Thank you.”

The silence around us crackles.

Then—

“Who the fuck is that?”

Lucian’s voice cuts through the tension like a blade. He’s moved closer, completely ignoring Rosalina now, his usual calm shattered. His face is twisted in disbelief and something worse: the petty rage of a man who thinks what’s his has been stolen.

“This,” I say coolly, bringing Silas’s left hand up to my lips. I press a soft kiss to his palm, making sure the room sees the ring gleaming on his finger, “is my new chosen mate. Silas NightCrow.”

The name detonates through the ballroom like lightning.

Gasps. Murmurs. Even a few strangled screams. Chairs scrape back. Eyes widen.

Everyone knows that name. And what it means.

Damian snarls, his lips curling back as the red begins to bleed into his irises. His wolf is close—too close.

Lucian isn’t much better. He looks like he’s forgotten how to breathe.

“NightCrow?” he hisses, fists clenched. Around him, the soldiers stiffen, some stepping forward, baring their teeth. Tension coils in the air like a drawn bow.

I lift my chin. Unshaken.

“Yes,” I say simply, then glance at the soldiers, all teeth and bravado. “Silas is my guest. I invited him personally. No one lays a hand on him while he’s under my roof.”

I turn my gaze back to the men who once shared my bed. My heart.

“And yes. NightCrow.” My voice hardens. “Is that a problem?”

Lucian takes another step forward, his anger radiating in waves. He’s close—too close. But Silas’s arm tightens around me, and a low growl rises from his chest. I feel it rumble against my spine, grounding me.

Lucian halts.

“You know who the NightCrows are,” he says, venom lacing every syllable. “They’re not welcome in Moonlit territory.”

I stare him down. “As far as I’m aware, I’m still the Luna of this pack. Not for long, maybe—but for now, my word is final.”

And then I let the weight of my fury bleed into my voice.

“Not that it matters. We don’t intend to stay.”

“What do you mean?” Damian demands, voice low, laced with disbelief.

“I mean I’m leaving,” I say, loud enough for the room to hear. “As soon as the bond is broken, I will leave the Moonlit pack with Silas... and take my place as Luna of the NightCrows.”

Gasps ripple through the crowd.

I shift my gaze to Rosalina, and offer her a slow, sweet smile. “And you can have my title. Who better to be Luna of the Moonlit pack than the Alphas’ fated mate, hm?”

The crowd erupts—whispers exploding into panicked, outraged shouts. Some are demanding answers. Others cry betrayal. They can’t believe it. That I would choose rogues. That I would leave.

Silas doesn’t move. He stands between me and the chaos like a wall of steel, his body shielding mine from every daggered stare. His thumb draws slow, soothing circles against the back of my hand. His head hovers just above mine, close enough that I can feel the warmth of his breath.

I’m swallowed by his presence, and for the first time in what feels like years—

I feel safe.

Damian pushes forward, stopping just short of Silas, his eyes locked on mine. There’s rage burning there, the beginnings of something violent.

“There’s no way in hell you’re leaving with this guy.”

“We promised Mom we’d keep you safe,” Lucian adds, voice lower but no less firm.

A growl builds in my throat. “You don’t get to choose for me.”

Damian laughs. Harsh. Unhinged. “Oh yes we do! Or have you forgotten? You’re still our fucking mate, Nara.”

The words cut. Not because they’re true. But because I always knew that’s how he saw me.

A possession. A bond to control. A title to claim.

The same pattern. The same life. Over and over.

But not this time.

This time, I choose the ending.

“No,” I say, locking eyes with him, letting every ounce of hatred I’ve ever swallowed burn its way to the surface. “Not anymore.”

I inhale—deep, steadying. My whole body shakes.

“Damian Moonlit,” I whisper. He freezes.

“I reject you... as my chosen mate.”

There’s a snap in the air—silent to everyone else, but to us, it roars. A cord severed. A soul undone.

White-hot agony floods my chest.

I gasp, stumble—my body convulsing with the pain. Silas catches me before I fall, arms tight, grounding me as I shake against him. Even with Corneille buried beneath layers of ice, the heat of the bond’s destruction burns through everything.

I feel it in my bones. In my blood.

Damian collapses with a howl, writhing on the floor. Rosalina is at his side in an instant, murmuring frantic words, trying to soothe him.

But I don’t look at them.

I turn to Lucian.

The edges of my vision blur. I don’t know if I’m still standing on my own. But I look at him, and I let his face—his expression of stunned disbelief—etch itself into my mind forever.

“Nara,” he breathes, “please don’t do this…”

But it’s already done.

My voice comes out strangled, weak—but the words are iron.

“Lucian Moonlit.”

He shakes his head, stepping forward.

“Nara, stop this madness—”

“I reject you as my chosen mate.”

Another snap. Another wave of agony.

This one finishes what the first began.

I collapse into the dark.