Chapter 2SHE’S GONE BACK TO THE PACK LANDS

The moonlight spilled cold and silver across the lawn the next evening, casting long shadows that stretched like secrets.

A familiar black SUV rolled up the driveway, its headlights slicing through the Dallas dusk. My breath caught as I stood behind the second-floor curtain, my nails biting into the velvet fabric.

The car stopped.

Lyra tumbled out first, still tugging at Darius’s cloak with one hand, while the other barely held onto her brother’s wrist. Her face was scrunched with annoyance, her steps sluggish—like she didn’t want to be here.

Luca, on the other hand, was eerily silent. His eyes were sharp, guarded… the way a wolf watches before it bolts.

“Daddy, I don’t want to go back,” Lyra whined, loud enough for me to hear through the slightly cracked window. “Mommy’s gonna nag us about doing the moon patrol again. It’s so annoying.”

Then her voice dropped lower, more hesitant. “But Aunt Emma said Mommy came home just to see us. If we don’t come back… she’ll be sad, right?”

I pressed my forehead to the glass, my heart aching with each word. Even today, I was a burden. An obligation.

Darius’s response was barely audible. “She won’t.”

That one sentence cut deeper than anything else ever could.

Because in their world, in his mind—I wasn’t someone who felt. I wasn’t someone who broke.

Just someone who stayed. Obedient. Predictable. Emotionless.

I stepped back from the window, swallowing the lump forming in my throat. I didn’t want to cry. Not anymore.

Lyra skipped through the front door moments later, her voice bright and carefree. “Linda! I’m gonna take a bath! Aunt Emma picked out the cutest bubble bomb—it smells like strawberries!”

Linda greeted her with a tired smile. “Alright, sweetheart. Just don’t slip on the tiles.”

Then she turned and walked toward Darius, a thick brown envelope in her hands. “Alpha… Luna asked me to give this to you.”

He paused briefly, catching the envelope without real interest. “Where is she?”

I could almost hear his tone—distracted, distant, as if asking about a servant rather than his wife.

Linda hesitated. “She packed at noon. I…I’m not sure if she’s still here.”

I held my breath, waiting.

“Gone back?” Darius murmured.

“To the Silver Hollow Pack, I think,” Linda answered carefully. “I haven’t cleaned her room yet. Should I check?”

“No need.”

His voice was flat, unreadable. Emotionless.

Downstairs, the children heard everything.

Luca’s fists clenched at his sides. His brows knit together, lips pressed into a hard line. “She… left?”

And Lyra—sweet, oblivious Lyra—muttered softly, “But I wanted to play her the new piano piece I wrote… I needed her help tuning it…”

Then, quieter: “How will I play it for Daddy and Aunt Emma now?”

She didn’t miss me.

She missed what I did for her. My usefulness.

In her world, I was a pair of hands and a practiced ear.

That was all.

Linda, still standing nearby, added gently, “Alpha… she didn’t look well. She seemed… upset.”

Darius just chuckled. “She’s always upset. That’s just how she is.”

No questions. No concern. Not even a glance at the envelope still sitting unopened on the side table, fluttering in the breeze like a goodbye no one bothered to read.

His phone rang.

He answered with a smile. “Yes?”

A soft female voice floated through the speaker. “Darius? Are you on your way? The tea’s getting cold…”

Emma.

He left that night and didn’t come home.

---

The next morning, Linda found the envelope on the floor unopened.

Assuming Darius had read it, she tucked it into the bottom drawer of his nightstand without a word.

Meanwhile, the wind across the Dallas plains blew through the open windows.

And I?

I was long gone.

Back in Silver Hollow.

The house I now stood in was technically mine—bought six years ago for work, barely lived in since my marriage. Now, it was all I had.

I moved through the space like a ghost, slowly unpacking what little I brought: a few changes of clothes, my research notes, and a backup chip for my phone.

The rest—the marriage, the house in Dallas, the role of Luna—I left behind.

Darius had always deposited money into accounts for the children and me. I never touched them. I preferred using my own salary.

But last night, something inside me snapped.

And I logged into the account—his monthly deposits untouched, quietly growing.

Over thirty million credits.

To him? Pocket change.

To me? A second chance.

Without a shred of hesitation, I transferred it all. Every cent.

My heart didn’t tremble.

Not anymore.

---

By 10 p.m., I had washed up and crawled under the clean sheets of a bed that didn’t smell like him.

An alarm rang a few minutes later. Ding-ding. Ding-ding.

7 a.m. in Dallas. Breakfast time.

For over a year—no matter where I was in the world—I always called the kids then.

Even across oceans, I never missed it.

Lyra used to squeal when she saw my face on the screen.

Now?

Now, she barely said more than “Hi.”

And Luca… well, he never said much. But he always answered.

I stared at the blinking alarm.

Then I deleted it.

And turned off the phone.

---

Back in Dallas, Darius stood in front of the mirror, adjusting the silver clasps of his Council cloak. He glanced at his phone.

No messages from me.

No calls from the children either.

He raised a brow but said nothing.

He didn’t wonder where I was.

He didn’t ask if I was okay.

Lyra danced down the stairs, light on her feet. “Finally! No Mommy nagging me during breakfast! I can escape early!”

She ran toward the car, her laughter echoing down the hall.

At the door, Luca stood frozen.

He looked around the empty hallway like he was waiting for someone to stop him.

Then, under his breath, he muttered:

“She didn’t leave us. We pushed her away.”

---

At the same time, inside Silver Hollow’s Medical Research HQ, I handed over the final document that tethered me to that man.

Logan blinked as he looked up from his desk. “Dr. Rae? What’s this?”

“My resignation,” I said simply, placing the form in front of him.

He frowned. “Are you absolutely sure?”

“Yes.”

For years, I had been Moon Claw Pack’s official research advisor. Their top scientist. Darius’s pawn.

Not anymore.

Logan hesitated before finally taking the form. “You’re no longer Moon Claw’s. But Silver Hollow still needs you, Rae. You’ll always have a place here.”

Something swelled in my chest at that—warmth. Purpose. Respect.

“I’ll give it everything I’ve got,” I said.

And I meant it.

As I turned and walked out, my steps felt lighter than they had in years.

I wasn’t a Luna anymore.

I was something far more dangerous—A woman who had nothing left to lose.

---

Back in Moon Claw, Darius’s phone buzzed as he wrapped up a Council meeting.

He glanced down.

[Dr. Luna Rae has officially resigned as Moon Claw Pack Research Consultant.]

He stared at the message for a beat.

Then he set his phone aside.

And kept reading.

What he didn’t know was that while he buried himself in Council files and bubble bath promises—The woman he overlooked, the Luna he ignored, the mother he dismissed—Had just returned everything to him.

And walked into her new life with fire in her bones.

*********