Chapter 2

Six days remained in the public notice period.

I was still Bloodmoon’s commercial liaison, responsible for pack cooperation agreements and hunting contracts. Damon had never removed me from the role, probably because I handled the work well enough that he never had to think about it.

That morning, the head of the hunting team sent me a message.

“Freya, bring the contract stone. We’re meeting the neighboring pack about the hunting agreement today. Bloodmoon’s side is bringing Iris Dawnfield. I hear she’ll be taking over the cooperation projects from now on.”

I read the message twice.

So that was the position Damon had prepared for her. The one I had held for three years.

The public notice period had already begun working through my body. At first, it was only a dull ache under my ribs. By the sixth day, the pain had spread into my bones, quiet enough to hide but sharp enough to remind me the bond was dying.

When we entered the council hall, Damon was there with Iris beside him. His hand rested lightly at the back of her chair, and several people exchanged knowing looks. She looked less like a new project representative than the future Luna of Bloodmoon.

Damon froze when he saw me.

Iris noticed and smiled politely.

“I don’t think we’ve met.”

Before Damon could speak, I said, “Freya Nightshade. Bloodmoon’s commercial liaison. We haven’t met before.”

The room relaxed, but Damon’s expression changed.

In my previous life, I had waited for him to explain who I was. When he stayed silent, I lost control after the meeting and asked whether I was that shameful to acknowledge. He only said Iris had just returned, so I should not make everything about myself.

This time, I gave him the answer he wanted.

Iris’s smile deepened. “Then I’ll be learning from you, Freya. Damon said you’ve handled these agreements for years.”

Her tone was gentle, but everyone heard what she meant. I was the old one, and she was the replacement.

The negotiation was brief. Damon led most of it on Iris’s behalf, pressing for a lower moon-energy share, more border hunting access, and final approval rights for Iris on future reports. The head of my hunting team frowned several times but finally agreed.

When the contract stone lit up, Damon glanced at me. There was guilt in his eyes, but guilt had always been the cheapest thing he gave me. It never stopped him from choosing Iris.

I signed the final page without a word.

After the meeting, Iris opened a gift box and smiled at the room. “I made moonberry pastries this morning. Please try some.”

Damon immediately stopped her.

“Don’t touch those. You’re allergic to moonberries. Let me check first.”

My fingers tightened around the contract stone.

I was severely allergic to moonberries.

For three years, there had never been moonberry pastries in our residence. I thought Damon remembered because of me, because he cared enough to know what could hurt me.

Now I understood.

He had remembered the allergy, just not mine.

Iris lowered her eyes with a small laugh. “You still remember that?”

“Of course,” Damon said, his voice softening. “You almost stopped breathing when we were children.”

Several people smiled, as if they had witnessed something intimate.

I lowered my head to check the contract stone again as the pain inside my bones tightened.

Six days left.

I had promised myself I would not stop him in this life. If he wanted to protect Iris, I would let him. If he wanted to give her my work, my place, and the public tenderness he had never given me, I would step aside.

After all, soon none of it would belong to me.