Chapter 3
The pack gathering was in full swing, wolves mingling in both human and wolf forms around the central fire pit. I stood at my designated place beside the ceremonial stone, arranging the traditional offerings as I had done for years as Luna. The familiar rhythm of the ritual usually brought me peace, but tonight, my hands trembled slightly as I placed the carved wooden tokens in their proper positions.
Kiera's anxiety mirrored my own. *'She's here,'* my wolf warned, her mental voice tense.
I didn't need to turn around to confirm it. Amber's scent—deliberately enhanced with the same wildflowers I often used—drifted toward me on the evening breeze. The russet-haired she-wolf moved through the crowd with unearned confidence, accepting greetings from pack members who had no idea of her true role.
As I reached for the sacred herbs to complete the arrangement, a slender hand darted in front of mine, snatching them first.
"Allow me, Luna Olivia," Amber's voice dripped with false deference, loud enough for nearby wolves to hear. "I've been learning our pack's traditions."
Our pack. The possessive pronoun hung in the air between us.
I met her gaze steadily, refusing to show the rage Kiera was barely containing. "Thank you, but as Luna, this duty is mine alone."
Amber's smile didn't reach her eyes as she reluctantly handed over the herbs. *'For now,'* her mind-link slithered into my consciousness, uninvited and intimate. *'Jake says my hands are gentler than yours during the ceremonies. More natural. More... connected.'*
I maintained my composure, completing the arrangement without acknowledging her taunt. Around us, pack members continued their celebrations, oblivious to the silent war being waged.
*'I could tear her throat out right here,'* Kiera growled.
*'Not yet,'* I soothed my wolf. *'We need more than just our word against hers.'*
As the night progressed, I spotted Beta Ryan standing apart from the festivities, his expression troubled as he watched Ethan moving through the crowd. Amber hovered nearby, always maintaining a respectful distance in public, but her eyes never left him.
I approached Ryan, nodding to pack members who greeted me along the way. "A word, Beta?"
He followed me to a quieter spot near the edge of the clearing. "Luna Olivia," he acknowledged, his voice formal but kind.
"I need to ask you something, Ryan," I said quietly. "And I need the truth, not what your Alpha has ordered you to say."
His posture stiffened slightly, but he remained silent, waiting.
"Ethan told me Amber Collins was your intended mate," I said, watching his face carefully. "Is that true?"
Ryan's eyes dropped immediately, unable to meet mine. His silence was more damning than any confession.
"I see," I whispered.
"Luna, I—" he began, then stopped himself. "The pack needs stability right now."
"And lies provide that?" I asked, not unkindly.
He finally looked at me, his expression pained. "I've served this pack faithfully for years. But I won't dishonor myself by continuing this particular lie. Not to you."
I nodded, grateful for this small honesty in a sea of deception. "Thank you, Ryan."
Two days later, on the anniversary of our mate bonding, I woke to find Ethan already dressed and preparing to leave.
"Today?" I asked, disbelief coloring my voice. "You have 'urgent Alpha business' on our anniversary?"
He at least had the decency to look uncomfortable. "I can't reschedule, Liv. Pack security concerns. I'll make it up to you tomorrow."
I said nothing as he kissed my forehead and left. Once alone, I closed my eyes and focused on our mate bond—the connection that had once been so vibrant was now thin and fragile, but still present enough to track.
Kiera and I followed it like a ghostly trail through the forest, moving silently through territory I knew by heart. The bond led us to the sacred clearing where Ethan had first claimed me as his mate six years ago to the day.
Hidden among the trees, I watched as Ethan, in his human form, stood before a small gathering of witnesses. Amber knelt before him, her head bowed in the traditional posture of acceptance.
"Amber Collins," Ethan's voice carried clearly through the clearing, "I formally welcome you into the Silver Moon Pack, under my protection and authority."
The words were standard for an acceptance ceremony, but the location—our sacred place, on our anniversary—was a desecration I could never have imagined.
That night, with my decision made, I sent a private mind-link to the one person I knew I could trust.
*'Madison,'* I called, reaching across pack territories to my friend. *'I need sanctuary.'*
Her response was immediate and warm. *'My den is yours, Olivia. Always.'*
*'There's more,'* I continued. *'I need to filter Silver Moon mind-links. Can your pack boundaries provide that protection?'*
A pause, then understanding. *'Ethan?'*
*'Yes.'*
*'Come at dawn,'* she replied, her mental voice hardening with protective anger. *'I'll meet you at the border myself. No one will harass you here.'*
As I quietly packed a single bag in the darkness of what had once been our home, Kiera's certainty steadied my hands.
*'We're doing the right thing,'* she assured me.
I touched the mate mark on my neck one last time, feeling its familiar pulse. By tomorrow, I would be beyond Ethan's reach, preparing for the final severing of a bond I once believed would last forever.
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