Chapter 3
The winter solstice celebration arrived with all the fanfare I once orchestrated as Luna. Lanterns hung from every beam in the great hall, their golden light casting dancing shadows across the polished marble. The scent of roasted venison and spiced wine filled the air, making my stomach turn.
I stood near the entrance, dressed in a simple black dress that felt like armor. No ceremonial robes. No Luna pendant. Just me—Sloane Carter, soon to be nobody in this pack.
Chandler had finalized everything. By week's end, I would be gone. The thought steadied my racing heart as pack members filed past me, some averting their eyes, others whispering behind raised hands.
Eden entered with Victoria draped on his arm, her crimson gown a bold slash of color against his dark suit. She laughed at something he said, the sound sharp and performative. His eyes swept the room with Alpha authority before landing on me.
For a moment, something flickered across his face—surprise, perhaps, or recognition. Then it hardened into the cold mask I'd grown accustomed to.
He approached with Victoria in tow, his stride confident, expecting my usual response. In the past, I would have lowered my gaze, stepped aside, made myself small. That version of me had died on the marble floor when he'd forced poison down my throat.
I stood my ground.
"Sloane," he said, his voice carrying that Alpha edge meant to compel obedience. "You're blocking the ceremonial path."
The hall fell silent. Conversations died mid-sentence. Even the serving staff froze, trays suspended in air.
I met his gaze directly, unflinching. My heart hammered against my ribs, but my voice came out steady and clear. "I have something to say."
Victoria's eyes narrowed. "This is hardly the time for—"
"I, Sloane Carter," I declared, my voice ringing through the suddenly hushed hall, "formally reject you, Eden Carr, as my mate and Alpha."
The words hung in the air like a physical force. Gasps erupted around us. Someone dropped a glass, the shattering crystal punctuating my declaration.
Eden's face drained of color, then flushed deep red. "What did you just say?"
"You heard me." I lifted my chin higher. "I reject you. Our mate bond is severed by my choice, not yours. You tried to break me, Eden, but instead, you freed me."
His hand moved before I could react—a crack across my face that snapped my head to the side. Pain exploded across my cheek, the metallic taste of blood filling my mouth where my teeth had cut my lip.
The hall erupted in shocked murmurs, but I didn't cry out. Didn't touch my face. Didn't show him the satisfaction of my pain.
Instead, I turned back slowly, deliberately, and wiped the blood from my lip with the back of my hand. I held his gaze—this man who had once promised to protect me—and let him see nothing but cold determination in my eyes.
"Is that all?" I asked quietly.
Then I walked past him, my shoulder brushing his as I moved toward where Marcus stood with the other pack officials. Each step felt like walking through fire, my legs threatening to give out, but I forced them to carry me forward.
Marcus's eyes were wide, his face pale. I reached up and unclasped the small Luna pendant I still wore—the only ceremonial item I'd kept. It was delicate silver, shaped like a crescent moon, the symbol of the Carr Pack Luna for generations.
I placed it in Marcus's palm, my fingers steady despite the trembling I felt inside.
"I resign from all Luna duties," I announced, my voice carrying across the silent hall. "Effective immediately. I will be leaving pack affairs entirely."
Marcus stared at the pendant in his hand, then at me, conflict warring in his expression. "Sloane, you don't have to—"
"Yes," I interrupted gently. "I do."
I turned to face the assembled pack one final time. Dozens of faces stared back—some shocked, some pitying, some openly hostile. I saw Thomas in the back, the old elder who'd known my parents, nodding slowly with something that looked like approval.
"Thank you all," I said simply. "But I'm done."
As I walked toward the exit, I heard Eden's voice, ragged and desperate in a way I'd never heard before: "Sloane, wait—"
I didn't stop. Didn't turn around. The cold winter air hit my face as I pushed through the doors, the sting on my split lip a reminder that I was still alive, still standing.
Behind me, chaos erupted in the hall—raised voices, arguments, the unmistakable sound of Eden shouting my name.
But I kept walking into the darkness, toward the forest edge where Chandler was waiting with a car, toward freedom, toward whatever came next.
The moon hung full and bright above me, illuminating my path forward. And for the first time in months, I felt like I could finally breathe.
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