Chapter 3
The garden's tranquility mocked me as I paced between rose bushes, their sweet scent doing nothing to calm my frayed nerves. Three days had passed since the pack meeting, and my body still ached from the antidote's effects. But Kira grew stronger daily, her presence a warm ember in my chest where before there had been only cold emptiness.
"Enjoying the flowers?"
I whirled around. Sloane stood on the garden path, my mother's Luna pendant gleaming at her throat. In the daylight, the resemblance between us was uncanny—but her eyes held none of my warmth.
"What do you want?" I kept my voice steady despite Kira's growl.
Sloane's lips curved into a smile that never reached her eyes. "I thought we should have a chat, sister."
The word 'sister' dripped with mockery. She glided closer, her movements fluid and practiced—too practiced.
"You know," she said, trailing her fingers over a bloom, "Drew and I have such passionate nights together. He says I satisfy him in ways you never could."
My fists clenched. "You're lying."
"Am I?" She turned, lifting her hair to reveal the mate mark on her neck—Drew's mark. Fresh. Possessive. "He bit me right here, just three months after you went into your little nap. Said he couldn't wait any longer."
Kira snarled, clawing at my insides. I fought to keep my expression neutral.
"He tells me everything," Sloane continued, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "How you were always too weak to handle his Alpha needs. How he'd fantasize about someone stronger while he was with you."
Each word was a dagger, precisely aimed. I refused to flinch.
"I've studied you for years, Madison." Sloane's mask slipped, revealing something cold and calculating beneath. "Your mannerisms. Your speech patterns. Even your pathetic little habits."
"You're insane."
"And you're obsolete." She stepped closer, her breath hot against my face. "Try to take back what's mine, and I'll make sure you're declared rogue. Exiled. Hunted."
*We are stronger than her,* Kira whispered. *We will survive this.*
---
"Again," Aunt Elara commanded, her voice echoing through the clearing.
I pushed myself up from the forest floor, muscles trembling. Dawn light filtered through the trees as I faced my aunt's attack.
"You're still too slow," she said, circling me. "A week ago, you couldn't even feel your wolf. Now you need to fight like one."
I lunged forward, shifting my weight as Kira guided me. My aunt dodged easily, but I managed to land a glancing blow to her shoulder.
"Better," she conceded. "But not good enough."
For two hours, we trained in secret—relearning the connection between woman and wolf that the herbs had severed. With each passing day, Kira grew stronger, our bond deeper.
"Someone's coming," Aunt Elara hissed suddenly.
We froze as voices approached—pack patrol, making their rounds earlier than usual.
"Quickly," my aunt whispered, pushing me toward a hollow log. "Pretend you're still weak."
I collapsed dramatically as the patrol emerged from the trees, my breathing labored, eyes glazed.
"Luna Madison?" One of the guards frowned. "What are you doing out here?"
"Just... needed air," I gasped, letting my limbs tremble. "The medicine makes me dizzy."
They exchanged glances but didn't question further. As they moved on, Aunt Elara emerged from her hiding place.
"They're watching you more closely," she warned. "We need to be careful."
"Or faster," I replied, standing straight despite my racing heart.
---
"The Portland Pack Alpha owes me a debt," Aunt Elara said later as we rested. "He'll grant you sanctuary when you're ready."
"Portland," I repeated, committing the name to memory.
---
Three days later, I stood before the packhouse, my heart pounding with determination.
"I demand to speak with Alpha Drew," I announced to the guards.
Word spread quickly. Pack members gathered as Drew emerged, Sloane at his side.
"What is this about, Madison?" he asked coldly.
"I challenge Sloane Hart's legitimacy as Luna," I declared, my voice carrying across the courtyard. "I demand my rightful place."
Gasps rippled through the crowd. Sloane's face contorted with fury.
"You have no right," she hissed.
"I have every right," I countered. "I never released our mate bond, Drew."
Drew's jaw tightened. He stepped forward, his Alpha aura flaring.
"Then let me make it clear now."
The traditional words of rejection hung heavy in the air as he spoke them formally, ceremoniously:
"I, Drew Patterson, future Alpha of the Stewart Pack, reject you, Madison Stewart, as my mate..."
Pain exploded through me—physical, spiritual, soul-deep agony as our bond shattered. I fell to my knees, a scream tearing from my throat.
But beneath the pain, something else stirred.
Freedom.
As the bond broke completely, Kira howled in triumph.
*We are free now,* she whispered. *And they have no idea what we can do.*
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