Rejected Luna's Silent Vow

On the day I left, Alpha Kayden stood silently to the side, watching as I folded the few belongings I had into the small bag I’d brought with me when I first arrived at the Silver Moon Pack’s mansion. He stepped closer, his Alpha aura faintly brushing against me, and said in a calm voice, “There’s no need to rush. The envoy won’t arrive for a few more days.”

I wrapped a familiar pen in a handkerchief before looking up at him. “Today is a good day for travel. I don’t have much, so it won’t take long to pack.”

It was too calm. Too easy. Compared to the messy rejections or affairs among the high-ranking wolves, my departure from the Silver Moon Pack was just a few words and a rejection letter. I carefully wiped down my old books and placed them in the corner of the bag, wondering if I’d forgotten anything. I didn’t notice the two Omegas’ contracts clutched in his hand.

After a long hesitation, he finally stepped forward and offered them to me. “Take them with you. They’re used to serving you.”

I knew what he meant, but I simply smiled and declined. “They might not have an easier life with me. Let them stay.”

He asked again, “Where will you go?”

My voice was steady. “Perhaps I’ll return to my hometown first.”

He nodded. “It’s a remote place. Pay your respects to your parents’ graves and then move on. Find somewhere better to settle.”

I agreed, “Alright.”

But I knew I wouldn’t return to the capital. These gestures of kindness would likely be wasted on me. Life was unpredictable, full of gains and losses. If it hadn’t been for that misunderstanding years ago, I might have already settled in that remote village. There was nothing to regret.

Over the years, I’d used my healing skills to support Kayden, funding his rise to Alpha and smoothing his path. Now, those skills were my lifeline. The intricate potions, the delicate herb combinations—I’d mastered them all. With this craft, I could survive anywhere. But even if the day came when my hands failed and I could no longer brew, I wouldn’t return to the capital.

With that thought, I tightened the straps of my bag, slung it over my shoulder, and said, “I’m leaving.”

Just as I was about to step over the threshold, he called out, “Wait!”

I turned back. “What is it?”

He hesitated, then asked, “The pendant Mother gave you, the one with the moonstone of eternal love, and the pair of wolf figurines from our marking ceremony—the ones with your name engraved on the base. You’re leaving them behind?”

I paused, then replied, “You can handle them.”

He seemed taken aback, as if he hadn’t expected me to feel so detached. He scoffed, though it didn’t sound like amusement. “How am I supposed to handle them? Selling them or giving them away isn’t appropriate. Leaving them here would only cause trouble if she