Chapter 5
The antiseptic smell of the clinic stung my nostrils as I lay on the examination table, staring at the ceiling tiles. Dr. Chen had stepped out to give me a moment to process her devastating news. Three months. Maybe less.
The door burst open with such force that it slammed against the wall. Bonnie stood in the doorway, her chest heaving, eyes wild with fury.
"Where is he?" she demanded, her voice cracking. "Where's Knox?"
I pushed myself up slowly, wincing as the movement triggered another wave of pain through my temple. "Bonnie, what's wrong?"
"He hasn't answered my calls in two days!" She stalked into the room, her hands clenched into fists. "Not a single call! And then I hear from Elena that they're in Maui, not the northern territories."
The confirmation hit me like a physical blow. I closed my eyes, fighting back tears.
"Laurel." Bonnie's voice softened as she noticed the bandage on my arm, the hospital gown, the IV pole beside me. "What happened to you?"
I couldn't hold it back anymore. The words poured out of me like blood from a wound—the tumor, the seizures, Malcolm's coldness, Angie's manipulation, the Maui trip, all of it.
"He's known about your condition for weeks?" Bonnie's face had gone pale. "And he still took her to Maui?"
I nodded, too exhausted for more words.
Bonnie paced the small room, her aura crackling with barely contained rage. "I knew something was wrong when he wouldn't answer my calls. But this..." She stopped, turning to face me with eyes blazing with determination. "This ends now."
"What do you mean?" I whispered.
"Knox is my mate, but you're my family." She knelt beside the examination table, taking my hand in hers. "I've seen how they treat you, how they take you for granted. It stops today."
She reached into her purse and pulled out a small notebook. "I've been keeping track of the pack's financial discrepancies. Malcolm thinks I don't notice, but I see everything."
"Bonnie, you can't—"
"I can and I will." Her voice was steel wrapped in silk. "I have savings they don't know about. Enough to get you anywhere you want to go."
"Leave?" The word felt foreign on my tongue.
"Yes, leave." She squeezed my hand. "You deserve better than this, Laurel. You always have."
---
The Pack House was eerily quiet when I returned. Most of the pack members were out on patrol or handling daily duties. I moved like a ghost through the hallways, a Luna nobody expected to see.
I knew exactly where to go. Malcolm believed he'd drained my inheritance account years ago, but he'd missed one thing—a small trust fund my grandmother had set up specifically for me, hidden beneath layers of shell companies.
My fingers trembled as I entered the password to the ancient desktop computer in the back office. The screen flickered to life, revealing the familiar banking portal.
"Come on," I whispered as the balance loaded. "Please be there."
The number that appeared made my heart leap—enough money to disappear completely.
I heard footsteps in the hallway and quickly transferred the funds to the offshore account Bonnie had prepared. As the confirmation appeared on screen, I felt a weight lifting from my shoulders.
Upstairs, I moved methodically through my closet, selecting only what was truly mine—clothes Malcolm hadn't chosen, photos of my parents, a few books. Everything else remained behind, including every piece of Luna jewelry and regalia.
One suitcase. That's all I would take from this life.
---
Malcolm's office felt smaller than I remembered. Or perhaps it was his massive oak desk that dominated the space, making me feel insignificant as I sat in his leather chair.
I pulled out the documents Bonnie had helped me prepare—two sheets of paper that would sever forty years of bonds.
"Rejection of Mate Bond," read the first header.
"Abdication of Luna Status," read the second.
My pen hovered over the signature line. Once I signed these, there would be no going back.
I thought of Malcolm's face when he'd fed Angie that last truffle. I thought of Knox's lies about Maui. I thought of forty years of invisibility.
The pen moved across the paper with surprising steadiness.
"I, Laurel Graham, reject you, Malcolm Graham, Alpha of the Black Moon Pack, as my mate..."
"I, Laurel Graham, abdicate my position as Luna of the Black Moon Pack..."
Each word felt like breaking a chain that had bound me for decades.
When I finished signing, I slipped my wedding ring from my finger. It looked small and insignificant on the desktop. Beside it, I placed the Pack House keys—symbols of a prison I would never enter again.
As I stood to leave, I caught sight of myself in the window reflection—straight-backed, clear-eyed, and for the first time in years, free.
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