When the King Ordered Me to Abandon My Child

The grand dining hall of the Royal Lycan Pack had not changed in five centuries. The chandeliers still dripped with crystals that caught the candlelight, and the long mahogany table still smelled of lemon polish and roasted venison. But as I stood in the archway, gripping the velvet curtains until my knuckles turned white, I realized the world I had built for five hundred years was dissolving right in front of me.

Tonight was supposed to be a celebration of our pack’s prosperity. Instead, it was my execution.

Kassidy Ellis sat at the head of the table. In *my* chair.

The she-wolf from the Crimson Moon Pack threw her head back, laughing at something my mate whispered to her. Her neck was bared, inviting, and Clayton—my husband, my King, the man whose soul had been stitched to mine by the Moon Goddess herself—didn't look away. He stared at her with a hunger that used to belong to me.

A sharp, electric chime rang in my skull, invisible to everyone else.

*[System Warning: Mate Bond Integrity critical. 15% remaining. Countdown to severance: 72 hours.]*

The glowing blue text hovered over the banquet table, a spectral guillotine waiting to drop. The System, that cruel, mystical entity binding me to this supernatural realm, was counting down the seconds until I was stripped of my memories and cast back into the human world as if I had never existed.

I stepped into the light. "Clayton."

The chatter in the hall died instantly. Forks clattered onto plates. Every pair of eyes shifted to me—some filled with pity, others with the cruel curiosity of predators watching a wounded deer.

"That is my seat," I said, my voice trembling not with fear, but with a rage so ancient it felt like sediment in my veins. "You cannot seat a guest in the Luna's chair."

Clayton didn't even flinch. He took a slow sip of his wine, his eyes fixed on the red liquid swirling in the glass. He wouldn't even look at me.

It was Eli who moved. My son. The boy I had bounced on my knee, the Prince I had taught to be kind, to lead with his heart.

He slammed his fist onto the table, causing the silverware to jump. His eyes flashed a dangerous, molten gold. A low, vibrating growl ripped from his chest—a sound of dominance. A warning.

"Enough, Mother," Eli snarled, the Alpha timber in his voice hitting me like a physical blow to the chest. "Do not ruin this night with your jealousy. Father has made his choice. Sit elsewhere."

The air left my lungs. My own son. He was using the Alpha tone on me. He was bowing to the woman who was stealing his father, and crushing his mother into the dirt to do it.

I didn't eat that night. I couldn't.

By the next morning, the humiliation had festered into a desperate, clawing need to fix things. I couldn't just wait for the countdown to hit zero.