Chapter 2

The morning air bit at my skin as I crossed the border into Crescent Valley territory. My wolf stirred restlessly within me, sensing we were far from what had been home for so long. The familiar ache of the weakened mate bond pulled at my chest like a physical tether, but I pushed forward, one foot in front of the other.

I found Rachel at the training grounds just as dawn broke over the mountains. My sister's powerful form was easy to spot among the warriors—her stance commanding, her movements precise as she directed morning drills. The Beta insignia gleamed on her leather jacket, a reminder of all she had achieved while I had given everything away.

When she spotted me, her eyes narrowed. She barked final instructions to her warriors before striding toward me, arms already crossing over her chest.

"Eight times," she said without preamble. "Eight fucking times, Olivia."

I winced. "I know."

"Do you?" Rachel's voice was sharp enough to cut. "Because every time I think you've finally learned, you prove me wrong."

The warriors gave us a wide berth, though I could feel their curious glances. The disgraced former Luna of Silver Moon Pack, sister to their Beta. What a spectacle I made.

"It's different this time," I said quietly.

"Different how? You've said that before." Rachel's eyes softened slightly as she took in my appearance. I knew what she saw—the hollows beneath my eyes, the way my clothes hung loose on my frame. "Come on."

She led me to her private quarters, a modest but comfortable cabin near the pack house. Unlike Michael's ostentatious office, Rachel's space was practical, functional. Maps lined one wall, training schedules another.

"Sit," she commanded, and I did. Old habits.

Rachel poured two cups of strong black coffee and pushed one toward me. "Talk."

I wrapped my fingers around the warm mug. "I cut the bond. Completely."

Her eyebrows shot up. "You what?"

"After the rejection. I severed it." My voice sounded strange to my own ears—steady, calm.

Rachel studied me for a long moment. "Why now? What changed?"

I stared into my coffee. "I don't know. Something just... broke. Or maybe something finally clicked."

"About damn time," Rachel muttered, but there was no real heat in her words. "The Moon Goddess didn't design mates to be abused, Liv."

The words hit me like a physical blow. Mates. Abuse. I'd never allowed those words to exist in the same thought before.

"He's my fated mate," I whispered, the old excuse rising automatically to my lips.

"And that gives him the right to treat you like garbage?" Rachel leaned forward. "To reject you eight times? To spread rumors about you sleeping with rogues?"

I flinched. "You heard those?"

"Everyone's heard them." Her knuckles whitened around her mug. "If he weren't an Alpha..."

The threat hung in the air between us. Even as a Beta, Rachel couldn't challenge an Alpha from another pack—especially not over a rejected mate.

"What will you do now?" she asked finally.

I shook my head. "I don't know yet. But I won't go back. Not this time."

Something like hope flickered in Rachel's eyes, quickly masked by caution. She'd heard this promise before.

"Stay here," she offered. "We can find you a place."

"I can't." The words came out before I'd fully formed the thought. "I need... space. From everything that reminds me of him."

Rachel nodded slowly. "When you figure out where that space is, let me know. I'll help however I can."

As I left Crescent Valley territory that afternoon, my sister's words echoed in my mind. The Moon Goddess didn't design mates to be abused.

For the first time, I allowed myself to wonder if perhaps the Goddess had made a mistake with Michael and me.

---

The twilight gathering was in full swing when I arrived at Silver Moon's central clearing. Pack members mingled, sharing food and drink, their laughter carrying on the evening breeze. I kept to the shadows, my Omega status a cloak of invisibility.

My eyes were drawn to the raised dais where ceremonial items were displayed—tokens of pack pride and achievement. And there it was: the Luna robe I'd coveted for so long. Midnight blue fabric with delicate silver embroidery that caught the fading light, moonstones sewn along the collar that seemed to glow with their own inner light.

For months I'd saved every spare coin, working extra shifts in the pack kitchen, mending clothes, anything to earn enough for that robe. A symbol of the position I'd held and lost seven times before.

Without fully realizing it, I found myself moving toward the display. The crowd parted unconsciously—Omegas were to be avoided, lest their status somehow be contagious. I reached out, my fingers hovering just above the soft fabric.

"Admiring what you can't have?"

Victoria's voice sliced through the moment. She appeared beside the dais in a swirl of expensive silk, her golden hair perfectly styled, her makeup flawless. Everything I was not.

Before I could step back, she reached past me and lifted the robe from its display stand. The crowd fell silent, all eyes turning toward us.

"Only true Lunas wear this," Victoria announced, her voice carrying across the clearing. She draped the robe over her arm possessively, her eyes never leaving mine. "Not temporary playthings."

Heat rushed to my cheeks as titters of laughter rippled through the crowd. My hands trembled at my sides, but I forced myself to remain still. To show weakness now would only feed her cruelty.

Victoria leaned closer, her voice dropping to a stage whisper. "Did you really think he'd ever choose you? That robe costs more than you're worth."

I said nothing. What was there to say? She had won. Again.

As she sauntered away, the robe trailing behind her like a victory banner, I felt something shift inside me. Not the familiar crush of humiliation, but something harder, sharper.

The first true seed of rebellion.

---

The knock on my door came just after sunset the next day. I knew who it was before I opened it—his scent, once intoxicating, now just a painful reminder of all I'd lost.

Michael stood in the dim light of the Omega quarters' hallway, looking strangely out of place. Alphas rarely ventured to this part of the territory.

"Olivia," he said, his voice softer than it had been during the rejection. This was the Michael who always pulled me back—the one who could make me forget the cruelty of the other Michael.

"What do you want?" My voice came out steadier than I expected.

His eyes widened slightly at my directness. Omegas didn't question Alphas.

"Tomorrow night," he said. "It's the full moon."

Our mate-anniversary. The night we'd first met, first felt the pull of the Goddess's blessing. Every year, even after rejections, we'd run together under the full moon. It was tradition. His way of keeping me tethered to hope.

"I thought we could run together," he continued when I didn't respond. "Like we always do."

I should say no. Every rational part of me screamed to refuse.

But my wolf stirred restlessly within me, yearning for the ritual, for the connection we'd once shared. The mate bond might be severed, but eight years of habit weren't so easily broken.

"Olivia?" Michael prompted, a hint of his Alpha authority seeping into his tone.

I nodded once, unable to form the words.

A smile spread across his face—that rare, genuine smile that had once made my heart race. "I'll meet you at our usual spot. Sunset."

As he walked away, I closed the door and leaned against it, my heart pounding. Just one last run, I told myself. One final goodbye to what we had been.

But as I slid to the floor, arms wrapped around my knees, I couldn't silence the whisper of warning in my mind.

This was how he always pulled me back in.