Chapter 3

The rain turned to ice somewhere between the pack house and the border. I didn't notice when. Didn't care.

My feet carried me without direction, away from the cottage where Sebastian's hand had rested on Allyson's belly, away from the crowd's whispers, away from three hours on my knees in the dirt. The forest swallowed me whole—branches tearing at my ruined dress, thorns catching my skin. I welcomed the pain. It was cleaner than what Sebastian had done.

When I finally stopped, gasping and shivering, I realized I'd crossed into neutral territory. The scent markers were different here, neither Moonveil nor distinctly another pack's. Just... empty.

My legs gave out. I collapsed against a tree trunk, its bark rough against my spine through the thin, soaked fabric. The emerald dress—the one I'd chosen so carefully for our anniversary—clung to my body like a second skin, heavy with rain and shame.

"You shouldn't be here."

The voice came from behind me. Low. Familiar in a way that made every muscle in my body lock with terror.

I forced myself to turn.

Alpha Elias Washington stood ten feet away, his gray eyes—storm-colored, I'd once thought them beautiful—fixed on me with an expression I couldn't read. He wore simple traveling clothes, his dark hair wet from the rain. He must have been patrolling the border between Silverfang and neutral ground.

Of all the wolves in all the territories, it had to be him.

"I'm leaving," I managed, my voice hoarse. "I'll be gone in a moment."

"You're hypothermic." He didn't move closer, but his gaze traveled over me—clinical, assessing. "And injured."

I looked down. Blood mixed with rain on my arms where thorns had torn skin. I hadn't felt it. Still barely did.

"It doesn't matter," I said.

Something shifted in his expression. Not pity—I couldn't have borne pity from him. Something grimmer. Recognition, maybe. Or guilt.

"There's a border cabin half a mile north." His words were clipped, carefully neutral. "You can dry off. Warm up."

"I don't need—"

"You're shaking so hard you can barely stand." His Alpha authority bled into his tone, not quite a command but close enough to make my wolf stir uneasily. "Half a mile. Then you can leave."

I wanted to refuse. Wanted to tell him I'd rather freeze than accept anything from the Alpha who'd rejected me when I was sixteen, who'd called me worthless, who'd used his Alpha tone to sever our fated bond while I screamed.

But my body betrayed me. Another violent shiver wracked through me, my teeth chattering so hard I bit my tongue.

Elias turned without waiting for my answer and started walking. After a moment, I followed.

The cabin was small, utilitarian—the kind used by border patrols during long watches. Elias pushed open the door and gestured me inside without crossing the threshold himself. Maintaining propriety. Of course.

A fireplace dominated one wall. He moved past me to light it, efficient and quick, then stepped back toward the door.

"There are blankets in the chest. Dry clothes if they fit." He paused, his hand on the doorframe. "I'll be outside."

"Why?" The question escaped before I could stop it. "Why help me now?"

His jaw tightened. For a long moment, he didn't answer. Then: "Because I know what it looks like when someone's been destroyed by their Alpha. And I know what I did to you years ago. Consider this... insufficient atonement."

He left before I could respond.

I stood dripping on the wooden floor, alone with the growing fire and the weight of too many humiliations to count. My hands shook as I peeled off the ruined dress and wrapped myself in a rough wool blanket from the chest. The clothes Elias mentioned were too large, clearly meant for male wolves, but they were dry. I pulled them on anyway.

The fire's warmth started to seep into my frozen limbs, bringing with it the full awareness of pain—physical and otherwise. I sank onto the floor in front of the flames and stared at nothing.

Through the cabin's single window, I could see the road that led back toward Moonveil territory. As I watched, a familiar black car drove past. Sebastian's. Even from this distance, I could make out two figures in the front seat.

His hand was on Allyson's belly again. Protective. Possessive. The way a mate's should be.

I pressed my palm against my own stomach—flat, empty, worthless—and finally let myself break.

The sound that came out of me wasn't crying. It was something deeper. Rawer. My wolf howled inside my chest, a keening that had no outlet because I couldn't shift, couldn't run, couldn't escape the truth that Sebastian had branded into my soul today.

I had never been his Luna. Not really.

I'd been a placeholder. A convenient face while he built his real life with someone else.

Outside, Elias stood with his back to the cabin, rigid and still. He didn't turn around. Didn't intrude on my breaking. But he didn't leave either.

And somehow, that small mercy from the Alpha who'd once shattered me was more than my own mate had given me in three years.