Chapter 2

The sterile hospital smell clung to my clothes as I sat beside Mother's bed, watching the monitors track her fading heartbeat. Each beep felt like a countdown to the inevitable, and I clutched her hand desperately, as if my touch alone could anchor her to this world.

"Eleanor," she whispered, her voice barely audible above the hum of medical equipment. Her eyes, once bright with Luna strength, now held the glassy sheen of someone preparing to leave. "The healer... what did he say?"

I couldn't meet her gaze. The words Morrison had spoken still echoed in my mind like a death sentence: *The cancer has metastasized throughout her system. There's nothing more we can do. I'm sorry, Luna Eleanor. Perhaps weeks, maybe days.*

"Eleanor." Her voice carried the authority of a former Luna, even in her weakened state. "Tell me."

My throat constricted. "It's... it's spread, Mother. Morrison says there's no treatment that can stop it now." The words tasted like ash in my mouth.

She closed her eyes for a long moment, and I saw her chest rise and fall with the measured breathing of someone accepting their fate. When she opened them again, there was a strange peace there that I envied.

"Help me sit up," she said softly.

I adjusted her pillows, my hands shaking as I supported her frail frame. She felt so fragile, like she might crumble at any moment. With trembling fingers, she reached behind her neck, struggling with the clasp of her moonstone necklace—the one she'd worn every day since Father's death.

"Mother, don't—"

"Let me." Her fingers fumbled with the delicate chain, and I gently helped her remove it. The moonstone caught the harsh hospital lighting, seeming to glow with its own inner light. "This belonged to your grandmother, and her grandmother before that. It's been passed down through generations of strong Luna women."

She placed it around my neck with reverent care, her fingers cool against my skin as she fastened the clasp. The weight of it felt significant, like a mantle of responsibility I wasn't sure I could bear.

"You must learn to find strength within yourself, my darling," she whispered, her hand resting over the stone where it lay against my chest. "You won't always have others to depend on. The Moon Goddess blessed you with power you haven't even discovered yet. Trust in yourself when everything else falls away."

Tears blurred my vision. "I don't know how to be strong without you."

"You do." Her smile was gentle but firm. "You've always known. You just need to remember."

The drive back to the pack house passed in a haze of grief and numbness. The moonstone felt warm against my skin, a constant reminder of Mother's words and the legacy I was supposed to carry. But how could I be strong when everything was crumbling around me?

I climbed the stairs to our chambers on unsteady legs, desperate for the sanctuary of our private space. Maybe Bryson would be there. Maybe I could finally tell him about Mother, about how scared I was, about how I needed him to hold me while my world fell apart.

But when I pushed open the bedroom door, the sight that greeted me drove all thoughts of comfort from my mind.

Purple wolf fur. Scattered across our mating bed like evidence of the ultimate betrayal.

I stood frozen in the doorway, staring at the foreign fur that definitely didn't belong to my brown wolf. The strands caught the afternoon light streaming through our windows—our windows, in our sacred space, where we had pledged our eternal bond under the Moon Goddess's blessing.

My legs gave out.

I collapsed to my knees beside the bed, my hands trembling as I reached for the purple strands. They were soft between my fingers, still carrying the scent of vanilla and wildflowers—the same scent I'd detected on the she-wolf in Bryson's arms at the healing center.

She had been here. In our bed. In the space where we had made love, where we had whispered promises of forever, where I had believed our mate bond was sacred and unbreakable.

A howl of pure anguish erupted from somewhere deep in my chest—not my human voice, but my wolf's cry of betrayal and pain. The sound echoed off the walls of our chamber, a primal expression of a bond being torn apart from the inside.

I clutched the purple fur to my chest, my body shaking with sobs that felt like they might tear me apart. The moonstone necklace pressed against my skin, a reminder of strength I couldn't feel, of a legacy I was failing to uphold.

The sound of heavy footsteps on the stairs made me freeze. Bryson was coming home.

I remained on the floor, the evidence of his betrayal still clutched in my fists, waiting for the man who had shattered everything to walk through the door and try to explain away the destruction of our sacred bond.