Chapter 3

I gathered my courage like armor around my fractured heart as I marched down the corridor toward Ryan's office. Emma paced anxiously within me, her grief transforming into something sharper, more dangerous. The pack house hallways felt foreign now, as if the walls themselves had shifted allegiance overnight.

I didn't knock. That small act of defiance was all I had left.

"Madison," Ryan said without looking up from his desk, Christina perched on the edge like she belonged there. "We're in the middle of something."

"So was I," I replied, my voice steadier than I expected. "In the middle of an eight-year relationship built on lies."

Christina's lips curved into a smile that didn't reach her eyes. She placed a possessive hand on Ryan's shoulder, her fingers tracing patterns on the fabric of his shirt. The casual intimacy was a deliberate wound.

"I deserve an explanation," I demanded, planting my feet firmly on the ground as Emma snarled within me. "Eight years, Ryan. Eight years of my life."

Ryan finally looked up, but his eyes slid past mine to focus on a point above my head. The coward couldn't even face me directly.

"She belongs here now," he said coldly, as if discussing pack territory rather than the woman who had shared his bed for nearly a decade. "The pack needs stability during this transition."

"Stability?" I laughed, the sound brittle even to my own ears. "You're destroying everything stable in this pack."

Emma howled in agreement, the sound reverberating through my mind with such force I nearly staggered.

"That's enough, Madison," Ryan's voice hardened with that Alpha tone that once made me feel protected. Now it felt like a weapon. "We'll discuss the details of your... departure later."

Dismissed. Like a servant who had outlived her usefulness.

---

The formal pack dinner that evening was an exquisite form of torture. I sat at my usual place beside Ryan's empty chair, aware of every whisper, every pitying glance. When Ryan entered with Christina on his arm, the room fell silent before erupting into forced conversation.

"A vision, aren't they?" Beta Thomas murmured beside me, his tone carefully neutral but his eyes compassionate.

"A nightmare," I corrected quietly.

Ryan seated Christina in my chair – my place for eight years – before taking his own. The symbolism wasn't lost on anyone, least of all me. Emma curled into a tight ball of misery within me as I forced myself to remain upright, dignified despite the humiliation burning through me.

The dinner progressed with excruciating slowness. I pushed food around my plate, unable to stomach anything while Christina laughed too loudly at Ryan's jokes, her hand constantly touching his arm, his shoulder, his face.

Finally, I couldn't bear another moment. I stood, my chair scraping loudly against the floor. All eyes turned to me.

"I believe we should schedule the rejection ceremony," I announced, my voice carrying across the suddenly silent room. "There's no reason to prolong this... situation."

Ryan's expression flickered with something – surprise that I would force his hand so publicly, perhaps. He recovered quickly, his face arranging itself into a mask of concern.

"Whenever you're ready, love," he said, the endearment a mockery of what we'd once shared. "We want what's best for you."

Then, as if I'd already ceased to exist, he turned back to Christina, leaning close to whisper something that made her laugh softly. The sound cut through me like glass.

I left the dining hall with as much dignity as I could muster, Emma's grief and rage swirling within me like a storm.

---

Sleep eluded me that night. I wandered the pack house like a ghost, belonging nowhere. Past midnight, voices from Ryan's study drew me like a moth to flame. I shouldn't have listened – shouldn't have put myself through more pain – but I couldn't stop myself.

"She looked so pitiful tonight," Christina's voice drifted through the partially open door. "Standing there like she actually expected you to care."

Ryan's laugh – the same laugh I'd once treasured – cut through me like a knife. "Eight years and she never realized she was just a placeholder."

"When will we hold our mating ceremony?" Christina asked, her voice dropping to that sultry tone that made Emma growl. "I don't want to wait until after her rejection is finalized."

"Soon," Ryan promised. "Very soon. The pack already accepts you as their true Luna."

I pressed my hand against my mouth to stifle the sound that threatened to escape. Eight years reduced to nothing. A placeholder. A convenient body until his true desire returned.

Emma, who had been curled in misery for days, suddenly straightened within me. Her grief transformed into something harder, colder.

*We are not nothing,* she snarled. *And we will not be erased.*

As I backed away from the door, a new resolve crystallized within me. They wanted to erase me? They would soon discover I wasn't so easily forgotten.