Chapter 3

Standing at the threshold of the Alpha's quarters, I watched Griffin Murray and Zoya Martin engaged in a lively discussion. The oppressive hierarchy of werewolf society—where fallen Alphas became rogues, stripped of their commanding presence—was a tangible weight on my shoulders. As I stepped quietly into the room, a pang of betrayal tightened my chest. Zoya's voice rang out, sharp and unwavering.

"Alpha Griffin, look, Luna Lyra's here."

Her words dripped with calculated malice, and I stiffened, forcing a smile that felt brittle. Griffin's gaze met mine, icy and dismissive.

"You've returned."

His words held no warmth, only the cold finality of a bond severed. I nodded, barely able to speak past the tightness in my throat. Zoya's eyes gleamed with smug satisfaction.

"Luna Lyra, I need to discuss something with you."

My hands clenched instinctively, nails biting into my palms to anchor my composure.

"What do you need?"

Feigning innocence, Zoya tilted her head, her voice dripping with false cordiality.

"Would you mind giving me the bracelet you and Alpha Griffin exchanged as a symbol of your relationship?"

I froze, disbelief washing over me.

"What did you just say?"

Zoya's smile widened, a saccharine facade over hidden barbs.

"The bracelet, Alpha Griffin said it was a token of your former love."

I turned to Griffin, searching his face for some sign of the man he used to be. He looked away, his gaze cold and unreachable.

"Alpha Griffin, is this truly what you want?"

Griffin waved dismissively, the gesture cutting deeper than any words.

"It's just a piece of jewelry. You've long forgotten it."

The room spun around me, and I reached for the wall to steady myself.

"How can you… how can you do this?"

Griffin regarded me with a steely expression, as though my pain was insignificant.

"Luna Lyra, don't make a scene."

"The bracelet is meaningless; hand it over."

The indifference in his gaze sliced through me like a blade.

"Fine, I'll get it."

My hands trembled as I pulled open the drawer, revealing the bracelet—a reminder of everything I thought we shared. Tears blurred my vision as I picked it up, the finality crashing down upon me.

Griffin's impatient voice echoed through the room.

"Stop dawdling, Luna Lyra."

My anger surged, and I spun around, glaring at him.

"Alpha Griffin Murray, do you even have a heart anymore?"

His eyes hardened, and he snatched the bracelet from my grasp with a brutal efficiency.

"Luna Lyra, cease your stubbornness!"

He thrust the bracelet into Zoya's hands, dismissing me with a flick of his wrist.

"Here, do not let her antics trouble you."

Zoya flaunted the bracelet, her gaze taunting and triumphant. I lunged to retrieve it, but Griffin shoved me aside. I hit the floor, pain shooting up my arm as my elbow collided with the bed’s edge.

Griffin towered over me, his command unyielding.

"Luna Lyra, get hold of yourself."

"Don't make me resort to force."

I looked up at him, tears clouding my vision, my spirit frayed.

"Alpha Griffin, you've truly changed."

He laughed, cold and detached.

"I haven’t changed; I simply no longer love you."

"If you know what's best, start packing your things."

I struggled to stand, clutching the bed for support.

"Fine, I'm leaving."

I began to pack, each item a reminder of a life now discarded. Griffin's voice continued, unrelenting.

"Don't presume to take anything of value."

"The Alpha’s property and wealth belong to me; don’t attempt any part of it."

I paused, meeting his gaze—this person I once loved now unrecognizable.

"Don't worry, Alpha Griffin, I desire nothing from you."

"Just allow me to leave."

Griffin hesitated, then snorted dismissively.

"A wise choice."

He turned, leaving me to the solitude of a home now foreign and cold. I sat at my desk, systematically erasing all traces of our past. Photos, videos, emails—everything tied to Griffin had to disappear, my final act of severance.

I pulled out a calendar and circled a date three days hence. Thanksgiving would mark my final departure, a symbol of rebirth. I stared at the date, counting down silently.

Three days to freedom.

I opened the wardrobe and began packing, each item a relic of what once was. My hands shook, tears falling unbidden.

"How did it come to this?"