Chapter 2

I stumbled into the changing room, pale as a ghost, my stomach churning like it had been set on fire.

Collapsing to the tiled floor, I retched dryly, sweat dripping onto the ground, spreading out into shameful little puddles.

Then his voice came from outside the door—familiar, sharp, and laced with that unique blend of childish malice and smugness only an eight-year-old could wield.

“Do you dream about becoming her?” Jazzy chuckled lightly, as if telling a joke. “You wear her clothes, copy her smile, steal her place… you really are greedy.”

My fingernails dug into the tiles, cutting into my flesh as I clawed for some form of control.

“But no matter how hard you try, you’ll never be like her,” he continued, savoring every word. “She was light. You’re dust. She was a mother. You’re a monster.”

“Do you know?” His tone turned cruel. “If only the fire had taken you that day… then maybe she wouldn’t have died saving you.”

My stomach twisted violently, metallic bitterness filling my mouth. I forced myself to say, “Jazzy… get… someone…”

He laughed coldly, the sugary venom in his voice cutting deep. “Why would I? You can rot here on the floor for all I care. No one gives a damn whether you live or die.”

He walked away. His footsteps didn’t pause, didn’t falter—like the woman he had called “Luna” for eight years had already become a nameless corpse in his eyes.

An Omega found me during cleaning, and after emergency care, I was brought to the pack hospital.

When I woke up, I barely remembered who I was. The nurse informed me that my clothes and personal belongings, including jewelry, had been brought along and temporarily locked in a cabinet.

I dragged myself out of bed and opened the locker. The moment the door swung open, a nail drove straight through my chest.

—The ruby ring was gone.

I instinctively turned around, choking on breathless dread.

He stood at the doorway—Jazzy—playing with my ring, eyes brimming with glee and contempt.

“Looking for this?” He dangled the ring in front of my face. “Isn’t this your favorite? You wore it every day like a dog. Gross.”

My voice broke: “Put it down, Jazzy. Put it down right now.”

He strolled in slowly like a little prince stepping onto a stage, smiling all the while.

“You always said you loved me the most. I just want to see—how much love you’ve got left.”

He placed the ring on a tray and lifted the heavy edge of the metal.

“Bang!”

The ruby split clean in two. Shards flew through the air, and so did my heart.

“You’re insane!” I lunged forward, voice raw. “That was the last thing my father ever gave me!”

He looked down at the fragments like one would a squashed bug. “Amazing. Something so valuable… belongs to a dead man.”

Then he looked up at me, eyes curved with a mock-innocent smile. “Go ahead, cry. Isn’t that your favorite game? Tragic Luna? Let’s see how long you can keep it up.”

I lost control. I grabbed his arm, trembling with fury. “Pick it up! Every single piece—pick it up!”

He flinched, clearly not expecting me to touch him.

“You’re crazy!” he yelled. “You have no right to lay a hand on me!”

My voice roared with fire: “I have every damn right! I raised you for eight years! I mourned your mother, took the blame, shielded you from storms—and you dare break my father’s ring?! PICK IT UP!”

He kicked the shards away, his gaze turning feral. “Why should I? He died just so you could live, right? Guess it wasn’t worth much after all.”

That’s when the door slammed open.

Alpha Azrael stormed in and slapped me so hard I hit the wall.

“Are you out of your mind?! He’s eight years old! And you want to hit him over a broken ring?!”

I collapsed to the floor, pain radiating from my chest—but my eyes were dead calm.

I stared at the man I once loved. The man I became Luna for. The man I suffered for.

“That wasn’t just a ring,” I said coldly. “It was the only thing my father left me. He pressed it into my hand before shoving me out of the fire. He died for it. For me.”

For a second, Azrael’s expression shifted.

He knelt down, gently wiping the tears from my eyes, his touch tender—as if he hadn’t just thrown me to the ground.

“You’re too tense, Aurora. This isn’t you,” he said softly, his voice like rain falling on stone—gentle, but cold.

“You know how stubborn Jazzy is. He just misses his mom too much.”

I stared at him, throat clogged, unable to speak.

He took my wrist gently, like calming a wild creature.

“All this… over a ring and a child?” he whispered. “You need to let go.”

“I know it was your father’s. But he’s gone. There’s no point clinging to things that belong to the dead.”

My breath hitched.

He looked down, voice coaxing: “Today is our anniversary. Did you forget?”

“I even prepared a ceremony. You should wear that pale blue dress—you look the best in it.”

I looked up at him, his eyes soft, like he was lulling me to sleep. But all I could see was a vast, bottomless void.

His so-called “anniversary” was the day I married him—the day I wore the Luna crown.

The same day my sister was buried. The day he watched me walk up to his throne, wearing the wedding dress she never got to finish.

Suddenly, I felt cold. Cold down to my bones.

“You’re an Alpha. I understand you need the perfect partner.”

My voice was soft, but brittle like cracked ice.

Footsteps echoed from the hallway. Jazzy hadn’t gone far. He stood at the door again, still toying with a shard of my broken ring like it was a trinket.

“Didn’t you say you were leaving?” he tilted his head. “Then go already. Don’t talk forever and still stay. It’s embarrassing.”

I took a deep breath, turned to look at him—then back at Azrael.

“You can relax now. I won’t pretend anymore.”

I paused. My voice was calm, my eyes like still water.

“Alpha Azrael, I’m leaving the Blackthorn pack.”