Chapter 3

“You’re leaving?”

Alpha Azrael's gaze was calm, his fingers rhythmically tapping the armrest. His voice was as gentle as a spring breeze, but it sent a chill straight down my spine.

“Tonight, we’re receiving representatives from the Three Southern Clans. You know how important our alliance with them is.” He looked down at me, smiling like an old lover. “You’re Luna. Your place is by my side.”

I pressed my lips together in silence. Then he stood, walked over, and slowly held out a gown—a dress my sister had never worn before she died. Midnight blue silk, silver embroidery, and a delicate clasp at the waist engraved with her name.

“Tonight, wear this,” he said quietly. “What she couldn’t wear, you’ll wear in her place.”

In that moment, I almost laughed. So this was what I had been for eight years—nothing more than a breathing illusion.

The banquet went on as planned, guests overflowing, wine scent lingering. Azrael walked me in on his arm, and the crowd gasped in admiration.

“She looks just like Evangeline,” someone murmured. “Even her eyes…”

I smiled and nodded, as if I hadn’t heard it a hundred times before.

But inside, I was already breaking. That wasn’t a compliment. It was confirmation of my erasure.

After the feast, I declined Azrael’s attendants, slipped out of the ceremonial gown, pulled on a cloak, and snuck out of the stronghold.

I only wanted to visit the cemetery. One last time.

The night wind was bitter as I cradled the newly changed offerings and walked toward the familiar gravestone.

I knelt at her grave and laid down the worn diary. Beside it, I placed three roses—red for loyalty, white for sacrifice, and black…

Black for me.

“I can’t do this anymore, Evangeline,” I whispered. “I’ve stood in for you for eight years—this alpha, this child—but they never once looked at me like I mattered.”

“And now I’m leaving. If you can hear me… don’t blame me.”

I planted the roses one by one in the soil, gently arranging the offerings. The candle flame quivered in the wind. For a second, I thought I heard her voice drifting in the breeze: “Are you still holding on?”

Soft footsteps approached.

“You chose tonight to say goodbye because it means the most to you, didn’t you?” It was Robin. He stood behind me, his voice softer than the night itself.

I didn’t turn around—just nodded.

He crouched beside me, staring at the faded photo on the gravestone. “You’ve really decided?” he asked quietly. “Just like that, you’ll go?”

“Yes.” My voice was barely audible. “I’ve held on too long.”

Robin looked at me, eyes heavy with both persuasion and regret. “Aurora, what you’ve done for Blackthorn… it’s more than they’ll ever acknowledge. The pain you endured—they’ll never understand.”

I gave a bitter smile. “They never intended to.”

He was quiet for a while, then tried once more. “Jazzy’s still young. He doesn’t understand now, but someday—”

“No,” I cut in softly, shaking my head. “He won’t. Haven’t you seen the hatred in his eyes? That’s not confusion—it’s a seed. And it’s already taken root.”

Robin opened his mouth but said nothing.

I gently traced the inscription on my sister’s grave, speaking each word with precision. “I gave everything. I taught him etiquette, tactics, diplomacy. I handled Azrael’s affairs, calmed the elders, negotiated the borders… I turned myself into her ghost, just to keep this pack from collapsing.”

“But to Azrael, I was just a tool—a Luna for public relations, a woman for his bed.”

“And Jazzy… he hates me. Hates that I’m alive. Hates that I survived. Hates that I’m not his mother.”

I turned to Robin, meeting his eyes for the first time.

“Tell me—how could I stay in a ‘family’ like this?”

His lips parted, pain flashing across his face. In the end, all he did was sigh. “I’ll inform the elders for you. You won’t have to face their stares anymore.”

I nodded, but didn’t thank him.

I leaned my forehead against the cold stone, tears falling silently.

Suddenly, the sound of crushed leaves reached my ears.

I sprang to my feet and turned—Jazzy stood in the shadows of a nearby gravestone, cloaked in black.

“Done crying?” he asked lazily, approaching with slow, deliberate steps.

I said nothing.

“She came to me in a dream,” he murmured, gazing at the sky like reciting a prophecy. “She said you stole her place.”

“She told me you shouldn’t have stayed. Did you know she came three times in my dreams… to say you should die?”

My jaw clenched. My voice trembled, hoarse. “You really believe that was her?”

He tilted his head and smiled. “Doesn’t matter. I believe it. That’s enough.”

Then, in one fluid motion, he tossed something from his pocket into the trees—a chunk of meat, dripping blood.

My pupils shrank.

“Jazzy, what did you do?”

“You like playing the savior, don’t you?” He spread his arms, innocent smile curving his lips. “So I’ve arranged your martyrdom.”

He stepped closer, squinting. “You should’ve died that day. She should’ve lived. It should’ve been you, not her.”

A low growl broke the air. Crimson eyes gleamed in the darkness—not one pair, but three… five…

Wolves, drawn by the scent of blood, crept closer from the woods.

I stepped back, heart pounding.

And then I realized—he had fed them beforehand, conditioned them. He wasn’t afraid of being bitten. He knew these wolves would only attack outsiders—those without the pack’s scent.

I was no longer Jazzy’s family. No longer Luna.

To these wolves, I was prey.

“You’re insane,” I said coldly.

Jazzy sat by the grave, legs crossed, eyes filled with mock pity. “No, I’m perfectly sane. You’re just a human who wandered into the wrong den. Time to leave.”

I turned slowly to face the snarling wolves. In my hand was only a candle… and a small knife.

Ridiculous.

The first wolf lunged. I stabbed its shoulder. It recoiled slightly, but the blood only riled the others further.

I knew—I wasn’t going to survive tonight.

But I couldn’t die here. Not at my sister’s grave. Not by her son’s hands.

Just as the second wolf leapt—

A sharp whistle rang through the air.

Robin.

He charged into the cemetery with a team of warriors.

The wolves scattered. I collapsed, a long gash torn across my arm.

Robin knelt to lift me, fury blazing in his eyes.

Jazzy was gone.

All that remained was a message carved into the tree behind the gravestone:

“Mother’s love can’t buy loyalty. The Luna’s act is over.”