Olivia Mitchell: Rejected Luna

The scent of moonflowers used to mean love—ten years of devotion distilled into a single fragrance. Now it chokes me. I was Luna Olivia, the heart of the Crescent Moon Pack, the woman who saved her Alpha’s life at the cost of her unborn child. But on our tenth anniversary, I found him pressed against another woman, their son sleeping between them like a cruel punchline. The betrayal didn’t come once. It came every morning when she served breakfast in my kitchen, every night when he returned smelling of pine and lies. And when they stripped my necklace from my throat and placed it around hers, I realized: I wasn’t just betrayed. I was erased. But wolves don’t die quietly. We rise. And now, as the mate bond shatters and freedom burns through my veins, I must ask myself—not who will I become, but who have I been all along?

Olivia Mitchell: Rejected Luna

The scent of moonflowers used to mean love—ten years of devotion distilled into a single fragrance. Now it chokes me. I was Luna Olivia, the heart of the Crescent Moon Pack, the woman who saved her Alpha’s life at the cost of her unborn child. But on our tenth anniversary, I found him pressed against another woman, their son sleeping between them like a cruel punchline. The betrayal didn’t come once. It came every morning when she served breakfast in my kitchen, every night when he returned smelling of pine and lies. And when they stripped my necklace from my throat and placed it around hers, I realized: I wasn’t just betrayed. I was erased. But wolves don’t die quietly. We rise. And now, as the mate bond shatters and freedom burns through my veins, I must ask myself—not who will I become, but who have I been all along?

Ten years of lies end tonight.

I hold up the document. His signature stares back at me—steady, unshakable, already signed. Mine is not.

The wind shifts. Moonflowers bloom nearby, their scent thick and rotting. I press my left palm to my abdomen. Lyra growls beneath my skin, silver rippling along my arms.

Ryan crawls forward. "Take it back. I’ll send her away. I’ll burn the cottage. I’ll—"

"You’ll what?" My voice drops. Low. Final. "Swear loyalty on a tongue that’s tasted another woman’s mouth? On a fang that marked me, then marked *her*?"

Natasha screams again from behind the stones. “She’s killing our future!” A Delta warrior silences her with a grip to the throat. Blood smears her collarbone—her own doing, her own design. She wanted a martyr’s wound. She got a liar’s stain.

I step past Ryan. Toward Kaelen.

He stands at the tree line, silent. Watching. Not reaching. Not demanding.

I tear the document slowly down the center.

Then stop.

His breath catches.

I turn back to Ryan. "You think this is about power? About rank?" I drop the paper at his knees. "This is about choice. Mine."

I walk toward Kaelen. Barefoot. Unbound.

“Olivia,” he says.

I don’t answer.

Instead, I lift my hand to my throat—the hollow where the necklace once lay.

And for the first time in ten years, I let it stay empty.