Chapter 3

That night, I didn't confront them.

I didn't storm into Virella's chambers or demand answers from Garrick. I simply returned to my room like a ghost retreating to its tomb and closed the door behind me.

For a long time, I sat on the floor beside the bed, staring at nothing.

Their voices refused to leave me.

Three years.

For three years, they had deceived me while I stood faithfully beside my mate, believing every lie he fed me. I had spent countless nights praying to the Moon Goddess for a pup, blaming myself for every failure, while Garrick had already given his heart—and his future—to another she-wolf.

Eventually, I reached for my moonstone communicator.

There was only one person I trusted.

"Lyanna?" Healer Elira's sleepy voice answered through the connection. "What's wrong?"

I swallowed against the lump in my throat.

"I need your help."

The concern in her voice sharpened immediately.

"What happened?"

"I need you to investigate Virella's records. Quietly. Please."

A pause followed.

"Are you hurt?"

"No," I whispered. "But if I don't learn the truth, I think I might break."

The next morning, Elira contacted me through the mind-link.

I was tending the moon roses in the garden while Garrick and Virella shared breakfast inside the manor.

"What did you find?" I asked.

Elira hesitated.

"Lyanna... there was never a fertility ritual involving your bloodline."

My hands froze.

"What?"

"There are no records of egg blessings, no moonstone transfer ceremonies, no contracts witnessed by pack elders. Nothing."

I gripped the edge of the stone planter.

"What does that mean?"

"It means Virella was never carrying your pup."

The world seemed to fall silent.

"The child belongs to Garrick and Virella," Elira said gently. "It always did."

I ended the connection before she could say anything else.

The truth hurt more than any blade.

That evening, after Virella retired to her chambers and Garrick lingered beside her longer than any Alpha should, I found him alone in his study.

His expression darkened the moment he saw me.

"I spoke with Elira."

He said nothing.

"She found no records. No rituals. No agreements before the elders."

Still silence.

"You lied to me."

"I protected you."

The words struck me like a slap.

"No," I said, my voice shaking. "You used me."

His expression remained cold.

"I needed a strong heir for the Ironhowl bloodline. You couldn't provide one."

There it was.

The truth.

Simple. Cruel. Unapologetic.

"You stole years of my life."

"You were never strong enough to survive carrying a pup."

My hand connected with his cheek before I could stop myself.

The crack echoed through the study.

Garrick barely reacted.

"I gave you everything," I whispered. "My loyalty. My heart. My wolf. And all you ever gave me were lies."

His jaw tightened.

"You are Luna of the Ironhowl Pack. You have status, wealth, protection. Most she-wolves would be grateful."

"It's not enough."

For the first time, genuine irritation flashed in his eyes.

"What do you want, Lyanna?"

I lifted my chin.

"I want the mate bond severed."

The room went still.

Garrick laughed once.

A low, dangerous sound.

"No."

My wolf stirred restlessly beneath my skin.

"You don't get to decide that."

"I do," he replied. "And you're not leaving."

From that moment forward, the manor became a prison.

Pack warriors watched every entrance. My movements were monitored. Messages sent through moonstones never reached their destination without passing through Garrick's hands first.

To the pack, he claimed I was unwell.

"The Luna is overwhelmed," he told anyone who asked. "She needs rest."

Every day, the walls seemed to close in further.

Yet while my body remained trapped inside the Alpha Manor, my heart had already escaped.

And with every passing day, I swore the same thing to myself.

If Garrick believed he had broken me, he was about to discover how dangerous a wounded Luna could become.

The following morning, the familiar ache in my chest greeted me the moment I woke.

The manor no longer felt like home.

It felt like a monument to everything I had lost.

The servants avoided my gaze. Some looked at me with pity. Others with uncertainty.

The day before, I had even overheard one of them refer to Virella as the future Luna.

I hadn't corrected them.

What was the point?

Virella moved through the manor as though it already belonged to her. She wore my robes, sat in my favorite chair beside the fire, and carried herself with the confidence of someone who believed victory was already hers.

Perhaps it was.

I found her in the kitchen that morning, basking in a patch of sunlight streaming through the window.

She was drinking tea from one of my favorite cups.

When she saw me, a slow smile curved her lips.

"Did you enjoy what you discovered the other night?"

My stomach tightened.

"What?"

She tilted her head innocently.

"Oh, don't pretend. You finally learned the truth about Garrick and me."

I couldn't breathe.

The satisfaction in her eyes told me everything.

She had never been sorry.

Not once.