Chapter 3
The next morning, Alaric left early—"council meeting." His mind said *Vanessa's apartment*.
I used the silence.
First, I called my old faculty advisor. Confirmed the identity wipe was underway.
Then I unlocked the safe in my closet. Took out my original research journals—five leather-bound notebooks filled with viral genome maps that had once been called "revolutionary" by Nature magazine.
Before Alaric. Before the pack.
Before I traded a Nobel Prize trajectory for Luna duties.
I packed them into my carry-on. Passport. One photo of my parents—dead since I was twenty-one.
Nothing else. No jewelry. No designer clothes. No luna ceremonial robes.
Those things belonged to Alaric's wife.
And in forty-eight hours, she would cease to exist.
By noon, I'd drafted one document: dissolution of mating claim, signed under pack law, effective upon delivery.
I sealed it in an envelope. Placed it inside a velvet box—the same box that once held my anniversary gift for him.
That gift, a hand-forged titanium cufflink set engraved with our bonding date, was now melted slag in the building's incinerator.
I replaced it with my mating ring and the signed dissolution.
His surprise.
I set the box on the kitchen counter with a note: *"Open tomorrow morning. Not before. Trust me—it's worth the wait."*
At 3:00 PM, the penthouse buzzer rang.
I opened the door to Vanessa Drake.
Beta's daughter. Twenty-three. Legs that went on forever, wrapped in designer denim. Honey-blonde waves. A face made for pack magazine covers.
And behind those ice-blue eyes—triumph.
She didn't bother with pretense.
"Luna." The title dripped with mockery. She stepped inside without invitation—a dominance play no pack female would dare against a true Luna.
But I had no wolf. No aura. No power to push her back.
She walked past me. Trailed her fingers along the marble counter.
"Nice place. I've always admired the view from this side." Her gaze swept the open floor plan. "Alaric has taste. I'll give him that."
I leaned against the doorframe. Arms crossed.
"Can I help you with something, Vanessa?"
She turned. Smiled—all teeth.
"Actually, yes." Her hand slid to her flat stomach. "I'm carrying Alaric's pup."
The words landed like a hammer on glass.
"Eight weeks." She pulled out her phone—ultrasound image, grainy and damning. "He was so happy when I told him. Said he'd always wanted an heir."
I thought of every time I'd asked Alaric about children.
*"The Alpha bloodline is too volatile for a human-born mate. We can't risk it."*
He didn't reject pups.
He rejected mine.
"Congratulations," I said. Voice level. Empty.
Vanessa's confident smile faltered—she'd expected tears. Screaming. Begging.
Not this.
She recovered quickly. Stepped closer.
"I thought you deserved to know. Woman to woman." Her head tilted. "He's mine, Nora. He's been mine for eight months. And once this pup arrives, the elders will demand he take me as his official Luna."
I studied her face.
Young. Hungry. So certain she'd won.
She had no idea she'd just set me free.
"Is that all?" I asked.
Her composure cracked—just a flash.
"You... don't care?"
I opened the front door. Held it wide.
"Vanessa. You can have him. The penthouse. The title. All of it."
She stared. Mouth open.
"I suggest you leave now. I have packing to do."
She stepped through the door on autopilot, too stunned to resist.
I shut it in her face.
Then leaned my back against the cool wood.
Pressed my palm flat over my silent heart.
No tears. No collapse. Just the click of a lock turning.
Forty hours remain.
---
I used the silence.
First, I called my old faculty advisor. Confirmed the identity wipe was underway.
Then I unlocked the safe in my closet. Took out my original research journals—five leather-bound notebooks filled with viral genome maps that had once been called "revolutionary" by Nature magazine.
Before Alaric. Before the pack.
Before I traded a Nobel Prize trajectory for Luna duties.
I packed them into my carry-on. Passport. One photo of my parents—dead since I was twenty-one.
Nothing else. No jewelry. No designer clothes. No luna ceremonial robes.
Those things belonged to Alaric's wife.
And in forty-eight hours, she would cease to exist.
By noon, I'd drafted one document: dissolution of mating claim, signed under pack law, effective upon delivery.
I sealed it in an envelope. Placed it inside a velvet box—the same box that once held my anniversary gift for him.
That gift, a hand-forged titanium cufflink set engraved with our bonding date, was now melted slag in the building's incinerator.
I replaced it with my mating ring and the signed dissolution.
His surprise.
I set the box on the kitchen counter with a note: *"Open tomorrow morning. Not before. Trust me—it's worth the wait."*
At 3:00 PM, the penthouse buzzer rang.
I opened the door to Vanessa Drake.
Beta's daughter. Twenty-three. Legs that went on forever, wrapped in designer denim. Honey-blonde waves. A face made for pack magazine covers.
And behind those ice-blue eyes—triumph.
She didn't bother with pretense.
"Luna." The title dripped with mockery. She stepped inside without invitation—a dominance play no pack female would dare against a true Luna.
But I had no wolf. No aura. No power to push her back.
She walked past me. Trailed her fingers along the marble counter.
"Nice place. I've always admired the view from this side." Her gaze swept the open floor plan. "Alaric has taste. I'll give him that."
I leaned against the doorframe. Arms crossed.
"Can I help you with something, Vanessa?"
She turned. Smiled—all teeth.
"Actually, yes." Her hand slid to her flat stomach. "I'm carrying Alaric's pup."
The words landed like a hammer on glass.
"Eight weeks." She pulled out her phone—ultrasound image, grainy and damning. "He was so happy when I told him. Said he'd always wanted an heir."
I thought of every time I'd asked Alaric about children.
*"The Alpha bloodline is too volatile for a human-born mate. We can't risk it."*
He didn't reject pups.
He rejected mine.
"Congratulations," I said. Voice level. Empty.
Vanessa's confident smile faltered—she'd expected tears. Screaming. Begging.
Not this.
She recovered quickly. Stepped closer.
"I thought you deserved to know. Woman to woman." Her head tilted. "He's mine, Nora. He's been mine for eight months. And once this pup arrives, the elders will demand he take me as his official Luna."
I studied her face.
Young. Hungry. So certain she'd won.
She had no idea she'd just set me free.
"Is that all?" I asked.
Her composure cracked—just a flash.
"You... don't care?"
I opened the front door. Held it wide.
"Vanessa. You can have him. The penthouse. The title. All of it."
She stared. Mouth open.
"I suggest you leave now. I have packing to do."
She stepped through the door on autopilot, too stunned to resist.
I shut it in her face.
Then leaned my back against the cool wood.
Pressed my palm flat over my silent heart.
No tears. No collapse. Just the click of a lock turning.
Forty hours remain.
---