[Another dying star was discovered today, my mate. How have you been? I long for you. ]

       When I retire, I don’t want to fade into an empty void like a collapsing black hole. I swear, I’ll return to our pack and stand by your side.

       But that day still feels so far away. My chest aches just thinking about it.

       Beta Zephyr—my fated mate—was raised in a distant pack, his humor dry and foreign. Over the past five years, his messages had piled into an insurmountable mountain, flooding my inbox with love letters and candid photos of me. I had backed up every piece, terrified they’d vanish one day. But I never answered. This bond had always been a solo performance—his devotion met with my silence.

       Unlike Alpha Dashiell, my so-called mate, I recognized the sacred bond the Moon Goddess had bestowed upon me. I wasn’t blind to it. I wasn’t faithless. I believed that with time, Zephyr would accept fate’s cruel joke and move on. But he never did.

       As I sat alone, scrolling through his old messages, a storm of emotions churned inside me. For a fleeting moment, two voices warred within me—one pleading for loyalty, the other whispering of freedom. Then my phone buzzed. A message.

       Alpha Dashiell had wired ten million dollars to my account.

       [This is my fault. Consider it my apology.]

       But no amount of money could erase my hatred.

       And in that moment, clarity struck me like a silver blade to the heart—I wasn’t living for my mate, nor my family. My life belonged to me.

       A rush of exhilaration surged through my veins as I typed my response to Zephyr.

       [It’s not far. Wait for me one moon cycle. I’m coming.]

       After our last explosive fight, an unspoken agreement had formed between Alpha Dashiell and me—separate rooms, separate lives. I stayed in the master bedroom; he moved into the second. But every night, when I stirred awake, his door stood ajar—an empty space beyond it.

       No doubt he was with Callista. And for once, I didn’t care.

       Piece by piece, I packed my life into boxes, each shipment carrying a part of me across the seas to Beta Zephyr. With every parcel sent, my past lost its weight, its hold on me slipping like grains of sand through my fingers.

       Then, one evening, Alpha Dashiell returned bearing a gift—an intricately designed silver tiara, the same one I had admired through a boutique window countless times.

       For the first time, he uncorked his prized bottle of red wine, meticulously setting up a lavish dinner for two.

       “Ione, the Elder Luna’s birthday is coming up,” he said, his voice smooth, calculated. “Let’s keep things civil for now.”

       A façade. A performance for the pack. Just as always.

       I nodded. “Okay.”

       The Elder Luna’s birthday had become a grand affair since he reached seventy. This year, the best banquet hall in the city had been reserved, filled to the brim with ranked wolves, allies, and pack members.

       As we stood before the entrance, Alpha Dashiell extended his hand. Out of habit, I took it. But this time, he didn’t just hold it—he entwined our fingers together.

       I tried to pull away. His grip tightened, pressing firmly against my knuckles. His gaze softened, his lips curving into something that resembled satisfaction before he led me inside.

       Then I saw her. Callista. Scurrying around, tending to his family, her every move delicate, efficient.

       I felt it. The subtle shift in him. His smile faltered, his fingers twitched against mine—guilt flickering across his face like a shadow beneath the moonlight.

       During the gathering, the same suffocating conversation resurfaced.

       My mother. My mother-in-law. Their words sharp as claws.

       “Are you hiding something from us? Five years mated, three years trying—where’s the pup?”

       “You both need to get checked.”

       “A fertility test is necessary. We’ll schedule it for tomorrow. No more excuses.”

       My forced smile wavered. Memories of Alpha Dashiell’s betrayals bled through my thoughts. My chest tightened, my vision blurred. Swallowing down the bitter sting in my throat, I lowered my gaze and wiped away a lone tear with the tip of my pinky.