Chapter 3

Sylvia's POV

I dragged myself through the forest, each step sending fresh waves of agony through my torn shoulder. The gash ran deep enough that I could feel my wolf struggling to heal it, her strength nearly gone after one month of relentless searching.

One month since Lily vanished. One month of combing through every inch of territory, following every false lead, chasing every shadow that might be my daughter. One month of Ethan doing absolutely nothing.

The pack house came into view through the trees, and something was wrong. Light blazed from every window, spilling golden warmth across the grounds. Music drifted on the evening air, mixed with laughter and the clink of glasses.

A celebration? Now?

My wolf snarled weakly in my mind. While our pup is missing?

I stumbled forward, my vision blurring at the edges. Blood dripped steadily from my wounds, leaving a trail behind me. The beast that attacked me had nearly killed me. Would have killed me, if I hadn't been so desperate to survive, to keep searching, to find my baby girl.

The pack house doors stood open, warmth and music flowing out into the night. I staggered toward them, one hand pressed against my bleeding shoulder, the other clutching a tree for support.

Inside, the Great Hall was transformed. Streamers hung from the rafters in silver and gold. Tables were loaded with the finest food, roasted venison, fresh bread, delicacies I hadn't seen since before the war. Pack members dressed in their best clothes mingled with visitors, wolves from neighboring packs I recognized from territorial meetings.

And in the center of it all stood Clara, radiant in a dress that made her look like she was glowing. A crown of silver flowers rested on her blonde hair.

Ethan stood beside her, smiling as he adjusted the flower crown, his fingers gentle as they tucked a stray curl behind her ear.

My heart stopped. This is a birthday party. Clara's birthday party.

One month. It had been exactly one month since Lily disappeared, and Ethan was throwing a celebration.

"For Clara!" someone shouted, raising their glass high. The crowd echoed the toast, voices ringing with genuine affection.

"For Clara!"

"To our Alpha's most treasured friend!"

I watched Ethan lift his own glass, his expression warm and open. "To Clara," he said, his voice carrying across the hall. "May you always know how valued you are."

Clara's cheeks flushed pink. She ducked her head, looking all modest and grateful, and whispered something that made Ethan laugh.

The sound of his laughter felt like a knife twisting in my chest. Our daughter is gone. She's been gone for a month. And he's laughing.

I tried to step forward, to call out, but my legs wouldn't hold me anymore. I sagged against the doorframe, my blood-soaked hand leaving a dark smear on the pristine white wood.

"Ethan..." The word came out as barely a whisper, lost beneath the music and chatter.

No one noticed. No one looked toward the door where their Luna stood bleeding and broken. No one except the Beta, Marcus, whose eyes went wide with horror. He started toward me, but I shook my head slightly. What would he do? Stop the party? Draw attention to the Luna that the Alpha had clearly forgotten?

Besides, I couldn't tear my eyes away from the scene before me.

Ethan was presenting Clara with a gift, a delicate necklace that caught the light.

"It's beautiful," Clara breathed, her fingers trembling as she touched the pendant. "Ethan, you shouldn't have."

"Nothing's too good for you." He fastened it around her neck, his hands lingering on her shoulders. "You've been through so much. You deserve to be celebrated."

And what about me? What about what I've been through? What about Lily?

But I knew the answer. I'd known it for one month, watching Ethan visit Clara daily with the finest foods, the best medicines, his time and attention freely given. While he brushed off my pleas to expand the search, to reach out to other packs, to do anything more than the bare minimum to find our daughter.

"Luna?" Marcus appeared at my side, his face tight with concern. His hand hovered near my arm but didn't quite touch, like he wasn't sure whether supporting me would be considered disrespectful to the Alpha. "You're hurt. Let me get the healer—"

"No. Don't interrupt the celebration."

"But you're bleeding badly. That wound needs immediate attention."

I looked down at myself properly for the first time. My clothes were shredded, soaked through with blood. Deep claw marks scored across my shoulder and down my side, still weeping red despite my wolf's attempts to heal them. I looked like I'd crawled out of hell.

Which, I supposed, I had.

"I'll clean up first." I pushed away from the doorframe, swaying slightly. "Can't have the Luna looking like this at Clara's birthday party."

The bitterness in my voice made Marcus flinch.

"Luna, please—"

"Tell me something, Marcus." I turned to face him, and whatever he saw in my expression made him step back. "When was the last time the Alpha asked about the search? When was the last time he went out looking for Lily?"

Marcus's silence told me everything.

"That's what I thought." I straightened my spine despite the agony it caused. "I need to know something else. This party, how long has it been planned?"

"Two weeks," he admitted quietly. "The Alpha wanted it to be perfect."

Two weeks. Fourteen days of planning and preparation, of selecting decorations and food and guests. Fourteen days that could have been spent organizing search parties, reaching out to neighboring packs, following leads. Fourteen days that Ethan spent making sure Clara's birthday would be unforgettable.

Through the bond, I felt nothing. That thin thread connecting mate to mate had grown so cold and distant I could barely sense it anymore. Ethan hadn't even noticed I was injured, hadn't felt my pain through our connection because he'd closed himself off so completely. Or maybe he just didn't care.

Inside the hall, Clara laughed at something Ethan said. The sound was light and musical, nothing like the screams that echoed through my dreams every night, Lily's voice calling for me, begging me to find her, to save her.

Why can't you love our daughter the way you love her? Why isn't Lily worth this effort? Why isn't she worth anything to you?

But I already knew. I'd known for years, really, even if I'd refused to admit it to myself. Clara was Ethan's true priority. His real mate, in everything but name. And I was just an obligation. A mistake he'd been forced to honor because the Moon Goddess had been cruel enough to make me his mate.

"Luna." Marcus touched my arm gently. "At least let me help you to your room. You're about to collapse."

He was right. My legs were shaking, my vision starting to tunnel. I'd lost too much blood.

"Okay," I whispered.

He supported me as we moved away from the hall, away from the music and laughter and celebration. Every step felt like wading through water. By the time we reached my room, Ethan and I hadn't shared quarters in months, I could barely stand.

Marcus lowered me onto the bed and rushed to find the healer. I lay there in the darkness, listening to the distant sounds of the party, to Clara's laughter carrying on the night air.

And I finally let myself admit the truth I'd been avoiding for one month, for five years, maybe for my entire mating. Ethan didn't love me. He'd never loved me. And he would never love Lily the way he loved Clara.

My daughter was lost, possibly dead, and her own father couldn't be bothered to skip a birthday party to look for her.

What kind of mother am I? I can't even make my mate care that our child is missing.

The healer arrived eventually, her face carefully neutral as she examined my wounds. She worked in silence, cleaning and stitching and wrapping bandages, her movements efficient and practiced.

Through it all, the party continued downstairs. Through it all, Ethan never came.

"Ethan..."