# Chapter 2

Kira's POV

Cold tiles pressed against my bare feet as I stood in the bathroom, staring at my reflection without really seeing it. The shower I'd just taken hadn't washed away the hospital smell or the hollow feeling in my chest.

I'd lost everything, in like just hours?

My hand instinctively moved to my stomach—flat now, empty. No growing pup. No future as a mother. Just... nothing.

"Why?" I whispered to my reflection, watching a tear slide down my cheek. "Why did you do this, Rocco?"

The bond was broken. That constant, warm connection that had linked us—just... snapped. The silence in my mind was deafening.

I gripped the edge of the sink as another wave of weakness washed over me. Bondbreak Syndrome. Even as a werewolf medical researcher, I'd only seen it twice during my residency—a mythical condition most wolves never witnessed in their lifetime. And now it was killing me from the inside out.

I'd given up everything for him. My promising career in werewolf medical research, my independence, my dreams—all sacrificed to be the perfect Luna for the Blackwood pack. I'd thought it was worth it because I loved him, and I believed he loved me.

"What a fucking joke," I muttered, splashing cold water on my face.

When we first met, Rocco had been... different. Gentle, even. Despite being the Alpha heir to one of the most powerful pure-blood families, he'd pursued me with a tenderness that made me feel cherished. Protected. Loved.

"You're the one, Kira," he'd whispered the night he marked me. "My wolf has never wanted anyone like it wants you."

Lies. All of it.

For the first two years, we'd been happy—or at least I thought we were. Then I got pregnant, and within a month, everything changed. The late nights at the office became more frequent. The passionate kisses turned perfunctory. His scent on our sheets grew fainter as days passed between his visits to our bed.

But it wasn't anxiety. It was betrayal.

I closed my eyes, feeling my wolf stir restlessly within me. She was weakening too, growing quieter each day as the syndrome progressed. Soon, she'd fade completely, leaving me human before I died.

What's the point of fighting? We've lost everything.

The dark thought slipped in before I could stop it. My mate, my pup, my health, my future—all gone in the span of a single day.

But not my father. I still had Dad.

The phone's shrill ring jolted me from my thoughts. I stumbled from the bathroom, nearly falling as my legs threatened to give out beneath me. The caller ID showed the werewolf medical center's number.

My heart stuttered. "Hello?"

"Ms. Silverstone? The nurse from Silver Crescent Medical Center said your father's condition has deteriorated suddenly. Dr. Bennett has ordered emergency treatment protocols."

"I'll be right there!" I hung up, panic surging through me as I scrambled for clothes.

I drove well above the speed limit, praying to the moon goddess I no longer trusted. Please, not him too. Don't take everyone from me.

I burst through the medical center doors thirty minutes later, my breath coming in sharp gasps. The sterile scent of silver-infused antiseptic burned my nostrils as I rushed to the special treatment wing reserved for werewolf patients.

Outside the treatment room, I paced the hallway.

Dad had been in a coma for nearly a year after being found unconscious with silver poisoning. No one knew how it happened—just another mysterious tragedy that had befallen the once-respected Silverstone family.

"Please be okay," I whispered, my throat tight. "Please, Dad. I can't lose you too."

I'd already lost everything else—my mate, my unborn pup, my health. If Dad died too... I didn't know how I'd find the strength to keep going.

After what felt like hours, a nurse approached with a clipboard. "Ms. Silverstone? I need you to sign off on today's treatment costs."

I took the clipboard, my eyes widening at the figure. The emergency silver toxin neutralizer alone cost $15,000, not counting the standard daily care fees for a comatose werewolf.

"Is there a problem?" The nurse's expression was sympathetic but firm.

"No," I mumbled, signing my name. "No problem."

At the payment counter, the administrator's fingers clacked over her keyboard. "That brings your total outstanding balance to $147,832. How would you like to handle payment today?"

My stomach dropped. I transferred the last of my savings—just under $5,000—and watched my account balance plummet to $987.50.

"I'll... I'll take care of the rest soon," I promised, my cheeks burning with shame.

My hands trembled as I stared at the pathetic sum—all that remained of my savings after months of medical bills. My stomach clenched with a sickening mix of desperation and humiliation. I had no choice. No fucking choice at all.

I stepped into a quiet corner, my heart hammering against my ribs as I pulled up the contact I'd sworn I'd never touch again. My finger hovered over Rocco's name, bile rising in my throat.

I pressed call, each ring making me flinch as if physically struck.

"What do you want?" His voice was ice cold through the speaker. "The wolf hour at Moonbreak Center isn't until midnight. You know it only handles divorce matters between twelve and one AM, right?"

My heart stuttered. "I—I know. I'm not calling about that."

"My father had an emergency," I explained, trying to keep my voice steady. "He had a severe silver toxin reaction and was rushed to intensive treatment. I couldn't—"

"No," he cut me off. "I won't save him."

I swallowed hard. "I need your help, Rocco. The medical bills... I can't keep up with them anymore. I need about..."

His laugh was cruel. "Let me be clear, Kira. I hope your father dies. It would solve so many problems." My breath caught at the venom in his voice. "I'll give you the money you need, but only after we are officially divorced."

The line went dead. I sat frozen, the phone still pressed to my ear.

My body trembled with rage and shock, tears burning my eyes as I fought to breathe. How could he say that? How could he wish death on my father—the same man he'd once claimed to respect? My stomach clenched with nausea as his words replayed in my head. This wasn't just rejection or indifference—this was pure hatred.

Suddenly, pieces began falling into place. Two years ago, just before our wedding, the Silverstone pack's standing had plummeted overnight. Our main allies suddenly withdrew support. Suppliers broke contracts without explanation. Resources we'd relied on for generations became inaccessible.

And who had benefited? The Blackwood pack. They'd absorbed our former allies, taken over our supply chains, claimed our traditional territories.

At the time, I'd thought it was just business—the natural rise and fall of pack fortunes. But what if it wasn't? What if Rocco had orchestrated it all?

This was like a...revenge, but for what? But that was my priority. I should cover the bill first.

Walking to my car, I considered my options. $987 wouldn't cover even a fraction of Dad's care. I had nothing of value left except...

I touched the platinum band on my finger, the moonstone in its center catching the light. My wedding ring.

As I drove toward Silver Moon Jewelers, I tried not to think about what might have been. If I hadn't gotten pregnant and quit my research position, I'd have been on track to become the youngest werewolf endocrinology specialist in the region. I'd have had my own income, my own standing.

What a fool I was.

The jewelry store was quiet when I entered, the rich scent of leather and expensive perfume filling the air. The clerk looked up, her gaze sweeping dismissively over my damp hair and simple clothes.

"May I help you?" Her tone suggested she doubted I could afford anything in the display cases.

"I want to sell this," I said, sliding the ring across the counter along with its certification papers. "It's a Lunar Eclipse design by Viktor Petrov. Platinum setting, blue moonstone center, diamond accents."

Her eyebrows rose as she examined the paperwork. "This will take time to authenticate."

"Please hurry," I said, hating the desperation in my voice. "My father needs this."

The clerk's expression softened slightly. "I'll see what I can do."

She disappeared into a back room. I stood waiting, fighting another wave of weakness. The syndrome was progressing faster than I'd expected. I needed to start Lucas's herbal treatments soon, painful as they would be.

Lost in thought, I didn't notice the store's door opening until a familiar scent hit me—familiar yet wrong, like a distorted mirror of my own.

"That ring is beautiful," came a voice that sounded eerily like mine, but more confident. "I'll buy it."

I turned slowly, my heart pounding, and found myself staring at... myself. Almost. Same eyes, same face, but where I was pale and thin, she was glowing with health and vitality.

Kim. My twin sister. The woman who'd fucked my mate.