# Chapter 4
Kira's POV
I was ten years old when my mother decided she'd had enough of us.
It was my father's birthday. I'd spent the entire morning helping our pack's Beta decorate the living room with silver and blue streamers—Dad's favorite colors. My small hands had carefully wrapped his gift: a handcrafted leather journal I'd saved my allowance for months to buy.
"Daddy's going to love it," I whispered to Kim, my identical twin, as we set the table together.
But when evening fell, instead of celebration, I found myself chasing after my mother's retreating figure in our driveway, my bare feet slapping against the cold concrete.
"Mommy, please don't go!" I screamed, my lungs burning. "I'll be good, I promise! I'll clean my room every day!"
Vanessa Hoggins—formerly Silverstone—turned to look at me, her eyes reflecting the moonlight. She knelt down, her designer suitcase beside her.
"Kiki," she said softly, using my childhood nickname, "it's not about you being good or bad. I can't breathe in this pack anymore. I've found real happiness, real love."
"But Daddy loves you! We love you!" My voice broke as tears streamed down my face.
"Your father is a good man," she said, stroking my hair one last time. "But I was never meant to be just a Silverstone Luna."
Over her shoulder, I saw a black SUV waiting. A man I didn't recognize stood beside it, and next to him—Kim. My twin sister wouldn't meet my eyes as our mother took her hand.
"Why is Kim going? Take me too!" I reached for my sister, but my mother gently pushed me back.
"Stay with your father, Kira. He needs you."
I watched, disbelieving, as my mother led Kim to the car. The strange wolf man opened the door for them, and just like that, half my family vanished into the night.
I ran after them until my feet bled, collapsing in the dirt at the end of our property line as the taillights disappeared around the bend.
It wasn't until I was older that I understood what had happened: my mother had abandoned our pack, abandoning me in the process.
But she'd chosen to take Kim.
Twenty years later, my throat felt desert-dry as I faced my mother across her elegantly appointed living room. My feet felt heavy, as if bound by silver chains—the metal that weakened our kind.
"Sit down, Kira," Vanessa said, patting the space beside her on the cream-colored sofa. Her voice was soft, cultured—so different from the screaming matches I remembered from my childhood. "I'm glad to see you here. I've always thought about paying you a visit since my recent homecoming."
"Mom," I said, the word catching in my throat. It came out choked and small.
"Mom, I'm here about Dad," I continued. "I need some money. He's in a coma from wolfbane poisoning."
"Oh, yeah. Of course I can help," she said without hesitation. "Family is family, regardless of what happened between us."
A weight lifted from my shoulders. For the first time in months, I felt a spark of hope.
"Would you like to stay for dinner?" she asked.
Before I could respond, a familiar voice cut through the air.
"How desperate are you for cash that you're begging from my mother?"
Kim stood in the entryway, her designer handbag dangling from one arm, her expression a perfect blend of surprise and disdain. And behind her—my heart stuttered painfully—stood Rocco, his face an emotionless mask as he surveyed the scene.
"Kim," my mother said, her tone suddenly cheerful, "I didn't expect you two back so soon. How was the appointment?"
My twin's face broke into a radiant smile as she entered the room, completely ignoring my presence now. "It went perfectly! The doctor confirmed it—twins!" She placed a protective hand over her still-flat stomach. "Two healthy pups, both showing strong Alpha markers already."
The room tilted sickeningly around me. Twins. Kim was pregnant with twins. And from Rocco's proprietary hand on her lower back, there was no question who the father was.
"We're continuing the Blackwood bloodline," Kim announced proudly, looking directly at me now, triumph blazing in her eyes. "Rocco's legacy is secure."
I remember when you wanted our pup, Rocco. The memory of his voice ghosted through my mind. "Kira, we need an heir with Alpha blood," he'd whispered against my stomach countless nights.
And now he stood before me, proud expectant father to another woman's children. My sister's children.
My heart felt like it was being torn apart inside my chest. The syndrome flared hot and vicious, sending waves of agony through my body. I bit the inside of my cheek until I tasted blood, desperate to maintain my composure.
This can't be happening. The Moon Goddess is laughing at me.
A violent wave of nausea overtook me. "Bathroom?" I managed to gasp.
"First door on the left," my mother replied, concern flashing across her face.
I barely made it to the toilet before retching violently. The bitter herbs from Lucas's treatment came up tinged with blood—a bad sign. My body was rejecting the medicine meant to slow the syndrome.
Gripping the porcelain bowl, I tried to steady my breathing. Why her? Why my own sister? The betrayal cut deeper than I could have imagined. How could Rocco throw away our years together for Kim? What made her worthy while I was disposable?
A soft knock came at the door. "Kira? Are you alright?"
I flushed the toilet and rinsed my mouth, avoiding my reflection in the mirror. I knew what I'd see—a pale, hollow-cheeked version of Kim.
When I emerged, Vanessa was waiting, her forehead creased with worry. "You're not well."
"I'm fine," I lied automatically.
She studied me carefully. "You and Rocco Blackwood... what exactly is your relationship? Kim introduced him as her mate, but you..."
I stared at her, disbelief washing over me. She didn't know. Somehow, in this small, gossip-hungry wolf community, my mother didn't know I'd been married to Rocco for three years.
I turned to Rocco, who stood in the hallway, his face unreadable. "You didn't tell my mother about us?"
Vanessa's gaze darted between us. "Bond? Rocco, you already have a mate mark? But Kim—"
"Whatever was between Kira and me," Rocco said coldly, "is in the past. We'll be severing the ritual soon."
Three years of marriage, reduced to "whatever was between us." The nights we'd spent planning our future, the promises whispered in the dark, the dreams we'd shared—all meaningless to him.
White-hot rage surged through me, temporarily drowning out the physical pain. I reached into my purse and pulled out the small velvet box containing my wedding ring.
"Go to hell, you bastard!" I hurled the box at him with all my strength. "My biggest regret is accepting your mark! I'll see you at the Moonbreak Center tonight."
The box hit him squarely in the forehead, causing him to step back in surprise. A tiny red mark appeared where it struck—petty satisfaction, but satisfaction nonetheless.
I stormed past them all, deliberately stepping on the fallen box as I went. I couldn't bear another second in that house, with my mother's confused pity, Kim's smug triumph, and Rocco's cold indifference.
Outside, the sky had darkened, and rain began to fall in heavy sheets. I made it halfway down the driveway before my legs gave out. Too much—it was all too much. The betrayal by Rocco, finding my twin in his arms, the loss of my baby, my dying father, my own failing body... Kim's pregnancy was the final straw.
I collapsed to my knees on the wet gravel, rain soaking through my clothes. Maybe this was better. Maybe I should just let the syndrome take me now, let my wolf fade and my human body die here in the rain. At least it would be over.
The world faded to gray, then black.
