Chapter 1

Every time my fated mate strayed, his guilt bought me a moon-forged ring.

For four years, I collected ninety-nine rings. I swallowed his betrayals ninety-nine times to keep our pack stable.

Recently, while he claimed to be at a three-day border summit, I miscarried our heir. The shock of our fraying mate-bond killed the pup the exact moment I realized he was actually buying a secret territory for his childhood sweetheart.

When he finally walked through our door, holding out the hundredth ring—a priceless, ancient artifact—to buy my silence one last time, he expected his Luna to fall in line.

But he doesn't know the pup is gone.

And he has no idea I'm about to reject him in front of the entire pack.


Elara

Alpha Caleb walked into our bedroom just as I watched the pack healer's recovery scroll burn to ash in the fireplace.

For the last three days, he was supposed to be at a regional pack summit. In reality, he was busy celebrating another she-wolf's birthday.

He bought her a sprawling, million-dollar territory right outside our pack.

The psychic whiplash of that betrayal shattered our mate bond so violently that my body rejected our unborn pup.

Fresh from the pack clinic, I sat dead-eyed in front of my heavy oak jewelry chest. Ninety-nine moon-forged rings stared back at me.

Ignoring the healer's strict orders to consume only warm, cooked bone broth, I ripped into a slab of raw, bloody venison and chased it with biting mountain spirits. Eating raw meat this soon after losing a pup could turn a weakened wolf feral, but I didn't care.

Caleb crossed the floor in three long strides. He snatched the bloody meat from my hands and chucked it into the fire. "Are you insane? Your wolf is bleeding out internally. She can't handle raw kill right now. Think of the pup—you need to be more careful."

He dug into his leather travel bag, pulled out a velvet box, and shoved it toward me. "I brought you something. It wasn't easy to get."

Inside sat a heavy, ancient ring humming with lunar magic. Easily worth ten million.

He wasn't lying. A relic like this required twisting the arms of the High Elders.

Years ago, my inner wolf would have purred at the gesture, and I would have crawled into his lap.

Today? I felt nothing but ice. I didn't even blink at it.

Sensing the dead air between us, he dropped to a crouch. A thick, suffocating wave of calming Alpha pheromones rolled off him. "Are you pissed? Is this because I missed your mother's memorial at the Ancestral Grounds? Get dressed. I'll drive you there right now."

I stared at the wall. "Don't bother. The memorial was three days ago."

Before I let him claim me, I made one non-negotiable rule. We could skip the Solstice runs and the pack banquets, but he had to stand beside me at Elder Corinne's grave every single year.

He didn't miss it once for three years.

This time, I linked him right after my morning patrols. He smoothly replied he was already on the road to the summit.

I checked the border logs ten minutes later. The only envoy hadn't left yet, and his name wasn't on the roster.

I went to the Ancestral Grounds alone.

It was there, standing over my mother's grave, that the whispers hit me. Caleb wasn't at a summit. He was signing over a hidden territory to another female.

That was the exact moment the bond snapped, taking our pup with it.

"That was the memorial? Fuck, Elara, I completely lost track of the days."

His eyes went wide. The bitter sting of real guilt leaked into his scent.

He shifted onto one knee and gripped my cold, bloody fingers. "I'll make it right. I'll get you another ring, something better. This rock was twenty million, but I'll find you something priceless."

This was his routine. Whenever he slipped his leash, he played the frantic, devoted mate and buried his sins under a mountain of wealth.

In six years, he had never used his Alpha voice on me. To the territory, he was the flawless, protective mate.

Only I knew the rot underneath.

I opened my mouth, ready to drop the formal words of rejection and sever us for good. But my stomach let out a sharp cramp.

A devastatingly handsome smile broke across his face. He patted my head like a pup. "Let me go heat up some actual stew. You just decide what you want to make this right—another heirloom, or maybe a summer den."

He kissed my forehead and walked out.

Seconds later, his phone buzzed on the nightstand.

I swiped it.

The screen lit up. A text from Selene.

[Caleb, thanks for the private territory! Best three days of my life.]

My blood ran cold. My fingers practically bruised the screen as I pulled up her social feed.

Her new header image hit me like a physical blow. She was standing on a mountain peak, flashing a grin and a peace sign. Caleb stood beside her, facing away, but that broad, scarred Alpha back was undeniable.

I forced myself to scroll.

Every post for the last seventy-two hours was a highlight reel of their getaway.

[My Alpha is here—I don't have to lift a finger!]

[Goddess, my childhood crush has a lethal smirk. :)]

[POV: Getting spoiled way better than the actual Luna!]

Caleb had liked every single one.

The newest post was a poorly lit photo of the exact ancient ring sitting on my vanity.

[Gross. Such an ugly, outdated rock. I wouldn't let the Elders put this on my finger if they paid me.]

It was the only post he hadn't liked.

The phone vibrated in my palm again.

[Caleb, I downed too much moon-wine after you left. Can you sneak over tonight?]

My jaw locked. A low, violent growl ripped out of my throat.

Down the hall, his cheerful voice echoed. "Elara, stew's almost hot!"

Moving fast, I downloaded a stealth audio-spy app onto his device, wiped the download history, and carefully placed the phone back where he left it.

Caleb walked in carrying a steaming bowl of cooked meat. His eyes darted to his screen. The easy smile vanished instantly.

The hard, emotionless Alpha mask slammed into place. "Rogue sighting at the southern border. I need to get to the command center."

I picked up a spoon and stirred the thick stew. "If it takes all night, sleep at the packhouse."

"Right."

The sheer relief in his scent was nauseating. Before he left, my flawlessly devoted mate even ran the hot water for my bath, dutifully crushing recovery herbs into the tub.

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