The Luna Who Took Nothing

Six years. One breeding contract. One Alpha who believed his human Luna married him for money. He paraded his assistant in front of her at every gala. He locked her in the darkness she feared most. He forced the antidote down her throat — never knowing she was carrying his child. On the last day of the sixth year, she walked out with nothing but a yellowed page and a miscarriage report. By the time he learned the truth, she was already gone.

At the Moonlight Gala, my husband Derek brought his assistant Camilla for the fifth time.

Everyone toasted her, and when she couldn't handle the moonwine, Derek's arm shot out to block the drinks for her. He picked the tenderest venison and placed it on her plate. He even draped his own cloak over her shoulders.

I watched it all. Didn't argue. Didn't make a scene. Didn't say a word. I just quietly got up and left.

Because six years ago, the pack elders had forced me to sign that humiliating contract:

Bear an heir within one year: ten million.

Bear an heir within three years: three million.

If no pregnancy within six years, no interference with my husband's affairs.

And this year was the sixth year.

The entire pack was waiting to see me humiliate myself. They were waiting for me to run up to Camilla with red eyes and start a fight, just like the last four times.

The young wolves had even started a live thread on the Moon Night Forum:

"What's Chloe going to do to Camilla this time?"

The comments were on fire.

"Everyone knows Chloe's just a human who clawed her way to Luna status on a breeding contract. Six years and not even a hint of a pup? She deserved to be replaced."

"Camilla's bloodline is way purer than Chloe's. She should be the pack's Luna."

"Chloe's just a greedy leech. She should crawl back to the human world where she belongs."

"Haha, if Chloe sees this, she's definitely going to throw another tantrum!"

A year ago, those comments would have kept me up all night. I'd have argued with every single one of them, desperately trying to defend my marriage.

Now I felt nothing. I calmly liked the comment supporting Derek and replied:

"You're right."

That move shocked the entire pack.

Even Derek's beta, Ryan, couldn't resist. He started a live stream and tracked Derek down at the gala to ask him directly:

"Derek, even that proud human Chloe has been tamed by you? Tell me your secret."

Derek didn't answer. He was staring at his phone at a new message.

[Alpha, the Luna just entered the pack's private vault.]

Derek let out a cold laugh. Then he sent me the link to Ryan's stream and sneered at the camera:

"Tamed? Please. Only money shuts her up."

"I bet this time it'll take at least ten million to make her happy. Am I right, my Luna?"

Watching my husband mock me like that, my heart ached with a sharp, stabbing pain.

The mate mark over my heart kept burning, reminding me—

A werewolf only has one fated mate. The bond forged under the Moon Goddess is unbreakable.

But in Derek's eyes, I was always just that pathetic human who sold herself for money.

Even after six years. Even with both our marks on each other's skin. He still thought money was all it took to shut me up.

I brushed away the tears I hadn't even realized were there, closed the stream, and walked into the private vault.

Moonstones. Gold bars. Century-old antique jewelry.

Everything was there. One piece could buy a mansion.

I didn't look at any of it. I walked straight to the back, opened the drawer, and took out a yellowed piece of parchment.

The truth was, when I married into the Thorn Pack six years ago, I'd signed two contracts.

The one Derek had seen was only half the story. There was another one—a termination clause.

"If no child is produced within six years, either party may choose whether to continue the bond."

I stared at the words until my vision blurred. Memories flooded back.

At eighteen, I met Derek at a campus ball. He'd spotted me from across the room and immediately recognized me as his fated mate.

He pursued me relentlessly. He wanted to bond with me.

And I fell for him just as hard.

So our first year of marriage was pure bliss.

In spring, he took me to the islands, where we ran barefoot along the shore chasing the ebbing moonlight.

In summer, we escaped to the Moonlight Springs, where he swore under the stars that he'd love me forever.

In autumn, we walked the Maple Avenue, and he clumsily carved our names into the falling leaves.

In winter, he took me to the far northern snowfields, shifted into his wolf form, and carried me across the tundra chasing the northern lights.

We were drowning in happiness. Our cross-species marriage was celebrated throughout the pack.

Until the Moonlight Gala in our third year, when the elders started pressuring me to produce an heir.

And the contract I'd signed with the council found its way to Derek's ears.

His eyes went wild and red as he demanded: "Chloe, did you become my mate because of me, or because of the Thorn Pack's fortune?!"

After that, everything fell apart. No matter how many times I explained that I'd only signed it so I could marry him, he'd already decided I was nothing but a greedy fraud.

From that day on, Derek was a different man.

He stopped using my name. In public, he only called me "Luna."

He promoted Camilla—who'd been just a regular office worker—to his personal assistant.

He deliberately brought her to every gala. He danced with her in front of me. He draped his jacket over her shoulders. He hovered over her like a devoted husband.

The elders said the Alpha treated Camilla more like a wife than he'd ever treated me.

At first, I cried. I screamed. I fell apart.

Derek just watched me break, cold and distant. Then he turned around and showed Camilla even more affection, using it as a knife to carve me open again and again, forcing me to confess to a crime I never committed.

He thought no matter what he did, I would never leave.

But he didn't know there was another clause on the second page of that contract:

If we still hadn't produced a child within six years, either party could choose to terminate the mate bond.

And now the six-year contract was up. Time for this whole farce to end.

I took the contract straight to the town hall and started the final process.

In seven days, the mate bond would be severed.

I would disappear from Derek's world forever.