Chapter 5 5

Her feet passed against the cold snow, the cold wind blew through her skin, a small heap of snow on her head. Her teeth chattering as she walked, eyes droopy from exhaustion, but she still pushed herself, one foot after another, Damian's mansion now far behind her. Her naive mind had conjured that Damian would come after her, but it was roughly 5 hours since she had left-no, kicked out.

She thought of her next move, but her head went blank; she had nothing on her. She wasn't allowed to take her luggage, much less her golden accessories, which would have really come in handy in this dire situation. Everything was gone: her position as Luna and Damian's wife, her belongings, everything.

She kept walking, and now, the borders of Shadowfang pack lay far behind her-the only home she had ever known taken away like a cruel nightmare. Damian, the man who once promised to cherish her, had cast her out like a broken thing, stripped of name and honor. The bitter taste of betrayal burned in her throat.

'How could he?' she thought, staggering beneath the weight of her grief and exhaustion.

'He promised protection, love, a future-but all he gave me was pain and disgrace.' Her fingers brushed the torn fabric of her dress, soaked with snow and dirt. And yet... why does this still hurt so much? The ache in her chest wasn't just from hunger or cold-it was the raw sting of being forgotten, discarded. I was his Luna. His mate. And now I am nothing.

Tears welled, but she blinked them away. She was alone, pregnant, with no shelter, no food, and no allies. The forest ahead was dark, the trees danced gently in the soft beat of the cold wind, the sky eerily cloudy. Her heart hitched when she heard the sudden howl of an owl; she turned quickly to see three more owls watching her. She gulped. She shouldn't be here, but it was the only place she could go. Heaven knew how long she would survive here before some wild animals came for her. Damian had known what he was doing; this was worse than death.

A sudden rustling snapped her from her thoughts. Noemie's heart pounded as she quickened her pace, eyes darting between shadows. Ahead, a scuffle broke out-snarls, growls, the harsh crack of claws and teeth. She stopped dead, fear knotting her stomach. Then she saw him: a man being overwhelmed by a pack of rogue werewolves, rough and wild, their faces twisted with rage.

Without thinking, Noemie sprinted forward, shouting, "Stop!" Her hands shook as she grabbed a fallen branch, swinging feebly at the attackers. They barely noticed her, snarling as they turned toward her. She stumbled under their weight, powerless, overwhelmed by their strength.

Then, as if summoned by her desperation, the man she had tried to save sprang up with astonishing speed. His tall frame moved with fluid grace, midnight-black hair whipping behind him. His eyes-striking gray orbs-blazed with fierce intensity. With swift, precise strikes, he dispatched the rogues one by one, his strength overwhelming theirs with effortless dominance.

Noemie could only watch, breathless and amazed.

When the last rogue fled into the shadows, the man turned to her, a faint smile playing on his lips. "Are you alright?" His voice was calm, confident, and brazen.

She nodded, brushing dirt from her skirt. "Thank you... I thought I could help, but I'm no fighter."

He laughed softly, the sound rich and warm. "I'm Pyrrhus Leone. I was testing how strong the rogues are." His gaze lingered on her, sharp yet unreadable.

Noemie opened her mouth to say, Noemie Domenico, but the name faltered on her tongue. She was no longer Damian's wife, no longer Noemie Domenico. Her identity had been stripped from her as surely as her home.

Instead, she breathed, "Noemie Moon."

An electric tension hummed between them, something unspoken and raw. Yet she quickly stiffened, reminding herself of Damian's betrayal, the bitter lessons of trust and love turned sour. She wouldn't let hope grow too fast-especially not for a stranger.

He studied her, as if reading her soul, and Noemie suddenly turned squeamish. A gentle smile spread across his lips. "Where are you headed? I'll take you there; you can consider it a reward for your..." he drawled. "Bravery," he let out a short laughter.

Noemie knew it was only a harmless joke, and it had been quite foolish of her to jump in while she was on the verge of fainting herself.

"I..." she gulped, not wanting to reveal anything about herself to this stranger she couldn't trust. "I am a wanderer from a faraway pack, relocating and finding refuge in a pack that doesn't reject strangers." She pressed her lips in a thin lie, hiding the fact she was pregnant.

"Come with me then, my pack is very... friendly," he chuckled. "We'll treat you nice."

Was it the intoxicating scent, the rich voice, or his good looks? Something about him was very alluring. Not having anything more to lose, she followed him.

As they neared the edge of a vast forest, Noemie's eyes widened in disbelief when Pyrrhus led her to a sprawling castle, sturdy and ancient, perched like a sentinel over the wild land.

"This is Thunderhowl Pack," Pyrrhus said quietly. "My family."

Her breath caught. Thunderhowl was legendary, one of the strongest packs in history. And she-an outcast, a hunted woman-was standing at its gates.

Inside, the atmosphere shifted. The news met them quickly: Pyrrhus's mother, the Luna, had been poisoned. The healers had gathered, grim-faced and defeated. No cure, no hope.

Noemie's heart clenched. She stepped forward, hands trembling but resolute. "Let me try," she whispered.

Suspicion flickered across their faces, but desperation ruled. Noemie knelt beside the Luna, closing her eyes. A warm glow blossomed in her palms, flowing gently into the woman's frail body. The room grew still, breaths held tight, until finally color returned to the Luna's cheeks. Her eyes fluttered open-alive.

Gasps and tears filled the chamber. Gratitude radiated like sunlight. Pyrrhus looked at her with newfound awe.

"You saved her," he said simply. "Thank you."

The pack welcomed her like a hero. They gave her a place of honor and wrapped her in kindness, something she had not felt in so long. No more whispers of betrayal, no cold shoulders or scorn. Only acceptance.

For the first time in months, Noemie allowed herself to breathe. To hope.

She was no longer Damian's castaway. No longer a prisoner of shame. She was Noemie Moon-strong, brave, and fiercely alive.

And for her child, she would fight like never before.

The past was buried behind her, swallowed by snow and sorrow.

This was her new beginning.

And she would never look back.