Chapter 5

Elara POV:

I didn't sleep. How could I? I spent the night staring at the ceiling, feeling the last vestiges of my love for Damien drain away, leaving a hollow emptiness behind. By dawn, my decision was made. I used a secret communication device, a small, smooth stone given to me by my mother, to contact the Silver Moon envoy. My escape was being arranged.

I was sitting at the breakfast table, mechanically pushing food around my plate, when Damien came downstairs. He looked refreshed, happy even.

He sat down opposite me, his expression serious, but his eyes held a glint of excitement.

"Elara," he began, "I think it's time. We need to perform the rejection ceremony."

I looked up at him, my face a carefully constructed mask of calm. "Alright," I said, my voice steady. "Arrange it as soon as you can."

His jaw dropped. He was clearly expecting tears, pleading, a dramatic scene. My quiet acceptance threw him completely off balance.

"Wait, Elara, listen," he said, leaning forward, his voice earnest. "This is just... temporary. It's a formality. It's the only way to give Lyra's boy a legal identity in the pack. To protect him."

He reached across the table, trying to take my hand. "I promise you, as soon as it's done, I will go before the Moon Goddess and beg for her forgiveness. I'll take you back. You know you're the one I love. You and our baby."

I let him believe his own lies. I nodded slowly, as if I understood. "I see," I said, my tone perfectly even. "You have to do what's best for the pack. I understand an Alpha's difficult position."

Relief washed over his face. He actually believed I was buying it. "You're the best Mate an Alpha could ask for," he said, beaming. He leaned in to kiss me.

I turned my head just in time, and his lips met my cheek. He chuckled, thinking I was just being coy, still a little upset but ultimately forgiving.

"I'll go tell Lyra the good news!" he said, practically skipping out of the room and bounding up the stairs.

A moment later, I heard their muffled, joyous laughter from the floor above. They were celebrating. They thought their plan was perfect, that I was a fool who would wait patiently to be taken back.

Downstairs, alone in the silent dining room, my fingers closed around the cool, smooth surface of the Silver Moon sigil stone in my pocket. I looked up towards the ceiling, towards their celebration.

Fine, I thought. I will give you exactly what you want. I will grant you your wish, Damien.

And in doing so, I will grant myself my freedom.