A Luna’s Escape from a Hollow Mate after Forty Years

Back at the pack estate, I sat at the long stone kitchen table and reviewed the bond-severing contract—line by line.

Alistair, as an Alpha King, had surely hidden more territory gold and spirit stones than I could ever track. Males like him always did.

But I was tired. I no longer wanted to fight for what should have been mine.

The compensation from the severed bond, along with the sale of this estate, was enough. Enough to live quietly. Enough to survive alone. Enough to finally choose my own path.

When I finished, I leaned back and stared at the walls—the ones I had scrubbed, repaired, enchanted, and cared for over forty years. It was hard to tell where the house ended and where I began.

This den had wrapped around me like a second skin. Every cracked stone tile, every chipped cup carved with pack sigils, carried a memory.

My memory.

For a long time, I truly believed it was a happy one.

Before Rixana, I never knew Alistair had any sense of romance.

In forty years, not once had he brought me moon-bloom flowers. Every time I asked for small gestures, he answered with a sigh, a sneer, or silence.

Yet when it came to large matters—territory taxes, healer fees, our pup’s training—he handled everything.

That, I told myself, was his way of loving.

When I gave birth to our pup, he was gentle. Held my hand through the worst pain. Took leave from pack duties to stay beside me while I recovered. I thought he was simply quiet. Practical. Not emotional, but dependable.

Then Rixana appeared.

She always claimed she would never take a mate. Said bonds were chains. Laughed it off, calling herself a free wolf.

And for years, I believed I was the fortunate one.

Until she slipped into the cracks of my bond.

At some point, she and Alistair grew… too close. Every time I tried to mention it—even carefully—Alistair would explode. He accused me of being suspicious, jealous, unreasonable.

He said he was only being polite. That Rixana was my closest friend and deserved respect.

Rixana played her role well too—hurt, shocked, offended by the idea. And I believed them. I told myself I was insecure.

Now I knew better.

Maybe Alistair never shared a bed with her. Maybe there was no physical betrayal.

But he gave me the labor version of himself—pack meals, ledgers, chores.

And he gave her the romance.

Moon-bloom flowers. Gifts enchanted with care. Concert tickets fought for because she loved moon music.

I was the safe choice. The convenient Luna. The fallback.

It took me forty years to realize I’d been surviving on half-rotten grain. And I kept swallowing it until my body broke and the blood curse took hold.

Yet even now, buried under bitterness, I still thought…

Maybe it isn’t too late.

I had started packing. The estate would be handed over in a week.

I didn’t touch Alistair’s things. Or our pup’s. I only took what belonged to me.

As I sorted through old memories, a voice cut through the silence.

“There you go. This suits you better,” Alistair scoffed from behind me. “Packing. Cleaning. And you really thought you belonged at a moon concert?”

I didn’t answer. I simply handed him the bond-severing papers.

He took them carelessly—until he read them.

His face darkened.

“You must be joking,” he snapped, throwing the papers to the floor. “Severing the bond? Over this? You embarrassed us and now you want to tear the whole den apart over a concert?”

Our pup walked in at that moment, his eyes landing on the papers. He let out a long, irritated sigh.

“Mother, seriously?” he said. “You’re still clinging to that? Missing one concert isn’t the end of the world. We never went to them anyway. What changed?”

I looked at him—the cub who once promised to take me to every moon hall in the kingdoms. He said he’d be powerful and I’d sit in the front row while the wolves played only for me.

He had forgotten all of it.

He was Alistair’s pup now. Completely.

“You really think you can compare yourself to Aunt Rixana?” he added with a smirk. “She’s your age and still looks amazing. When she walks into a hall, everyone thinks she belongs. You walk in and they think you’re a servant who wandered in by mistake.”

He laughed.

I looked at him—the wolf he had become, sharp and cruel—and said softly, “I didn’t become like this overnight. If I hadn’t spent my life cooking for the pack, cleaning halls, raising you… if I hadn’t given everything, maybe I’d still—”

“Oh, stop,” he cut in, rolling his eyes. “You act like you suffered some great tragedy. You did chores. That’s it. If Aunt Rixana had bonded with Father, she’d have handled it better. Balanced everything. She wouldn’t be complaining now.”

Then he added, without hesitation, “Mother, stop this. You’re too old. Breaking a bond at your age? No one cares. You think the pack will side with you? You might not even be alive next moon cycle.”

The room went silent. My ears rang.

That was my pup.

The pup I carried, fed, protected through fevers and nightmares.

And now…

He was waiting for me to die.

My hands shook. My chest tightened. For a moment, I thought my heart would stop.

Alistair looked uncomfortable. Maybe even a little ashamed. But not enough to defend me.

He never would.

Instead, he nudged me toward the hearth.

“You know how he talks,” he muttered. “Don’t take it seriously. Finish the dishes and rest.”

Then he bent down, picked up the bond papers, and waved them. “I’ll pretend I never saw these. No need to embarrass yourself. You’ll regret it if you leave.”

He spoke like he was granting mercy.

Like staying in this cage was a gift.

He turned away.

I turned toward the sink.

It was a mess—crusted plates, sticky counters, empty cups from a gathering two nights ago. Our pup had hosted another party. I hadn’t cleaned. I hadn’t had the strength.

So no one did.

Because no one ever did.

Because in this den, I was the one who cleaned. The servant. The shadow.

I reached for the sponge—and stopped.

Something gold floated in the cloudy water.

I pulled it out, my fingers trembling.

A necklace.

My necklace.

The one Alistair gave me when we bonded. He said he couldn’t afford a ring, so he gave me this instead. Said he’d spent everything he had. Promised one day, he’d give me more.

I believed him.

Now it lay in dirty water, forgotten like every promise he ever made. That was when I knew. This bond had been a lie from the very beginning.

Alistair never loved me. To him, I was only free labor.

Someone convenient.

Someone easy to control.