Luna Reclaims Her Power

I stared at the adoption papers spread across Vincent's mahogany desk, the black ink swimming before my eyes like poison seeping through water. My hands trembled as I gripped the edge of the chair, my knuckles white against the dark leather. The official seal of the state adoption agency seemed to mock me from the pristine white pages.

"Sign them, Carolina." Vincent's voice cut through the suffocating silence of his office, cold and detached as if he were discussing pack finances rather than our children. Our triplets. The three perfect pups I'd carried for nine months, nursed through sleepless nights, and loved with every fiber of my being.

Behind him, Sloane Webb stood with her manicured hand resting possessively on his shoulder, her crimson nails digging slightly into the fabric of his Alpha ceremonial jacket. A triumphant smile played at the corners of her glossy lips, and her green eyes sparkled with malicious satisfaction. She looked like a predator who'd finally cornered her prey.

"Multiple pups weaken the Alpha bloodline," Sloane whispered, her voice honey-sweet but laced with venom. "Three children will divide Vincent's power, make him vulnerable to challenges. The pack needs strength, not... complications."

My wolf, Luna, howled in anguish within me, clawing desperately at my consciousness. *Our babies,* she whimpered. *Our precious babies.*

"Vincent, please." The words scraped raw from my throat. "They're your children. Our children. How can you—"

"Enough." His Alpha command slammed into me like a physical blow, forcing my head to bow involuntarily. The mate bond that had once felt like warm sunlight now burned like acid in my chest. "The decision is made. Sign the papers, Carolina. The adoptive family is waiting."

I looked up at him through tears that refused to fall, searching desperately for any trace of the man who'd once promised to protect our family. His dark eyes held nothing but cold determination, his jaw set in that stubborn line I'd once found endearing. The Vincent I'd loved for eight years was gone, replaced by this stranger who could discard our children like unwanted possessions.

"They're only six months old," I whispered, my voice breaking. "They need their mother. They need—"

"They need a strong pack," Sloane interrupted, her fingers tightening on Vincent's shoulder. "Not a Luna who can't understand what's best for the Alpha's legacy. Vincent has to think about the future, about maintaining his position."

The pen felt impossibly heavy as Vincent pushed it toward me. Each breath came in ragged gasps, my chest constricting as if iron bands were crushing my ribs. Luna's anguish merged with my own, creating a spiral of pain that threatened to tear me apart from the inside.

"Sign them," Vincent repeated, his voice devoid of any warmth or regret. "Or I'll have Ryan escort you out and sign them myself as their Alpha father."

My hand shook violently as I picked up the pen. The first letter of my name felt like signing my own death warrant. Each stroke of ink was another piece of my soul being ripped away. Behind me, I could hear Sloane's soft, satisfied sigh.

The moment I finished my signature, something inside me shattered. Luna's anguished howl became a death scream that echoed through every cell of my body. The mate bond, already strained by months of Vincent's coldness and Sloane's manipulation, began to fracture like glass under pressure.

Pain unlike anything I'd ever experienced tore through my abdomen, sharp and brutal. I doubled over, gasping, as warmth spread between my legs. The metallic scent of blood filled the air, and distantly, I heard Vincent curse.

"What's wrong with her?" Sloane's voice carried a note of panic, but when I looked up through the haze of agony, I saw her pulling out her phone, the camera already focused on my crumpled form.

"The rejection trauma," Vincent said, but his voice seemed to come from very far away. "Sometimes when the mate bond is severed this brutally..."

I collapsed to the pack house floor, my vision tunneling as the pain intensified. Blood pooled beneath me, and I realized with growing horror that something fundamental had broken inside me. Not just my heart or my spirit, but something physical and irreparable.

Sloane's phone clicked repeatedly, capturing my humiliation, my destruction. Vincent made no move to help me, standing frozen behind his desk as if I were a stranger bleeding out in his office.

As consciousness began to slip away, I reached out desperately through the dormant mind-link I'd shared with Preston since childhood. *Preston,* I called silently, sending him fragmented images of the adoption papers, of Sloane's triumphant smile, of my own broken body on the floor. *Help me. Please.*

The last thing I saw before darkness claimed me was Sloane stepping closer to get a better angle for her photos, her satisfied smile burning into my memory like a brand.