Marked by Him, Reborn Without Him

Ronan slammed a folded document against my chest.

“I had Elior’s DNA tested,” he said, his tone devoid of warmth. “This proves everything.”

He let go abruptly, and my hands trembled as I opened the paper, my pulse thundering so loudly it drowned out every coherent thought.

It was a DNA test.

His name. Elior’s name.

A paternity report.

My limbs went rigid. My vision swam as I read the lines.

No.

I shook my head violently. “No… That’s not true. It’s a lie! Elior is your son!”

“This has been forged! How could you believe this garbage?” I gasped, my wolf thrashing inside me, clawing its way toward Ronan’s wolf—only to be slammed against an impenetrable wall.

He had locked me out.

Shut the bond down completely.

I burned with rage. My grip on the paper tightened, and in a flash, I tore it into jagged pieces, shredding it with every ounce of fury.

Ronan scoffed, disgust written all over his face. “That’s your answer? Seriously?” His voice rose, sharp and furious. “Selene, are you kidding me right now? You lied to me. Who’s the real father? Huh? You had me raising someone else’s kid!”

His fists were clenched so tightly they shook. And then, unexpectedly, he laughed. A bitter, broken sound.

“This isn’t real,” I murmured, my throat closing. “He’s your son! That test—it was tampered with! Someone manipulated it to hurt us!”

“Don’t give me that crap!” he snarled, his voice turning primal. “You’re a filthy liar! I had three tests done, Selene—three separate labs. And they all said the same damn thing.” He was breathing heavily now, his nostrils flaring. “Stop treating me like I’m stupid. I’ll never forgive you for this betrayal.”

I looked at him, stunned.

Ten years, Ronan. A whole decade.

Did he never notice? Elior had his eyes. His smile. Even that infuriating smirk.

I laughed. Dry and hollow, without a trace of humor.

His face twisted in anger. “What the hell is funny to you right now? Do you think this is some kind of joke? Was I your little game all along? Did you enjoy making a fool out of me?”

He was hurting—I could see it in the tremble behind his fury.

But he wasn’t the only one.

He had shattered me.

He had abandoned our child.

“You said you loved me,” I whispered, my voice cracking. “Loved. Past tense.”

His jaw tightened, but he stayed silent.

“I still care about you,” he said eventually, cold and rigid. “But if you had just told the truth, maybe Elior wouldn’t have—” He didn’t finish. Just shook his head and looked away. “Regardless, you’re going to face consequences. You lied to me. And to the pack.”

I froze.

“Consequences?” I repeated, stunned. “Are you serious right now?”

I let out a weak, breathless laugh, eyes narrowing. “You’re actually talking about punishment?” My voice cracked with disbelief. “For what? For mourning my child? For feeling pain so deep I can barely breathe?”

My fingers dug into my chest as tears burned behind my eyes. “You shattered me, Ronan. You ripped me apart the moment you turned your back on us. You walked away. You let us face those monsters alone. And then he… he died in my arms…” My words broke into sobs.

Ronan’s eyes flickered—just for a moment—with guilt. But then his expression hardened again.

“He wasn’t my child,” he said, ice in his voice. “He was yours.”

Something inside me snapped.

“You HEARTLESS BASTARD!” I screamed.

I grabbed a nearby vase and hurled it at him. It shattered as it struck his chest, shards scattering across the room.

Ronan didn’t flinch. Didn’t dodge.

“You cold, unfeeling monster!” I shrieked, my hands grabbing whatever I could find to throw. “Elior is dead! He died because of you! Because of YOU! He was OUR son! Don’t you dare deny it!” My vision blurred completely. I couldn’t see anything but grief. “HE. WAS. YOURS. You arrogant, useless Alpha!”

His expression went pale. His lips parted ever so slightly.

He hadn’t seen this version of me before.

He had always imagined me as the perfect Luna—the quiet one. Gentle. Dignified.

Now he was looking at the woman he had broken.

And I loathed him for it.

“You let him die!” I choked. “You didn’t lift a single finger to save our child! And now you talk about punishment? You think I need forgiveness? I will never forgive you! You stole my son—you stole the life I had with him!”

I grabbed another vase—whatever my hand landed on—and hurled it at him again.

“That’s ENOUGH, Luna!” Ronan barked, surging forward and seizing my wrists.

“Enough?!” I screamed directly in his face, my entire body thrashing. “You have the nerve to say enough? All of you are the same! You selfish, cold-hearted Alphas!” I struggled against his grip like a wild thing. “Elior is gone! And none of you—not even you—fought to save him! Why, Ronan? Why didn’t you come?”

My tears were hot, endless. I hated the way my voice cracked, how broken I sounded.

His grip turned harsh. His voice lowered, venom dripping from each syllable. “He wasn’t mine,” he hissed. “Stop the delusion. You’re not thinking straight—”

Before he could finish, I lunged forward and bit into his hand.

He let out a sharp sound of pain, wrenching away as blood trickled down.

“Let me go!” I screamed, panting and sobbing. “I don’t want you here! I don’t want to see your face again!”

My entire body trembled as I gasped for air.

“You let Elior die,” I whispered, barely able to speak. “You let our son die…”

His eyes darkened, rage swirling in them. His grip became painful.

“Say that again,” he growled. “Say it one more time and see what happens.”

Suddenly, my sister Hannah burst into the room.

“Get your hands off her, Ronan!” she barked.

He faltered, holding me for a second longer before releasing me.

Hannah rushed to my side, wrapping her arms tightly around me as I collapsed into her.

“Leave,” she told him. “Come back when she asks for you. Not before.”

His jaw tensed. He said nothing as he turned away and stormed out.

The moment the door slammed shut, Hannah whispered, “He’s gone, Selene. It’s okay. I’m right here.”

But her voice was distant.

My mind was somewhere else.

Back in that cave.

Back to that night.

Elior’s soft, trembling voice haunted me again.

“Daddy… I want to see Daddy…”

My vision blurred again with fresh tears.

I had called Ronan. Again and again.

He never answered.

He left one message.

“Stop calling. I don’t care.”

And that—

That was the moment I knew:

I would never, ever forgive him. Never.