Once Broken, Twice Claimed

In just five days, Eleanor would be gone for good, and everything with Amiel would finally be over.

Last night, Colt had rushed Eleanor to the hospital in the dead of night, without informing anyone. In her groggy, half-conscious state, she remembered him calling himself "Cal." It struck her as strange, but her head was too fogged with pain and sedation to question it.

Even when her friend Alpha returned home, he never stopped asking how she was feeling. She simply said she was okay, not wanting to ruin the softness in his voice by questioning his real name. All night, they exchanged sweet texts and warm calls while she recovered.

His last message said he was counting down the days until she could finally leave the pack.

And now...

As soon as she returned to the packhouse villa, she was met by the stench of perfume. And lounging across the velvet couch in a thin, lacy robe was Sadie.

Her fake sister looked up, a wicked smile curving her lips. “Back already?” she drawled, stretching like a lazy cat. “You look like you got hit by a bus. Oh wait, maybe a rogue?”

She stood slowly, sauntering over and gripping Eleanor’s chin. Then she shifted her robe slightly, exposing her collarbone and the bite mark there. “See this? Courtesy of our Alpha. Last night, he marked me over and over. On your bed, no less.”

Eleanor stiffened. She had just come from the hospital, barely holding herself together, and all she wanted was a moment of peace.

But Sadie’s words were like barbed wire. Her patience, already razor-thin, was now cracking.

'Keep running that filthy mouth, Sadie, and I swear I’ll rip your tongue out and shove it so far down your throat,' she thought.

Sadie wasn't aware of her internal struggle so she continued. “He said being with you feels like fucking a corpse. He only feels like a real wolf when he’s buried inside me, while I’m clawing his back raw and begging for more.”

The moment the words hit, Eleanor's hand flew on instinct.

The slap rang out sharp across Sadie’s cheek.

Sadie staggered back, stunned. "You..."

“Don’t forget your place, Sadie. I’m still the Luna. You’re just the mistress hiding behind my name.”

She grabbed the redhead bitch's hair and continued. “Push me, and I swear I’ll drag your bastard ass in front of the Council and the Moon Court. Let’s see how long you last once they know you’re nothing but a low-born parasite—a maid’s bastard daughter who slithered her way into my bed, my name, and my mate’s knot like the desperate, secondhand whore you are!"

Sadie’s eyes burned with rage, but before she could retaliate, heavy footsteps sounded in the hall.

Sadie’s posture changed in an instant. She dropped to the floor, knees hitting the polished wood, and began to sob dramatically. “I shouldn’t have crawled back here. I should’ve stayed rotting wherever I came from. I’ll vanish today, I swear! Just don’t hate me, please. I’m not strong enough to be hated by you.”

Eleanor stared at her, wide-eyed.

Sadie suddenly shot to her feet and sprinted toward the stone pillar in the foyer like a rabid animal desperate for attention.

That was when Amiel lunged like a damn fool and grabbed her before she could smash her skull in. “Sadie, what the hell are you doing?”

“You dragged me into this house, and now your precious Luna wants my head on a pike!”

His face twisted. “No one touches you, Sadie. Not even her.” He glared over his shoulder. “Eleanor. Apologize.”

“I did nothing wrong.”

“Apologize!”

“I said nothing that wasn’t true. Maybe you should ask where I was last night.”

He winced, his brows knitting together.

But before he could speak, Eleanor cut in sharply, her hand waving slightly in front of her face as if brushing away a fog. “Aren’t you the least bit curious?”

“I don’t care!” he barked, pointing an accusing finger at her. “You don’t get to hurt Sadie. And until you say you’re sorry, you’re suspended from Luna duties. Stay out of Council meetings. Out of my way.”

In his mind, stripping her of responsibility was punishment enough.

What he didn’t realize was that Eleanor never cared for the duties. She took them on for him. Because he was lazy. Because he wanted the title, but not the work.

Without another word, he turned away, leading Sadie up the stairs like she was the wounded party.

Before he vanished around the corner, he barked at the nearest warrior, "Drag her to the dungeons. No food, not until she begs for forgiveness."

Eleanor lashed out first, trying to elbow one of the warriors, then turned swiftly to kick the other. But they were too strong.

For three days, Sadie secretly came thrice daily, asking, “Still too proud to crawl, Luna? Or has starvation finally humbled that spoiled little mouth of yours?”

Eleanor never replied.

She just stared out the window.

She was counting down. Four more days. Then Colt would come for her.

Three times a day, like clockwork, that conniving redhead leech strutted into the dungeon, all dolled up like she was stepping onto a runway instead of visiting the woman whose life she helped ruin.

She’d lean against the bars. “Still holding your head up, Luna? Funny, you never held it that high when he was moaning my name.”

Other times, she'd taunt, "You always were second best. Even our mothers preferred me. What made you think he ever would?"

Each visit was another dagger, another reminder that the world above was moving on without her.

One night, Sadie informed Eleanor with an infuriatingly cheerful tone that she and Amiel would be going out of town for a short getaway.

"Don't worry," she cooed through the bars, "we’ll make sure to send you lots of pictures so you won’t get too bored down here. Maybe I’ll even send you one of him in bed."

Then Sadie gasped, clamping her mouth. "Oh wait, I forgot, you’re blind! Never mind the pictures. I’ll send recordings instead. Wouldn’t want you to miss out on the sound of me making your mate scream."

And she proved it.

For two days, Amiel never returned.

But Sadie sent only recordings—voice notes filled with laughter, breathy moans, and whispered taunts meant to claw at Eleanor’s soul.

In the past, she would have cried. Maybe freaked out.

But now, all she felt was numbness.

On the fourth day, weakened by gnawing hunger and severe dehydration, she collapsed onto the cold dungeon floor.

When she finally woke up again, she was in the guest room already.

One of the guards whispered that she had been released from the dungeon only because Luna Sadie requested it.

When she looked out the window that night, she saw the night sky explode in color.

Red, blue, silver sparks lit up the forest—and across the sky, written in glowing letters, was 'Happy Birthday, Sadie. Love, Alpha Amiel.”

With a fire burning in her chest, she stormed into Amiel’s private study. Her fingers shook with rage as she shoved the bookshelf aside and slammed open the hidden panel. Without care, she threw the hospital’s miscarriage report inside like it was poison she needed to be rid of.

Then she pulled out her worn leather notebook and added a final sign from the Goddess Selene.

[100th disappointment: My baby’s gone.]

She finished the last stroke and closed it slowly.

A divorce agreement, a resignation letter, a miscarriage report, and one hundred heart-wrenching memories.

That was her anniversary gift to Amiel.

She packed her suitcase and laid the villa’s keys on the dining table. As she did, her phone buzzed. It was a message from Elder Orin.

[Your identity has been permanently deleted from the Werewolf Archive. This will also severely damage your mark as you are considered dead on record, Luna.”

Eleanor nodded with quiet satisfaction. “Good.”

Then, without a second glance back, she summoned a rideshare and climbed into the backseat of the waiting Uber, ready to leave behind every cursed memory in that godforsaken house.