Scarred by His Bite, Crowned by the Moon

I took a long breath and told myself:

It's fine. From now on, I'll love myself the way he never bothered to.

I saved every image and every crystal-recording. The next morning, I went straight to a Beta advocate of the Pack Council.

Roderic didn't come home to our den until the afternoon.

"Lore-work ran too deep into the night, so I just slept at the Lore-Hall. We're feasting at my parents' den tonight. Go change."

He held out a new gown. It was beautiful, woven by a craft-house he'd never once been willing to spend a single moon-credit on for me before.

The old me would have thrown her arms around him in delight.

I just took it quietly and murmured: "Okay."

Roderic frowned, looking me over:

"You don't like it? That gown cost over a thousand gold moons."

Yes. Too late. No gift beneath the Moon Goddess could make me happy now.

He had no idea.

That morning, on my way to the advocate's den, I'd caught his scent next door at the territory-holdings hall, where he stood touring a riverside den with Seraphine Velvetmoor. His scent reached me first, that expensive cedar gone slightly sour, and beneath it the cloying sweetness I had never let myself name. My wolf went still inside me, hackles lifting at something that didn't smell right.

A sprawling riverfront den, tens of millions in moon-credits. Seraphine said "I love it," and he sealed the claim without blinking.

She rose on her toes and pressed her nose to his cheek, beaming. He smiled gently and smoothed the hair from her forehead.

The handsome lore-keeper and the beautiful performing Omega. A perfect match.

If only this man weren't my mate.

I'd once dreamed of a den by the river too, even a small one.

I'd clung to Roderic's arm and begged:

"The water shines so beautifully under the moon. Wouldn't it be wonderful if we could live there?"

He hadn't even looked up from the lore-scrolls he was marking:

"Do you have any idea what riverfront dens cost? You don't even hold a place in the endeavor. How am I supposed to afford that on a lore-keeper's share?"

I'd pouted and suggested a slow blood-oath of payment. He'd erupted:

"Aurora, I said no!"

"What's wrong with our den? You don't have the standing of an Alpha's mate, but you've sure caught the sickness for it!"

So it was never about the price. And he knew exactly how beautiful the water shone.

I was just the one who didn't deserve it.

I swallowed the pain twisting through my chest, lifted my crystal communicator, recorded him claiming that riverside den, and walked into the advocate's den.

That evening, the last feast at the Ashthorne den. Goblets touched, laughter rose easy and warm around the long table, the scent of roasted game thick in the air.

I stood up.

I pushed a bond-rejection oath across the table, right over the haunch Roderic was carving.

"Roderic. I want a bond rejection."

The air at the table went dead.

"Carrying a pup's made you lose your mind? Where do you get off howling about rejection!" Brunhilde Ashthorne was the first to recover, her voice shrill and cutting, the bitter clove of her scent sharpening across the table.

Roderic's hand froze around his knife.

A long moment passed before he looked up at me, brow creased deep: "What are you making a scene about now?"

"I'm not making a scene."

I clenched my teeth and confronted him about Seraphine Velvetmoor.

He rubbed his temples, looking thoroughly put-upon:

"Seraphine was only collecting some reference lore from the Hall. I helped her a little, that's all."

"You wanted a pup. I gave you one. So what exactly is your problem?"

One word. Unreasonable. And every grievance I carried was stuffed right back inside me.

Brunhilde's voice rose to a bark: "This is what happens when a she-wolf's life has been too soft. It's made her completely out of control!"

Reynard Ashthorne rolled his eyes in open contempt:

"Every wolf in the territory knows you've been living off my son since the mating. Walk out that door, and you're just some used-up Omega no pack would take."

Roderic's older brother set down his goblet, voice dripping with scorn:

"A she-wolf who acts up like this? Who besides Roderic could stand the stench of it."

"That's enough."

Roderic cut them off and turned to his parents: "Aurora is still your daughter by bond. She's upset, that's why she's howling about rejection. Once I explain things, she'll settle."

Instantly the whole table rallied around his "defense" of me, praising him as the perfect mate, calling me an ungrateful drain on the bloodline.

They'd all forgotten. I hold a Lore-Master rank from the Lore-Keepers' Circle, earned in the pureblood Frostmoon line.

After the mating, Roderic said he didn't want me known beyond our den. And because I loved him more than anything, I became a mate who served and nothing more.

What he never knew was that for cycles, the strongest packs across every territory had sent envoys to me, begging me to lead their strengthening endeavors. I turned every one of them away.

I never imagined that everything I gave up would become the silver blade his family used against me.

"Roderic's already shielding you. Quit while you're ahead and stop being so ungrateful!"