The Unwanted Historian: Claimed by a Better Alpha

Ava POV:

I couldn't leave without saying goodbye. Not to him, but to the girl I used to be.

Maya had arranged a discreet extraction—a black sedan waiting near the border to carry me away from this life. But I asked the driver to wait.

I slipped through the shadows of the Moonstone Pack territory, fighting the throb in my healing leg with every step. The moon was high, a cold, unblinking eye casting long, skeletal shadows across the forest floor.

My feet betrayed me, dragging me toward the one place I should have avoided: the ancient Laurel tree. It was the highest point in the territory, the place where the air always smelled crisp and clean. It was our place.

Or it had been.

As I crested the hill, my breath hitched, and my heart slammed against my ribs. I wasn't alone.

Ethan and Chloe were standing beneath the sprawling branches. The moonlight caught the silver thread of Chloe's expensive dress, making her shimmer like a mirage.

She was leaning against the trunk, her body pressed into Ethan's side. He had his arm around her waist, his face softened by a smile I hadn't seen directed at me in years.

I froze behind a cluster of bushes, the cloying, artificial scent of vanilla and roses instantly choking out the fresh pine air.

"Look, baby," Chloe cooed, tracing a manicured finger over the rough bark. "You carved my name so much deeper than hers. It's like you knew."

Ethan chuckled, a low rumble that used to make my toes curl. Now, it sounded like a betrayal, twisting my stomach into knots.

"Fate has a funny way of correcting its mistakes, doesn't it?" he murmured.

I felt the bile rise in my throat. Correcting mistakes? Is that what he called betraying his Fated Mate?

My mind flashed back to a night ten years ago. Ethan’s hands were smaller then, covered in sticky sap. *Our love is like this tree, Ava,* he had promised, his eyes bright with a devotion that felt eternal. *Roots deep, branches high. It will never die.*

Liar.

"I love how the moonlight hits this spot," Chloe sighed, resting her head on his chest, claiming him. "It's perfect for us."

"It is," Ethan agreed. He kissed the top of her head.

Something inside me snapped. It wasn't a loud break, like a bone. It was quiet, final—like a fraying rope finally giving up under too much weight.

I stepped out from the bushes, my presence breaking their perfect little tableau.

"It's a beautiful spot for a lie," I said, my voice raspy from disuse and unshed tears.

Ethan and Chloe spun around. Ethan’s eyes widened, his hand instinctively tightening on Chloe's waist as if I were a threat. Chloe’s face twisted into a sneer.

"What are you doing here?" Chloe spat. "I thought you were gone."

"I came to collect the last of my dignity," I said.

I walked past them. I didn't look at Ethan. I couldn't bear to see the pity or the annoyance in his eyes. I focused solely on the trunk of the Laurel tree.

There it was. *Ethan & Chloe*. Freshly carved, the sap still oozing like amber blood. Underneath, barely visible, were the scarred, fading remains of *Ava*.

I saw a sharp piece of slate on the ground. I picked it up. The stone was cold and jagged in my hand.

"Ava, don't," Ethan warned, stepping forward, his voice dropping an octave.

I didn't listen. With a grunt of effort, I slammed the stone into the bark. I dragged it down, gouging deep into the living wood. I scratched out his name. I scratched out hers. I scratched until my name was nothing but wood chips and dust.

"You bitch!" Chloe shrieked. "You're ruining our tree!"

She lunged at Ethan, burying her face in his chest, sobbing theatrically. "Make her stop, Ethan! She's destroying our memory!"

"Ava, stop it!" Ethan commanded. His voice held a trace of the Alpha Command, a weight that usually forced submission, but I was too numb to feel it.

I dropped the stone. My hands were shaking. "There is no memory," I whispered, my voice hollow. "Just a scar."

Chloe pulled away from Ethan, her eyes wild with malice. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a ring—a simple silver band with the Moonstone crest. It was the promise ring I had returned to Ethan days ago.

"Here!" she screamed, throwing it at me. "Take your trash! I don't want anything you've touched!"

The ring hit my chest with a dull thud and fell into the dirt.

I stared at it. That ring had meant everything to me once. Now, it was just metal.

I stepped forward to kick it away, but my injured leg finally buckled under the strain. I stumbled. I threw my hands out to catch myself, but I crashed into the stone altar that sat at the base of the tree—the sacred place where the pack left offerings to the Moon Goddess.

The altar was covered in silver coins and trinkets.

My skin made contact.

A scream of pure, blinding agony tore from my throat. The silver burned instantly into my palms and arms, sizzling like acid against raw nerve endings. It felt like dipping my hands into boiling oil. The smell of searing flesh and singed hair filled the air.

I collapsed to the ground, writhing in agony, the silver trinkets scattering around me like poisonous confetti.

"Ethan!" I gasped, the pain blinding me.

Ethan’s head snapped toward me. For a split second, the bond flared. He took a step, his hand reaching out as if to pull me from the fire.

But then Chloe whimpered. "Ethan, I'm scared! She's crazy!"

Ethan stopped dead. He looked at me, writhing in the dirt, smoke rising from my burns. Then he looked at Chloe, who was standing perfectly safe, clutching his arm in a performance of terror.

His eyes went cold. The hesitation vanished.

He turned his back on me. He wrapped his arms around Chloe, shielding her from... nothing. From me.

"Let's go, Chloe," he said, his voice hard as granite.

He looked over his shoulder at me one last time.

"Ava Miller," he said, the words cutting deeper than the silver ever could. "You are no longer my mate. From this day forward, you are nothing to me."