The wind was sharp. Below, the pack territory lay silent beneath the moon.
Only then did I speak.
“Did you call me only to say this?”
There was a brief pause.
“Or what?” Lucian replied, his tone hard. “Are you going to accuse me and Rosalie again? I’ve told you countless times—she’s like a sister to me. If your own sister collapsed, would you not worry?”
Like a sister.
I had heard those words so often they no longer hurt.
Once, I argued.
Once, I cried.
Once, I asked why the woman he called a sister always came before the Luna he chose.
Now, I felt nothing.
My heart was no longer breaking.
It had simply gone numb.
“You should worry,” I said quietly.
Perhaps my calm unsettled him, because he fell silent again. When he spoke next, his voice had turned cold and commanding.
“Open your mindlink to Rosalie again.”
Then he severed the connection.
I looked down at the fading glow of the stone.
Naturally, I did no such thing.
Lucian and I had been together for eight years.
For nearly all of those years, Rosalie’s presence followed us like a shadow. From the beginning, I heard of her constantly. She was gentle, obedient, sweet-natured, delicate—everything wolves found irresistible.
Always close to him.
Always needing him.
At first, I assumed she truly was his younger sister.
Later, I learned Lucian was an only child.
Then I wondered if she was a distant cousin.
She was neither.
After our coming-of-age ceremony, Lucian and I began handling pack duties together. Not long after, Rosalie moved into the central territory. Lucian explained her mother had entrusted her to him because she had been born weak and needed protection.
At first, I pitied her.
I truly did.
But pity slowly turned into humiliation.
Whenever Lucian and I trained together, Rosalie sent for him.
Whenever we shared a meal, Rosalie fell ill.
Whenever we stole one quiet night beneath the moon, Rosalie somehow needed him before dawn.
A dizzy spell.
A twisted ankle.
A fever.
A sleepless night.
The reasons changed. The ending never did.
The moment Rosalie called, Lucian went.
I lost count of how many times we argued.
Each time, he held me close and promised things would change after our mating ceremony. He said I was the Luna he chose. He said Rosalie was someone he could not ignore. He said I was thinking too much.
And because I loved him, I endured.
I endured every slight, every ruined night, every swallowed grievance.