Not My Alpha’s Duty

The air in the Great Hall still tasted of copper and lilies—the sickeningly sweet scent of Lilith’s triumph and the metallic tang of my own heart breaking. I stared at the fresh, jagged mark on Damien’s neck, a brand that didn't belong to me, yet hummed with the stolen power of the Luna I was trained to be. For ten years, the Alpha of Shadowcrest had been my savior; tonight, he was my executioner. The fated bond, once a golden thread between our souls, lay frayed and blackened at my feet, severed by a "duty" to a dead brother’s widow that Damien chose over the Goddess herself. As the pack watched in suffocating silence, the Omega girl who had spent a lifetime being silenced finally found her voice. I didn't cry, and I didn't beg. I simply reached into the hollow, aching space where our connection used to pulse and tore out what was left of us.