Alina’s POV
I woke up and reached out. My palm brushed the other side of the bed. The fabric was smooth, flat, and ice-cold.
It was always cold.
For three years, this bed had been a desert. No lingering warmth, no scent of his cologne on the pillow, not a single wrinkle in the sheets to show he had even sat down. I stared at the pale morning light filtering through the curtains. I didn’t sigh, I didn’t cry, I just pulled myself out of bed.
I moved like a ghost. I splashed water on my face, braided my hair into a tight, neat plait, and dressed in the silence. My feet knew the way by heart.
As I walked down the long hallway, the guards dipped their heads. The servants offered small, pitying smiles. I could feel the countdown in their eyes. They all knew the terms of the three-year contract. They knew my ti as the pack’s Luna was bleeding away. The only question left was: how soon?
The nursery was silent until I stepped inside. Leo stirred, his tiny face scrunching before his eyes fluttered open. When he saw , his lips curled into a toothless grin. The cold weight in my chest finally cracked.
"There you are," I whispered, pulling him into my arms.
He was warm and slled of milk. He was the only piece of gravity in a world that felt like a lie.
"You missed Mama, didn’t you?" I asked. He gurgled and kicked his legs. At seven months old, Leo had a spark in his eyes that I had lost long ago.
"It’s ti to feed him, Luna," the maid said softly.
I forced a smile and handed him over. My arms felt hollow the mont I let go. My body had never produced milk for him. The pack doctor called it "unexplained," but I knew the truth. In this palace, "unexplained" was just another word for "cursed."
"I’ll be back soon," I told her.
I headed to the kitchen. I never let the staff touch Aiden’s breakfast. I needed the rhythm of it—the knife hitting the cutting board and the hiss of the stove. It made feel like a wife instead of a decoration.
I was setting the table when heavy boots thudded in the hall. Aiden entered. I offered a faint smile, but his gaze never left the space in front of him.
He sat and snapped his newspaper open. I moved quietly, placing his plate and coffee exactly where he liked them. I sat a few inches away with my hands folded in my lap. I didn’t eat. I just watched the sharp line of his jaw as he read, trying to morize the sight of him.
"What is it, Alina?" he asked. He didn’t look up from the paper. "You’re burning a hole in ."
"Oh, sorry. I didn’t an to stare." I dropped my gaze to my lap. I knew he hated being watched. But the clock in my head was ticking. Three years. He had promised it would be over soon. I needed to know how much ti I had left before I was cast out.
"Alina?" He huffed and slamd the newspaper shut. He stared at until I felt small, the silence stretching between us. "Just tell what you are thinking. Do you want sothing?"
"Nothing like that. I just... well, we have been married for three years now,"
"Yes." He nodded, his face as unreadable as a slab of stone.
"You told our marriage was only for three years," I said, my voice barely a whisper. "I want to know when you plan on breaking the bond. I need to prepare."
Aiden’s eyes widened. A sudden, harsh cough broke from his throat, racking his fra. I lunged to my feet, my heart hamring against my ribs. I poured a glass of water and rushed to his side.
"Drink this," I urged, pressing the glass into his hand.
As he took it, his fingers brushed mine for a split second. They were ice-cold. He drained the water in one jagged gulp.
"Are you okay?" I asked. I searched his face, hunting for any flicker of kindness, any sign that he didn’t want this as much as he said.
"I am fine," he snapped. The word was a blade. He slamd the glass down on the table with a sharp clack. "You don’t need to remind . Our union will be over soon."
He leaned back, his lip curling into a sneer. "You seem more eager to be away from than I expected."
My chest tightened until it hurt to breathe. If he only knew. If it were up to , I would spend every sunset of my life inside these walls. He had given a world I never belonged in—a roof, the ability to speak my mind, the grace to dance, and the poise of a Luna. I had spent hours in front of the mirror, painting my face with makeup just to feel worthy of standing in his shadow at a gala. I wasn’t eager to leave; I was just trying to survive the fall.
"I only want to honor our arrangent," I said. I forced a plastic, perfect smile onto my face. "That our union ends after the third year."
That smile was the breaking point. Aiden’s jaw bunched, his muscles corded with tension. His eyes flashed with a dark, simring irritation.
"You really do piss off," he muttered. He shoved his chair back, the legs screeching against the floor like a scream. "I’m off to the office."
I stood frozen. I watched his broad shoulders disappear down the hallway, waiting until the last vibration of his footsteps vanished before I let myself move.
I went straight back to the nursery. Every step felt like walking through deep water. Leo was asleep, his small chest rising and falling in a peaceful, rhythmic pulse. I stayed by the door. I didn’t dare touch him. I couldn’t bear to wake him and see that spark of joy, only to rember it might be extinguished.
The thought finally took root, cold and terrifying: When the three years ended, would I ever see my son again? Would Alpha Aiden let walk away with the heir to his pack, or would he throw out all alone?
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