Chapter 3

James let out a mocking laugh.

"Emma Miller, get to your room."

"Let's see how long you can keep this up."

"You love playing the amnesiac victim, right?"

"Then stay here. When you finally remember who you are, then we'll talk about you moving out!"

With that, he took Lily's hand and brushed past me.

As he walked by, he whispered coldly, "I just hope you’ll still want to leave by then."

I was left alone in the vast, empty living room.

The moment I said *family of three*, Olivia covered her face and ran off, seemingly in tears.

Soon, I heard James and Lily coaxing her softly from an inner room.

Fine by me. I looked around the house at my leisure.

On the mantle sat a framed photo of the three of them.

Taken at an amusement park, framed against exploding fireworks.

Olivia was leaning into James's chest, smiling softly.

Lily held her hand, looking up at them both, her little face glowing with pure bliss.

I saw Olivia’s medals, matching couple cups, and a crayon drawing by Lily: three wolves under the moonlight, with crooked letters reading: *My Family.*

With every item I looked at, the dull ache in my chest worsened.

By the time I reached the last photo of James and Olivia, the pain was so sharp I could barely stand.

The front door clicked, and a maid walked in carrying bags of groceries.

Seeing my ghost-white face, she dropped the bags and rushed to catch me.

"Luna Anderson! You're back from the clinic!"

"Goodness, you're drenched in cold sweat. Let me help you to the couch."

My trembling hand gripped her arm. "I'm fine."

"Could you... please show me to my room?"

"I don't know where I sleep."

Under the maid’s bewildered gaze, I offered a weak smile. "The Healers said I have amnesia. I don't remember much right now."

She supported me down the hallway to a tiny room tucked away in the farthest corner.

When she pushed the door open, a smell of damp dust hit my nose, making me cough.

The maid looked embarrassed, clearly aware of how pathetic and neglected this room was.

In the end, she didn't offer any excuses. She just softly murmured as she closed the door: "Maybe it's a blessing that you forgot."

I collapsed onto the narrow wooden bed. The frame groaned under my weight.

Only then did it hit me.

The maid had called me *Luna Anderson.*

Shouldn't the Luna of this house be Olivia?

My head was spinning, but as I glanced around the bare room, my eyes caught a fountain pen tossed on the corner of the desk.

It was my father's pen—his only keepsake. I never left it behind.

If it was here, this really was my room.

Why had I been living like a disgraced servant in my own mate's house?

Didn't I have anywhere else to go?

Ignoring the pounding in my skull, I dragged myself to the desk.

Inside the drawer, I found a leather diary.

And a ring.

A silver band that matched the one on James's left ring finger perfectly.

I flipped open the diary and read page after page.

The journal documented every trace of James’s betrayal—the strange perfumes on his shirts, the cozy photos on Olivia’s social media, the nights he never came home.

On the very last page, I saw what I had written just before the accident:

*At the next Moon Gathering, I will publicly reject him.*

Tucked inside the back cover was a yellowed business card embossed with a royal claw crest:

*Personal Direct Line of the Alpha King.*

I stared at it as a buried memory surfaced: I had been the top Healer prodigy of my generation at the Lycan Academy. The Alpha King himself had offered me a position as the Luna Queen’s personal Healer.

I had turned him down.

Because I chose James.