Chapter 1

In the fifth year Ethan promised I would become his Luna, he forgot my birthday yet again.

I didn't throw a fit. I just quietly cooked all my favorite dishes and bought the gourmet cake I could never normally justify splurging on.

Yet when I walked out of the bathroom fresh from a shower, ready to savor my evening alone, I found the dinner I’d spent three hours making packed away into thermal containers.

The cake on the counter was smashed beyond recognition.

Ethan finally noticed me standing there.

Without even looking up from packing, he muttered, "Mia twisted her ankle during training today. It’s killing her, so I’m bringing her some food. Don't wait up for me."

Once again, he walked out on me for the Omega he’d rescued.

And this time, I was walking out on him for good.

The second Ethan left, I took a deep breath and reached out through our Mind Link to his mother—the current Luna of the Pack.

*Luna, I need to talk to you.*

Her response came back warm and steady: *Come to the assembly hall, child.*

I changed into a fresh set of clothes, walked down the quiet streets of the Pack territory, and headed inside. Luna was already waiting for me by the window, sipping a cup of tea.

I sat down across from her. After a heavy pause, I finally spoke: "Luna, I want to move out of Ethan’s place."

She didn't look surprised. She merely watched me with gentle eyes, waiting for me to go on.

"Things haven't been right between us for a long time," I said, keeping my voice as steady as I could. "Mia is always his priority. I'm just… exhausted."

Luna set her teacup down and looked straight at me. "Are you certain about this? You know that once you move out, there’s no turning back for you and Ethan."

"I’m certain," I replied, meeting her gaze without wavering. "Luna, this isn't an impulse. I've thought about it for months."

She remained silent for a moment before letting out a soft sigh. "As his mother, I try not to meddle in his personal life. But since you came to me, I know you’ve made up your mind."

She gave me a supportive nod. "The Pack will have everything arranged for you."

Two days later, a runner delivered a key with a handwritten note: *Cottage Three, East Pack District. It's quiet. Perfect for you.*

Holding that key, a bitter sensation pooled in my chest. Five years. For five years, I had made myself invisible in this relationship, only to have his mother be the one who finally gave me a sanctuary.

Ethan didn't come home until late that night.

When he looked at me, there was a flash of guilt in his eyes. His posture softened.

"Lily, I'm sorry," he murmured softly. "I completely spaced on your birthday yesterday. Didn't you say you wanted a used car for your commute? I went out and picked one up for you today. Consider it a late birthday gift."

I had mentioned buying a cheap commuter car before.

I worked in the neighboring human town, and the commute took an hour each way on foot or bus. Having a car would have saved me so much hassle.

Back then, Ethan had flatly turned me down.

Before I could say anything, he kept talking: "Mia was actually the one who reminded me yesterday. You should thank her when you see her. She’s the one who picked it out—said you’d definitely love it."

So, he hadn't remembered on his own at all.

Someone else had to remind him.

Even the gift meant for me had been chosen by another woman.

And all I was expected to do was smile, say it was fine, and accept whatever scraps they threw my way.

Ethan pulled out his phone, scrolling through his gallery to show me the car.

"Look, Mia picked pink. She said it was perfect for girls like you..."

He swiped through the pictures.

When he reached the second photo, my gaze froze.

It was a picture of Mia.

She was sitting in the driver's seat, sticking her tongue out and throwing up a peace sign at the camera.

Ethan caught where I was staring and hastily explained, "Mia loves taking selfies. Her phone died, so she used mine."

I didn't say a word. I just kept swiping.

There were 323 photos in his camera roll.

One hundred and twenty of them were of Mia.

Three were of the car.

That was when it hit me: Ethan hated taking pictures.

He always complained about unnecessary clutter taking up storage on his phone.

We didn't have a single photo together.

In fact, he didn't even have my number saved in his contacts.

It was almost as if I had never existed in his life.