I swallowed calming herbs by the handful. My hair began falling out in clumps. My memory fractured, pieces slipping away like water through cracks.
To survive, I forced myself to stop thinking about Alaric. I locked myself in my chambers and buried myself in restoring ancient moon-scrolls, one crumbling page at a time.
I'd discovered this work by accident after the mating ceremony—a way to escape the pain. Back then, I never imagined it would become my lifeline, the very thing that would help me finally leave Alaric.
I stopped following news about Alaric and Seren.
But as Capital Territory's power couple, their stories found me anyway.
Today, Alaric bought Seren a private hunting ground. Tomorrow, they'd appear at some pack gathering, her arm threaded through his, her scent mingled with his for all to witness.
Seren had seamlessly stepped into the role of Luna Nightfall. Meanwhile, I had been erased from existence—forgotten, as if I'd never been real at all.
At least I'd grown numb enough that the days somehow kept passing.
Six months slipped by. Then one night, Alaric came home.