I clenched my fists. This was my final straw. I was done with Trent Holland. Ignoring them, I continued to burn five years of my life—every memory and every lie reduced to ash. A little later, my phone vibrated with a message.

I’m sorry, love. I know asking you to apologize hurt you, but Monica is leading the Crescent Moon alliance deal. I didn’t want unnecessary conflict. Once this is over, I’ll make it up to you. I got you a gift. Just don’t be upset, okay?

I didn’t reply. I had learned my lesson. Trent didn’t love me—he loved Monica. I was just a convenient placeholder.

I packed my bag and left the packhouse. The guest lodge was quiet and secluded, which I needed. I had barely settled in when my phone rang. It was one of the pack’s secretaries.

“Luna, are you not attending today’s meeting with the elders?”

I was about to refuse when a voice in the background caught my attention—Trent. He was issuing orders.

“Get the best healers. I don’t care how much it costs—make sure Monica recovers quickly.”

I laughed bitterly. A single scratch, and he was willing to drain the pack’s resources for her. My mother had bled out in agony, and he had done nothing.

“I won’t be attending,” I told the secretary before hanging up.

Moments later, Trent started calling me. I let it ring until curiosity got the better of me. I answered in silence, listening as he spoke distractedly to someone else.

“Alpha, revising the treaty with the Crescent Moon pack will cost us a fortune. Are you sure about this?”

“No need to reconsider. Do it. Monica wants this deal, and what she wants, she gets.”

My grip on the phone tightened. A few seconds later, he finally realized I was on the line. “Lucy? I heard you missed the elders’ meeting. Is everything okay?”

“I’m not feeling well.”

“Oh, I see. I’ll cancel my plans and come home. Just rest, okay?”

My wolf raged after heariing it. Home? As if he still considered it our home. I didn’t care where he went. He had made his choice.

I scrolled through social media, mindlessly watching videos, until a live stream of the city showed something interesting in the background. It was Trent and Monica. He was holding a dress up against her, smiling, laughing. His hands brushed against hers, their body language far too intimate for a man who claimed he loved someone else.