Chapter 2: The Scar and the Shattered Screen

The Healer's Den smelled of antiseptic herbs and sorrow. I, Luna Starling, stood at the threshold, forced to be here. Inside, Tanya lay on the cot, a bandage wrapped around her forehead, sobbing into Alpha Wesley's chest. Her voice was a broken, hiccupping thing, designed to claw at any shred of sympathy. "Wesley, will there be a scar? Will my pack, my parents in the Moonlit Plains, not recognize my spirit when I join them?" Wesley's hand moved in slow, soothing circles on her back, his touch gentle, patient. He didn't flinch as her tears dampened his tunic. Even with my decision to leave, the sight was a physical blow to the fragile bond still clinging to my soul. Wesley, the most formidable Alpha of our generation, renowned for his strength and his almost icy reserve, who held himself apart from casual touch, was holding her. I was the exception once. The memory was a sharp, painful shard in my heart. Our first meeting, the undeniable spark of the mate-bond, his intense, relentless pursuit. He had always reached for my hand, his grip firm and sure, making me feel chosen, irrevocably and wonderfully singled out. Now, the illusion was shattered. I stared at his hand, the one that used to cup my face with such reverence, now offering comfort to another. It reminded me of my first night in Silvermane territory, lost and overwhelmed by the unfamiliar scents and ancient customs. A dominant wolf from a rival pack had tried to intimidate me, demanding a toll for crossing a 'disputed' border. Wesley had appeared, a force of nature, and afterward, he had held me just like this, his hand a steady, calming weight on my back, whispering that I was safe, that I was his. Wesley, I thought, the bitterness a poison on my tongue, your vow of an eternal bond is truly… cheap. I rapped my knuckles sharply on the doorframe, cutting through Tanya's performance. "Should I take a picture for the Pack-Wide Mindlink?" My voice was laced with a cold mockery I no longer bothered to conceal. "Caption: 'Grieving, middle-aged lone wolf finds solace in the arms of a mated Alpha'?" Everyone told me Tanya's spirit was shattered, that I shouldn't provoke her. But the coincidences were too perfect, hundreds of her 'episodes' timed to undermine me, always coveting what was mine. Hearing my words, Tanya didn't pull away from Wesley. Instead, she looked up at him, tears welling in her eyes. "Have I… have I burdened you again?" Wesley's brow furrowed. He continued stroking her back. "No. Don't think that." Then his gaze lifted to me, sharp and disapproving. "I called you here to apologize to Tanya, Starling! Not to continue this childish drama!" "Starling, when will you grow up? Must you always be so immature, fighting pointless battles with words?" Immature. The word struck me with the force of a physical blow. I remembered the night he officially claimed me as his mate under the full moon. He had hooked his pinky finger with mine, a silly, human gesture, and given it a gentle shake. "A pinky promise is unbreakable," he'd murmured, his breath warm against my ear. I'd laughed, asking how the mighty Alpha knew of such childish games. Behind his glasses—now long discarded to fully embrace his wolf—his green eyes had crinkled with a warmth reserved only for me. "Because with you, my Starling, I feel young. You make me want to believe in silly, beautiful things again." The memory was a ghost, haunting the ruins of the present. In just four years, the man in front of me had become a stranger. I refused to let him see me cry. I blinked back the hot tears and raised my phone, aiming the camera at them. "Let's make it official then." In a blur of motion, Wesley shoved Tanya aside—not roughly, but with clear intent—and lunged forward. His hand smacked my phone away with brutal force. CRACK! The device flew from my grasp, smashing against the stone wall. A shard of the splintered screen grazed my cheek. His anger, a rare and terrifying storm, filled the small room. "Have you lost your mind?!" he roared. I said nothing. My silence, my refusal to bend, seemed to fuel his fury. He took a step toward me, his Alpha aura pressing down, but then he stopped. His eyes met mine, saw the unshed tears glistening there despite my defiant stance, and something in his expression flickered—not quite remorse, but a faint echo of the softness he once held for me. It vanished as quickly as it came. "You need to reflect on your actions. The world won't indulge your willfulness forever!" With that final, cold pronouncement, he turned and helped a trembling Tanya from the cot, guiding her out of the den. The heavy wooden door swung shut behind them. I stood there, trembling, before slowly crouching to pick up the shattered pieces of my phone. The screen was a spiderweb of cracks. I pressed the power button. It flickered to life, revealing the background photo—a picture of Wesley and me after our mating ceremony, his arm around me, my head thrown back in laughter. Our happiness was now fractured, splintered by a million tiny lines. Just like our bond. I stood up, my legs unsteady, and moved to the door. A cold dread seeped into me when the handle wouldn't turn. I was locked in. "Wesley!" I yelled, pounding on the thick wood. "Wesley, the door is locked!" I saw his shadow pause for a single heartbeat under the gap in the door. Then, a softer, pleading voice—Tanya's—must have spoken, and his shadow moved away, following hers. "WESLEY!" I slammed my fists against the door until they ached. No one came. He had left me here. Caged. The fierce, all-consuming love we once shared, the promises sworn under the moon… it all meant nothing compared to Tanya's manufactured tears. I was locked in the Healer's Den for a full day and a night. The cold seeped into my bones, and the hunger gnawed at my stomach, but it was the chilling emptiness in my chest that truly devoured me. Any lingering hope, any foolish scrap of "what if," died in that dark, silent room. When the door finally creaked open, it wasn't Wesley. It was his Beta, Kael. He wordlessly handed me a small, ornate wooden box. I opened it. Nestled inside on a bed of velvet was the Lunite bracelet—the one Wesley had given Tanya at the Gathering. "Alpha Wesley wishes me to convey that Tanya's spiritual healing has reached a critical stage," Kael said, his voice neutral. "He… requests… that you cease these jealous outbursts." He paused, then added, "Tanya said that since you seem to covet this trinket so deeply, you may have it." I stared at the glowing crystals. A harsh, mirthless laugh escaped my lips. Did they think I was a refuse pit for Tanya's discarded trophies? CRACK! This time, the sound was deliberate. I let the box slip from my fingers. It hit the stone floor, and the rare, priceless Lunite bracelet shattered into a dozen glittering pieces. I didn't spare it a single glance. I stepped over the fragments and walked past the stunned Beta, my head held high despite the devastation crushing my soul. "Tell Wesley he's free," I said, my voice eerily calm, carried on the cold air of the corridor. "I renounce our bond. I fulfill you both."