Chapter 4
“Zoey?”
He frowned slightly and draped his coat over my shoulders, his tone instinctively gentle.
“It’s freezing in the middle of the night. Why don’t you wear more clothes”
I ignored his concern, watching the way he rummaged through the cabinet with calm detachment.
“What are you looking for?”
He paused for a beat, then glanced over. “Uh… I was hoping to borrow your wedding dress. Clara wants to wear it at the mating ceremony.”
He said it so casually, like it was the most normal thing in the world.
“You know, the one you wore when you and your mate sealed the bond. You probably don’t remember it.”
I stared at him, my gaze turning colder by the second.
How could I forget?
That dress was one he had designed for me himself.
-of–a–kind
He spent two months on it–sketching, revising, hand–picking fabrics, sewing every detail–just because I had once said, “I want a one–o wedding dress.”
He told me that gown was a mark of my place as Luna–made for me and me alone.
And now?
He wanted to give it to another she–wolf. To wear the same dress I had once believed symbolized our vows. To complete their so–called “sacred” mating ceremony.
My lips curled into a bitter smile. I asked lightly, “Is that dress really so important? Why does it have to be that one?”
His hands froze. His fingers lingered on the fabric.
He had once held me, eyes filled with tenderness, saying, “This dress will always belong to you.”
But promises were like wind. He had forgotten.
He hesitated, then composed himself. “It’s a designer piece. There’s only one in existence. Clara loves it. It’s her only wish, and I’m just… trying to give her what she wants.”
Seeing me look down, he added quickly, “Don’t worry, I’ll return it right after the ceremony. And if there’s anything you want after that… just tell me.” Same old Damon–polished lies wrapped in fake concern, masking a heart that had long turned cold.
My mind drifted to that night five years ago.
Under the moonlight, we had sealed our mate bond. He had stored the dress so carefully in the closet, treating it like a treasure. When I teased him for being overly sentimental, he looked serious and said, “Because you gave it meaning. I’ll carry this memory for a lifetime.”
Now, all it took was Clara’s single word for him to strip that memory of meaning. To crush what had once been mine and offer it to another.
This wasn’t kindness. It was humiliation.
“It’s late. Get some rest. I’ve got errands to run.”
He didn’t notice the shift in me. He grabbed the dress and left without a glance back
I watched him go. Then I flung his coat from my shoulders, letting it fall to the ground.
The wardrobe stood empty. Just like my heart.
He had erased every trace of me, cleared the past away piece by piece,
I let out a bitter laugh and whispered to myself, “It’s fine. I’ll do the same. Once everything’s cleared out, it won’t hurt anymore.”
Just abandonment, that’s all it was.
Once the memories were gone, I’d be free.
Chapter 4
But then the pain struck–sharp, tearing. I dropped to
the floor, clutching my head, breath shaking.
Memories were being ripped away. Familiar fragments vanished, replaced by emptiness.
It was like being yanked from sorrow by force, as if
my entire
soul
was being stripped away.
The next day, Hannah came to see me. Her expression was complicated. “Damon’s been running himself ragged for Clara’s mating ceremony. It’s just like how things were when you two sealed your bond.”
I gave a faint nod.
He didn’t even have time to breathe, yet he still made sure someone delivered my meals.
So attentive, so thoughtful. What a convincing performance.
Finally, the day of the mating ceremony arrived.
Hannah brought me to the venue. We sat off to the side, silent observers, watching Damon lead Clara down the ceremonial path lined with flowers and surrounded by packmates.
They looked perfect together. Clara leaned into him, glowing with happiness. Damon, as always, stood tall and stoic.
“I remember Damon held a ceremony this grand for Luna Zoey too. Didn’t expect Clara to have the same luck,” someone in the front row whispered.
The moment Clara heard my name, her grip
on
his arm tightened.
Damon glanced at her, then addressed the crowd.
“Zoey and I severed our mate bond. She is no longer our Luna.”
He paused, then said with calm finality: “Today is the mating ceremony between me and Clara. Let the past stay in the past.”
His words were a verdict.
I sat in the farthest corner, listening to his words.
And I smiled.
Not with rage, but with a coldness that seeped from my bones.
Chapter 4
