Aria's POV
The envelope appears under my door like a curse.
I'm sitting on my couch, staring at nothing, trying to survive another wave of Damien's happiness bleeding through our broken bond. Three months of this. Ninety-two days of feeling him live his best life while I rot in this tiny apartment.
Then I see it. Cream-colored paper. Gold edges. Expensive.
My stomach turns to ice.
I know what this is before I even pick it up. I've been dreading it since the day he announced the engagement on live television.
With shaking hands, I tear open the envelope. The invitation practically mocks me with its beauty—elegant script, tiny embossed wolves, silver foil that catches the light.
Alpha Damien Silvercrest and Celeste Winters
Request your presence at their Engagement Celebration
Tonight, 8 PM, Silvercrest Estate
Formal attire required
Tonight.
The party is tonight, and they want me there.
My hands crumple the expensive paper as I read the handwritten note at the bottom—Celeste's perfect, looping handwriting:
Aria, it would mean the world if you came tonight. I know things ended badly, but you'll always be important to us. Please come celebrate our happiness. I miss my best friend. —C
A sound rips from my throat—half laugh, half sob.
She misses me. She misses her best friend while she's stealing my mate, planning a wedding with the man who destroyed me, living in the house I was supposed to live in.
And she wants me to come celebrate it.
Through the broken bond, I feel Damien's anticipation building. He's excited for tonight. Looking forward to showing off his new mate to the entire pack. Probably can't wait to see me bow down and accept that he made the right choice.
The pain hits so hard I double over, clutching my chest where the bond used to be whole. It's like someone's twisting a knife in my ribs over and over, and I can't make it stop.
Three months. Three months of this torture, and it hasn't gotten better. If anything, it's worse because now the bond carries his happiness, his satisfaction, his complete contentment with the life he built on my broken heart.
I can't do this anymore.
I stumble to my bathroom and splash cold water on my face, trying to breathe through the pain. When I look up, the girl in the mirror is a stranger. Hollow eyes. Pale skin. Hair that used to shine silver-blonde now dull and lifeless.
I look like I'm dying.
Maybe I am.
My phone buzzes. A text from my mother: Please tell me you're not going to that party. You don't need to torture yourself, sweetheart.
I text back with numb fingers: I'm not going.
At least that's not a lie.
Another text, this one from a number I don't recognize: heard about the party. want me to come break his face? say the word. —Lyra
Despite everything, I almost smile. Lyra—the rogue wolf who became my only real friend after the rejection. The one person who didn't abandon me when I became pack gossip.
No face-breaking. But thanks, I reply.
Her response is immediate: you ok? you sound weird
I'm fine. Just tired.
liar. I'm coming over
Don't. I need to be alone tonight.
LIAR. be there in 20
I don't have the energy to argue with her. Instead, I walk to my coffee table and pull out the book hidden underneath.
Ancient Rituals of the Moon: Blood Magic and Bond Breaking
I stole this from the restricted section of the pack library two weeks ago. It took me three tries to get past the magical wards, and I almost got caught twice. But I did it.
Because this book contains the one thing that can save me.
The Blood Moon Ritual.
I flip to the page I've memorized, running my fingers over the ancient text. The ritual is simple but specific:
Requirements:
The blood of the one seeking freedom
Moonflower petals (picked under a full moon)
Sacred oil (blessed by a pack healer)
A silver blade (untouched by violence)
The light of the Blood Moon
Complete solitude—NO ONE else can be present
Warning: The Blood Moon amplifies all magic. This ritual will sever unwanted bonds permanently but must be performed with absolute precision. Any deviation from the instructions will result in death or worse—the creation of an unbreakable bond with whoever is present in the sacred space.
I've read this warning a hundred times. I know the risks.
I don't care anymore.
Tonight is the Blood Moon—a phenomenon that only happens once every hundred years. The next one won't come in my lifetime. This is my only chance.
I check my supplies:
Moonflower petals: ✓ (stolen from my mother's greenhouse)
Sacred oil: ✓ (taken from Mom's healing supplies)
Silver blade: ✓ (bought from a specialty shop, never used)
My blood: ✓ (always available)
Solitude: ✓ (the Forbidden Grove is miles from any pack territory)
Everything is ready.
I just have to survive until midnight.
Through the bond, Damien's excitement spikes. He's probably getting ready for the party now. Choosing which suit to wear. Maybe Celeste is with him, helping him get dressed, kissing him, touching him—
The pain is so sharp I gasp, gripping the edge of the table.
Stop. Stop thinking about them.
Tonight, I break this bond forever. Tonight, I take back my life.
Tonight, I choose freedom or death.
Either way, the pain ends.
I'm packing my supplies into a backpack when someone pounds on my door.
"Aria! Open up! I know you're in there!"
Lyra.
I consider ignoring her, but she'll just break down the door. Rogue wolves don't believe in boundaries.
I open the door and Lyra storms in, her wild black hair a mess, her amber eyes blazing with worry. She's wearing ripped jeans and a leather jacket, looking every inch the dangerous rogue who refuses to bow to any pack.
"You look like death," she says bluntly.
"Thanks. You look lovely too."
"Don't sass me. I felt something weird through our friendship bond. Like you were saying goodbye." Her eyes narrow. "What are you planning?"
"Nothing—"
"Aria." She grabs my shoulders, forcing me to meet her gaze. "We've been friends for five years. I know when you're lying. What. Are. You. Planning?"
I could lie. Should lie.
Instead, I'm so tired I just tell the truth.
"I'm going to break the bond with Damien. Tonight."
Lyra's face goes pale. "How?"
I gesture to the book on my table.
She snatches it up, flipping through pages. Her expression shifts from worried to horrified. "Aria, no. No, no, no. This is blood magic. Forbidden magic. This stuff can kill you—"
"I don't care."
"Well I do!" She slams the book down. "Have you lost your mind? Do you know what happens if you mess up even one part of this ritual? You could die in agony, or go insane, or—"
"Or I could be free," I interrupt quietly. "Free from feeling him every second. Free from the pain. Free from being the broken, rejected girl everyone pities."
"You're not broken—"
"I can't shift anymore, Lyra. My wolf is gone. The bond is killing me slowly, and I can't—" My voice cracks. "I can't keep living like this. Feeling him be happy with her while I'm dying alone. I can't."
Lyra's anger melts into something worse—pity. And I can't stand it.
"Tonight is the Blood Moon," I continue, my voice steadier now. "It only happens once every hundred years. If I don't do this tonight, I'll never get another chance. I'll be stuck feeling Damien for the rest of my life while he lives happily ever after with Celeste."
"There has to be another way—"
"There isn't." I meet her eyes. "The pack doctors said the bond might fade in time. It's been three months and it's stronger than ever. Whatever Damien did when he rejected me, he broke it wrong. Left it mangled but still connected. This ritual is my only option."
Lyra stares at me for a long moment. Then she closes her eyes and curses. "You're really going to do this."
"Yes."
"Even though it might kill you."
"Even then."
She opens her eyes, and they're wet with unshed tears. "I hate this. I hate that he broke you this badly. I hate that your only choice is death or dark magic."
"I know."
"But I also know that look on your face. You've already decided, and nothing I say will change your mind." She takes a shaky breath. "So I'm coming with you."
"Lyra, no—"
"I'm not letting you do this alone!" She grabs my backpack and starts checking the contents. "The ritual says you need to be alone in the sacred space, fine. But I can help you get there. I can gather supplies, watch your back, make sure no one follows you. I can do something instead of sitting here imagining you dying alone in the forest."
Emotion clogs my throat. "You could get in trouble. Blood magic is illegal—"
"I'm a rogue. I'm already in trouble just by existing." She pulls me into a fierce hug. "You're my best friend, Aria. My only real friend. If you're doing something this insane, I'm helping."
I hug her back, drawing strength from her loyalty. "Thank you."
"Don't thank me yet. We might both end up dead." She pulls back, wiping her eyes. "Okay. What do we still need?"
I check my list. "Everything's here except... wait." I frown. "The sacred oil. It needs to be blessed by a healer within 24 hours of the ritual. Mom blessed this batch three days ago. It won't work."
"Can you get more?"
"Not without my mother knowing. She keeps the blessed oil locked up, and she'd ask questions I can't answer."
Lyra thinks for a moment. "What about old Mrs. Chen? She's a retired healer who lives on the edge of pack territory. She hates the Silvercrest family—something about them stealing her land years ago. She might help if we ask."
It's a long shot, but it's all we have.
"Okay. Let's try."
We have six hours until midnight. Six hours to gather everything, get to the Forbidden Grove, and prepare.
Six hours until I'm either free or dead.
As we're heading out, my phone buzzes. Another text.
From Damien.
I hope you're coming tonight. It would mean a lot to have you there supporting us. You'll always be important to me, Aria. —D
The hypocrisy makes me want to scream.
He rejected me. Called me weak in front of everyone. Left me broken and bleeding on the altar. And now he wants me to support his engagement to my former best friend?
Through the bond, I feel his sincerity. He actually believes what he's saying. In his mind, we can all just move past the rejection and be friends.
He has no idea what he's done to me.
But after tonight, it won't matter.
I delete the message and turn off my phone.
"Ready?" Lyra asks, her hand on the door.
I take one last look at my apartment—this tiny space that's been my prison for three months. After tonight, I'll either come back here free, or I won't come back at all.
"Ready," I say.
We slip out into the evening. The sun is setting, painting the sky in shades of red and gold. In a few hours, the Blood Moon will rise—huge and crimson and ancient.
And I'll finally take back what Damien Silvercrest stole from me.
My freedom.
My wolf.
My life.
Whatever the cost.