MOONLIT LIES

Aria’s POV The morning light kissed my skin as I opened my eyes, soft and golden through the curtains. Outside, birds sang their gentle chorus, a melody too peaceful for the ache building inside me. The other side of the bed was already cold, the faint scent of pine and smoke still clinging to the pillow where Liam had slept. He was gone. Again. The Alpha always rose before dawn, claiming the pack needed his leadership at sunrise. I used to love that — his strength, his sense of duty. I used to be proud to wake alone, knowing he carried the weight of us all. But lately, the emptiness beside me didn’t feel noble. It felt hollow. I brushed my hair back, catching sight of the silver crescent on my collarbone — the mark of a true mate bond. It used to glow brightly when Liam’s lips touched it each morning, a symbol of our connection blessed by the Moon Goddess herself. Now, it shimmered faintly, like a dying ember. Not today, I told myself. Today I would smile. A Luna does not let her heart bleed where others can see. Outside, the pack greeted me with warmth and laughter. Children raced past, warriors bowed with respect. “Good morning, Luna,” they said. I smiled, my lips curving with practiced grace. Inside, the ache deepened. Across the training grounds, Liam’s voice thundered — commanding, precise, full of authority. His presence rippled through the air like power itself. The man I loved had always been formidable, but now there was a hardness in his tone that chilled me. When his gaze finally met mine across the field, my breath caught. For a heartbeat, the world fell silent. Then he looked away. No smile. No flicker of warmth. Just distance. I turned before anyone could see the sting in my eyes. The Luna never shows weakness. The day dragged on in quiet pretenses. I tended to the wounded trainees, wrapping cuts and murmuring comfort. Every time I looked up, Liam stood apart with Beta Marcus, whispering in low tones. Their words were sharp and guarded. When I drew near, Marcus’s smile faltered — and Liam didn’t even glance my way. By dusk, the air had grown heavy with the scent of rain. I found him on the balcony, staring into the forest like he was waiting for something — or someone. “You didn’t eat dinner,” I said softly. He didn’t answer. “Liam,” I tried again, voice trembling. “Is something wrong?” When he finally spoke, his words sliced through me. “The pack’s growing weak, Aria. They depend on you too much. They need strength — not smiles.” My throat tightened. “I’m only trying to help—” “Help?” His laugh was bitter. “You make them soft.” He brushed past me without another word. The scent of pine and smoke followed him inside, leaving the night colder than before. I stood there until the sky dimmed to black, the weight of unspoken words pressing down on my chest. That wasn’t my mate. Not the man who used to chase moonlight with me or bring wildflowers just to see me blush. Something inside him had changed — something I couldn’t see. When the pack finally slept, I stood by the window, staring at the forest glowing under the full moon. My mark pulsed faintly against my skin — weaker than ever, like a heart giving up. Was this how bonds died? Not in battle or betrayal, but in silence? The door creaked open. I closed my eyes, pretending to sleep as Liam’s footsteps crossed the room. His scent was familiar — pine, smoke — but beneath it lingered something alien. Perfume. A woman’s perfume. He moved quietly, placing something on the table. A small folded paper. Then he left again. I waited until the sound of his steps faded, then approached the table. My fingers trembled as I opened the note. > Don’t look for me. My pulse stopped. The room felt suddenly smaller, the air too thin. And then — a sound. A soft patter at my feet. A drop of blood. Dark and fresh. It slid from the doorway across the wooden floor, a crimson trail vanishing into the night. I barely had time to move before the forest outside erupted with a scream — fierce, broken, and filled with agony. Liam’s voice. The moon above turned cold. And in that instant, I knew — whatever had taken my mate from me, it wasn’t over.