My plan was simple.
Destroy their perfect little world, then vanish from the Hale Pack forever.
No trace of me. No scent. No bond. Nothing left behind but silence.
Every detail had been arranged the perfect stage for their downfall. I had planned to expose their betrayal under the light of the full moon, in front of every wolf in the pack. My proof was ready, my heart already numb. I would tear apart their illusion of love and dominance, then walk away without looking back.
But fate has a cruel sense of humor.
Julian the Alpha I once called my mate left the ceremony early.
And Camilla never showed up at all.
Without them, my plan meant nothing.
Who was I supposed to confront? Who would I humiliate when the wolves I needed to destroy weren’t even there?
The rage I’d built for weeks raw, electric collapsed into emptiness.
I was forced to wait, searching for another chance to make them pay.
But that chance never came.
That same night, I died.
One heartbeat, I was flesh and fury. The next, I was nothing.
A whisper. A shadow. A spirit trapped between the mortal world and the pack’s astral plane.
My wolf my soul was ripped from my body, scattered by the Moon Goddess herself.
I lost. Completely.
What power does a dead she-wolf have?
How could I compete with the living with the ones still breathing, scheming, and basking in the warmth of the moonlight?
I couldn’t fight for Julian’s heart anymore. I couldn’t protect the pup I’d lost before it ever drew breath. I couldn’t make them see the truth.
I had become a discarded echo in their story nothing more than a faint howl in the wind.
Even in death, Julian never searched for me.
He didn’t ask what happened.
Didn’t demand answers from the Elders.
Didn’t feel the bond severing in agony as I faded.
He just... moved on.
I watched him, unseen, slipping through the days like a ghost haunting her own memories.
He returned to the packhouse. To his duties. To her.
As if I had never existed.
Every tender word, every promise under the moon, every whispered "forever" it all felt like a cruel joke.
I regretted every moment I’d wasted loving him.
That evening, the Morrigan bloodline my family held a grand banquet beneath the silver glow of the full moon. The air buzzed with laughter and music, the clinking of glasses echoing through the packhouse. It was all so normal.
As if nothing had happened.
Camilla arrived draped in a pale rose gown, soft and innocent, her hand looped through Julian’s arm. She tilted her head just right, her voice sugar-coated.
"Julian."
He flinched slightly, pulling away as if his instincts rebelled before his mind could catch up.
"Camilla, don’t," he murmured. "If Elena sees us like this... she’ll get upset."
The words slipped from him unconsciously an instinctive echo of the mate bond that once tied us.
He didn’t even realize it.
My mother laughed lightly, sipping her wine. "Oh, Julian, you worry too much. Elena was always overly sensitive," she said, waving her hand as though I were a spoiled cub throwing tantrums. "She could never stand Camilla’s sweetness. Jealousy, perhaps."
My brothers joined in, chuckling, tousling Camilla’s perfect hair.
"Yeah, our sweet Camilla’s the gentlest she-wolf in the pack. Elena could never compare."
I stood in the corner of that glittering hall unseen, unheard, unwanted watching the family who had abandoned me celebrate with my murderer.
Julian’s voice cut through the hum of the pack’s banquet like a blade.
"Where’s Elena?" he demanded, scanning the room. His tone wasn’t commanding this time not the voice of an Alpha but something quieter. Uneasy. Almost human.
"She still hasn’t come back?"
So that was it. He hadn’t been heartless after all. He just thought I’d run back to the packhouse, licking my wounds in silence.
But that place stopped feeling like home long ago.
The Morrigan mansion was a den full of wolves who looked at me not as one of their own, but as a burden a mistake the Moon Goddess never meant to make.
Why would I ever return there... bleeding, broken, and alone?
My mother frowned slightly, her expression tight with mild irritation rather than concern.
"She’s still sulking? I thought she would’ve returned to you by now."
Not one of them mentioned the patrols.
Not one whispered to the Moon for my safety.
Not one showed true worry.
My chest ached not from bitterness, but from a deep, primal sadness that reached my wolf’s core.
I had never betrayed them. Never challenged their authority. I’d loved them, protected them, carried their name with loyalty and pride... and yet, my absence was treated like an inconvenience.
Nolan, my older brother, was the only one who looked uneasy.
"Should we check with the patrols again?" he asked, his voice low but tense. "The sentinels said they found traces of blood near the border. What if something really happened?"
Camilla lowered her head then, her voice trembling with false guilt.
"It’s my fault," she whispered softly, just loud enough for the room to hear. "I shouldn’t have called Julian yesterday. I didn’t mean to cause tension between them. I never thought Elena would... react like this. Then just vanish."
Her tone was flawless innocence wrapped in poison.
Every word was a carefully sharpened lie, dipped in honey.
She knew exactly how to twist the story, how to paint herself as the fragile sister, caught in the middle of my imagined jealousy.
And the pack believed her.
They always believed her.
Around the long oak table, laughter resumed, cautious at first, then bolder. The clinking of glasses, the low murmur of conversation it all blurred together into one mocking chorus.
To them, I was just another emotional she-wolf, too dramatic for her own good.
Nothing to worry about.
Nothing worth taking seriously.
Except for Julian.
He didn’t laugh.
He didn’t join their dismissive remarks.
He sat quietly, his golden eyes growing darker, clouded with something I couldn’t quite name. Regret, maybe. Or doubt. For the first time in a long while, the Alpha looked uncertain.
After the feast ended, he didn’t follow Camilla to the dance floor or linger with the Elders.
Instead, he walked out into the cool night, the moonlight silvering his sharp features. His steps were slow, heavy with thought, until they carried him to my chamber.
He stopped before the door the one that still carried my scent, faint but familiar.
For a moment, he just stood there, fingers hovering above the handle, like he was afraid to touch it.
Inside, the room was exactly as I’d left it. My clothes still neatly folded. My books still stacked on the windowsill. The faint trace of my perfume lingered in the air, mingling with the smell of rain that had slipped through the open window.
He looked around in silence.
And for the first time since I’d died, I saw something crack in his eyes.
The Alpha façade slipped, and beneath it was just a man who didn’t understand why the world suddenly felt wrong.
He lit a cigarette, the flame flickering weakly in the dim light. The smoke curled around him like a ghost like me.
When he finally spoke, his voice was barely a growl.
He pulled out his phone and called Jasper, his Beta.
"Any news?" he asked. The words were soft, but every syllable carried tension. "Did the trackers find her scent beyond the border?"
A pause.
Then his voice dropped lower, rougher.
"Did they find Elena’s body?"