I Was the Starter Mate

In the days after, everything I ate came back up.

My stomach emptied until there was nothing left. Not even bile. So I stopped eating.

With what little money I had left, I contacted the Witch and booked the Moonreturn Rite for after my death.

I called Daisy too. Told her when I died, she was to take my body back to Stormcrown Pack.

Even dead, I wasn't staying on Eric's land. I didn't want him anywhere near where I'd rest.

While I could still stand, I went into the human town and took a portrait at a photography studio.

Proof I'd existed.

The day I picked it up, I ran into Eric and Velda outside the mall.

Velda had designer bags hooked over her arm, pressed into his side.

Eric looked at me and frowned, eyes cold. "Zara, hauling that fat body around just to follow me—don't you get tired?"

I pulled my coat tighter.

No fight left in me. I turned to walk away.

"Who said you could go?"

He grabbed me.

We struggled. The kraft envelope slipped from my hands.

The photo slid out.

My face stared back—gray. Empty.

Eric glanced down and ground it under his shoe.

"New stunt? Cursing yourself to death now?" His voice was ice. "You'll do anything for my attention."

I looked at my portrait, smeared into the dirt. My voice shook. "Move your foot."

"What, you addicted to playing victim?"

He pressed harder, then flicked it into the filthy drain beside us.

"Zara, last warning. Don't pull this crap again."

He slid an arm around Velda and walked off.

She hung back half a step.

When she passed me, she leaned in, voice low enough for only me to hear.

"Cute death portrait. But..."

Her eyes dragged over my swollen face. "At your size, better order an extra-large urn."

She laughed and caught up to him.

I stood there, watching my photo float in the dirty water.

That's exactly how I existed in his heart.

Back in Moonveil territory, I curled up on the couch.

I remembered a hunt years ago. A branch scratched me. Barely anything.

Eric almost wiped out a rogue den over it.

He wouldn't eat. Stayed up all night guarding me, licking the cut like I'd shatter.

Now I'm dying.

And he still thinks I'm faking it.

My phone lit up, snapping me out of it.

A video from Velda.

Eric kissing her. Then a string of intimate bed photos.

I scrolled past, face blank.

Then the next picture loaded.

A hidden cave. Its entrance was overgrown with Moongrass we had planted with our own hands.

Our den. The place we survived.

Before we had territory. When other wolves drove us out, that cave carried us through every winter.

Velda sent a message:

[It's mine now.]

I ran out of Moonveil territory like I'd lost it.

By the time I reached the cave, wolves were already ripping it apart.

"Stop! What are you doing?!"

I rushed them. Too late.

The carved marks on the stone wall—our heights as pups, the tallies from our first hunts—

Gone.

Every piece of my past with Eric smashed to dust.

This was the last clean place in my heart.

Now it was ruined.

Something in me snapped.

I grabbed a stick and swung at them. "Get out! All of you, get out!"

My eyes burned red. I threw everything I had into it.

"Oh my Moon Goddess... Luna's lost it." The wolves backed up, whispering.

"Zara, what are you doing?"

I hadn't even noticed when Eric got there. He stood behind me, watching like I was a headache.

"Why are you destroying this place?" I pointed at the rubble. Tears finally fell. "Do you even know what this cave means to me—"

"Velda is with pup. She needs somewhere absolutely quiet." His voice was flat, like we were talking about a storage shed. "The healer said this cave gathers moonlight. It's good for nurturing a pup."

"There are tons of luxury houses in the territory! Why this cave?!" I roared. "This was our home. Our past!"

He didn't explain.

"Isn't it just a broken den?"

Disgust flickered in his eyes.

"Zara, you're overreacting. As Luna, you should think about the she-wolves. Pups are our future. You're being selfish."

Selfish?

I looked at him.

Almost dying at his side was selfish. Losing my womb for him was selfish. Wanting to keep the last piece of us was selfish.

I cried. Then I started laughing.

"Fine." I nodded and wiped my face. "Take it. From now on, whatever you want—I won't interfere."

I turned and walked away.

Back at the house, I pulled out everything that was ours.

Wedding photos from the human world. Matching mugs. Couple pajamas.

I dumped it all into the fireplace.

If he didn't care about our past, neither would I.

The flames climbed, devoured it all.

When the last piece turned to ash, I called the witch.

"I want to forcefully sever my mate bond."