Celeste's body ached with every step, but the pain was nothing compared to the hollow ache in her chest. She had never felt so small, so utterly alone.
She moved through the packhouse like a ghost, her presence barely acknowledged. The warriors who had once trained beside her walked past without a glance. The omegas whispered when she entered a room. Even the elders, who had once praised her for her dedication to the pack, now looked at her with disapproval.
She had spent years proving herself. Years standing by Kieran's side.
And now they were all turning away.
Her fingers trembled as she reached for the door to her shared room with Kieran. She hesitated. Then, taking a deep breath, she pushed it open.
Kieran wasn't there.
The bed was neatly made, untouched from the night before. His scent was already fading.
A lump formed in her throat, but she swallowed it down. This is just another rough patch. He'll come back to me. He has to.
She sat on the edge of the bed, her muscles screaming in protest. But just as she began to let herself relax, the sound of laughter echoed from the hallway.
Feminine laughter.
Celeste froze.
The voices grew closer.
"…he's finally seeing the truth," a woman said, her tone dripping with satisfaction.
Another chuckled. "He deserves better than a weak Luna."
A sharp, bitter taste filled Celeste's mouth. She knew that voice—Lillian, one of the female warriors. One of the wolves who had never accepted her.
And she was talking about Kieran.
Celeste forced herself to her feet and stepped out into the hallway.
Lillian was standing with two other female warriors, their arms crossed, their faces smug. When they saw her, they didn't even have the decency to look guilty.
Instead, Lillian tilted her head, eyes filled with mock sympathy. "Oh, Luna, you look exhausted. Rough morning?"
The others laughed softly.
Celeste's nails dug into her palms, but she refused to react. "Is there something you need?"
Lillian smirked. "Just passing through. But you might want to check the training grounds later. Kieran's been spending a lot of time there. With me."
The words struck like a blade between her ribs.
Celeste forced her expression to remain blank. She wouldn't give them the satisfaction of seeing her break.
She turned and walked away, ignoring the laughter that followed her down the hall.
---
That evening, Celeste found herself standing at the edge of the training grounds, hidden in the shadows.
She had told herself she wouldn't come. That it didn't matter. That she didn't care.
But she did.
Her chest tightened as she spotted Kieran sparring with Lillian. They moved in perfect sync, matching each other's strikes effortlessly.
Celeste had once been his partner.
Now, she was nothing more than an outsider watching from the sidelines.
A sharp laugh rang out as Lillian lunged, knocking Kieran onto his back. He let out a low chuckle and pushed himself up, shaking his head.
"You're getting better," he said.
Lillian smirked. "Maybe I just have a good teacher."
Celeste turned away before she could hear more.
Her hands clenched at her sides as she walked back toward the packhouse, each step heavier than the last.
She had always believed that the mate bond was unbreakable. That no matter what happened, it would hold them together.
But now…
Now she wasn't so sure.
And for the first time, she wondered—what if she wasn't meant to be Kieran's Luna at all?
Celeste walked blindly through the corridors of the packhouse, her heart pounding in her ears.
The words she'd overheard rang in her mind, over and over again.
"Maybe I just have a good teacher."
Lillian's voice. Kieran's low chuckle. The way they moved together so easily, so effortlessly—like Celeste had never even been part of his world.
She felt sick.
As she turned a corner, a sharp shoulder bumped into her, sending her stumbling back.
"Watch where you're going."
Marcus.
He barely even glanced at her, but the two warriors beside him chuckled, exchanging knowing looks.
Celeste straightened, her fists clenching at her sides. "You ran into me."
Marcus arched a brow. "Did I?"
One of the warriors, a tall, broad-shouldered man named Tobias, let out a low laugh. "Careful, Marcus. Our Luna is getting bold."
The mocking way he said the word made something burn in Celeste's chest.
She lifted her chin, refusing to let them see her waver. "Say what you really mean."
Marcus smirked. "Fine." He stepped closer, his presence overwhelming. "A Luna is supposed to be strong, respected, worthy. But tell me, Celeste—who actually respects you anymore?"
The words hit like a slap.
She forced herself to hold his gaze, but it was harder than it should have been.
Marcus leaned in, voice dropping to a whisper. "Kieran doesn't defend you. The pack doesn't follow you. And me?" His lips curled. "I'm just waiting for the day you finally break."
A slow, simmering rage built inside her, but before she could say a word, Tobias let out a loud, exaggerated sigh.
"Come on, Marcus. She's not worth it."
Marcus held her gaze a moment longer, then scoffed and turned away.
Celeste stood frozen as the three of them walked off, their laughter echoing down the hallway.
Her breaths came shallow and uneven, her fingers trembling at her sides.
They weren't just mocking her. They were waiting for her to crumble.
And Kieran was doing nothing to stop it.
---
Later That Night
Celeste sat in the empty dining hall, untouched food in front of her.
She had barely eaten in days.
A creak of a chair made her look up. Rowan slid into the seat across from her, his sharp gaze scanning her face.
"You look like hell," he said bluntly.
Celeste let out a dry laugh. "Thanks."
Rowan leaned back, arms crossed. "Kieran's being an idiot."
Her stomach twisted. "I don't need your pity."
Rowan tilted his head. "I don't pity you. I think you're stronger than you realize. But you keep waiting for Kieran to see it, and I'm telling you—he won't."
Celeste looked away, her throat tight.
He wasn't saying anything she hadn't already felt in her gut.
But hearing it aloud made it real.
Rowan exhaled through his nose, shaking his head. "You need to stop breaking yourself for him. If you keep waiting for him to come back to you, you'll be waiting forever."
Celeste swallowed hard. "And what do you suggest I do?"
Rowan held her gaze, voice quiet but firm.
"Rise."
The word settled deep in her bones.
Rise.
She wanted to. But how?
Before she could respond, the door swung open.
Kieran strode in, flanked by Lillian and a few others. They were laughing, their voices light and easy.
Kieran's gaze swept the room—and landed on Celeste.
For a fleeting second, something flickered in his expression.
Then he looked away.
Like she was nothing.
Celeste's breath hitched, something in her chest shattering.
Rowan's voice was calm, but edged with steel.
"See?" he murmured. "He's already gone."
Celeste's fingers dug into the table.
She had spent years loving Kieran. Fighting for him. Fighting for them.
And yet, the moment things got difficult, he had left her behind.
Rowan was right.
She was waiting for a man who wasn't coming back.
The realization was as painful as it was freeing.
Celeste closed her eyes, inhaled deeply—then exhaled.
It was time to stop waiting.
It was time to rise.