The 30-Day Severance, Revenge Before I Leave Chapter 03

The 30-Day Severance, Revenge Before I Leave Chapter 03

The next evening, after the truth about Carl and Selina spread through the packhouse, two enforcers came to my hospital room.

They did not meet my eyes.

“The Alpha has ordered you to recover at North Ridge, Luna.”

North Ridge.

No one recovered there.

It was an old manor at the edge of Silvermoon land, too far from the packhouse, too cold in winter, too quiet even in daylight. Carl used it when someone needed to disappear without causing a scandal.

I wrapped Mia in a clean blanket and stood.

Before I left the hospital, I stopped at the small Pack Registry office beside the maternity ward.

The enforcers moved to block me.

“I want to see the registry,” I said.

One of them hesitated. “Luna—”

“Move.”

Maybe it was habit. Maybe some part of me still sounded like their Luna.

Either way, the enforcers stepped aside.

The Pack Registry terminal glowed against the wall. I entered Carl’s name first, and his bloodline record opened on the screen.

There it was.

Leo Silvermoon. Firstborn son. Awaiting First Blessing.

I stared until the words blurred. Then I searched my own name.

Elena Silvermoon. Luna. Mate of Alpha Carl Silvermoon.

No child listed under my name.

No Mia.

I pressed my palm to the glass.

An unregistered pup did not exist. Not to the elders, not under pack law, not in the bloodline records that decided who belonged.

Carl had not forgotten her.

He had erased her.

The enforcer behind me shifted uneasily.

“Luna, the car is waiting.”

I turned off the screen.

“Yes,” I said. “It is.”

North Ridge was dark when we arrived.

The gates groaned shut behind the SUV. Snow had gathered on the stone steps. No servants waited outside. No fire burned in the windows.

I carried Mia inside myself.

The nursery had old wallpaper, a cracked mirror, and a crib covered with a sheet. I wiped the dust away with my sleeve before laying her down.

She slept through it.

That hurt more than if she had cried.

I stood there for a long moment, listening to the wind move through the manor.

Then I went to the hearth.

The old crest was still carved into the stone. Moon over wolf. Blood under crown.

My mother had shown it to me once when I was a child.

Only use this when you are ready to lose everything, she had said.

I bit into my palm. Pain cut through the numbness. Blood welled up, bright against my skin.

I pressed my hand to the crest.

“Moon Goddess,” I said quietly. “Silvermoon has taken my loyalty and used it against my child.”

The room chilled.

I kept my hand on the stone.

“They do not get my blood anymore.”

For a moment, the hearth stayed dark.

Then silver light bled through the ashes. No flames. No thunder. No shaking walls.

It simply opened.

A voice rose inside me, ancient and calm.

“Do you ask to break the bond?”

I looked back at Mia.

She was so small in that borrowed crib.

“Yes.”

“There is no return from this.”

“I know.”

The light touched my wrist.

It burned, but I did not pull away.

A thin silver mark appeared beneath my skin, circling my pulse like a bracelet.

Then numbers formed.

30 days.

The bond in my chest tightened once.

Hard.

Like Carl had reached through the dark and closed his hand around my heart.

Then something inside it began to loosen.

I sank to my knees, breathing through the pain.

Mia stirred.

I crawled to the crib and rested my bloody hand against the wooden rail.

“It’s all right,” I whispered. “Mommy’s here.”

An hour later, the front door slammed open.

Carl came in with snow on his coat and anger in his eyes.

“What did you do at the hospital?”

I sat beside the crib.

“I checked the registry.”

His jaw tightened.

“The elders have questions now.”

“So do I.”

“Elena.”

“My daughter’s name isn’t there.”

Carl looked away first.

That was answer enough.

“It’s temporary,” he said. “The elders can’t handle two newborns at once. Not before the First Blessing.”

“Leo has a name.”

“Leo is my son.”

The words came too quickly. Too naturally.

I stood.

“And Mia?”

He looked at the crib, but not at her face.

“Mia will be taken care of.”

I almost laughed.

Taken care of?

Was that what he called hiding her away? Removing her from the registry? Treating his own daughter like a problem that needed to disappear?

Carl stepped closer and gripped my chin.

“Do not start a war you cannot win,” he said. “Stay here. Rest. Let me handle the succession.”

His fingers were warm against my skin.

Mine were ice.

“As you wish, Alpha.”

Carl frowned.

For a second, his grip loosened. Something passed through his face. Confusion, maybe. Or the first small warning from a bond that had begun to rot.

Then he let go.

“Good.”

He left before Mia woke.

I listened to his car pull away from the manor.

Then I looked down at the silver mark on my wrist.

By dawn, twenty-nine days remained.

Carl thought he had sent me here to keep me quiet.

Actually, he had sent me back to the place Silvermoon should have feared most.