"Luna… Alpha Ravyn has sent another divorce agreement."
Beta Corvine's voice was low, cautious, like he was afraid the words themselves might shatter her. The sterile scent of antiseptic clung to the pack hospital room, sharp and unforgiving, mixing with the faint hum of healing machines and the quiet beeping of monitors that had become Seraphine's only companions for months.
"He said…" he stammered. "He said he'll reconsider if you accept Daisy as your co-Luna," Corvine continued, swallowing hard. "He's been telling the pack you won't refuse this time. That you love him too much to let him go. That you'll bow eventually and—"
His breath hitched.
Because Luna Seraphine had already taken the papers from his hand.
She didn't rush. Her movements were slow, deliberate, almost eerily calm. Pale fingers traced the edge of the document like she was memorizing its shape, its weight.
The corners were already creased from being folded and unfolded, just like the six that came before it.
She picked up the pen.
And signed.
The scratch of ink against paper echoed unnaturally loud in the quiet room.
Corvine froze.
For a heartbeat, he wondered if he was hallucinating. Maybe the chemical exposure had finally affected him too. Because the Luna he had watched cry silently at night, the Luna who had torn every previous agreement into shreds with shaking hands and burning eyes, was gone.
In her place was a woman disturbingly at peace.
She had been hospitalized for three months.
Three months of pain that gnawed at her bones. Three months of healers whispering outside her door. Three months of paralysis that stole not just her movement, but her pride.
And this was the seventh time Alpha Ravyn had sent divorce papers.
The first time had been before his trip to the Green Pack.
He'd stood tall and unyielding in his office, shadows cutting sharp lines across his face, and told her plainly that love had nothing to do with it. Either she signed over the pack accounts and let him control everything, or she signed the divorce papers.
The second came on their seven-year anniversary.
A date that should've been sacred.
Instead, he'd gifted her betrayal, insisting Daisy, her former nanny's daughter, move into the pack house. Right under her roof. Right into her life.
The third arrived on Seraphine's birthday.
He framed it as concern. As practicality. Daisy would become Bryan's nanny, he said, so Seraphine could "focus on pack duties." As if she hadn't already given her blood, her mind, her soul to the pack.
The fourth was delivered on Ravyn's birthday.
His request? Daisy as his personal assistant.
The fifth followed Daisy's public humiliation of Seraphine before elders, warriors, and omegas alike.
Ravyn hadn't stopped it. Hadn't corrected her. Instead, the divorce papers came as punishment, forcing Seraphine to swallow her dignity and pretend nothing happened.
The sixth arrived on Bryan's sixth birthday.
Ravyn demanded Daisy move into the Luna's chambers.
Because Seraphine 'never used them anyway.'
Each time, Seraphine had ripped the papers apart in front of Corvine. Each tear had been fueled by hope. Foolish, aching hope that love, history, and sacrifice still meant something.
Then came the war.
She remembered the burning sensation when the chemical exploded. The way her lungs seized. The way her legs gave out beneath her. She remembered thinking of Bryan. Of the pack. Of Ravyn.
She remembered waking up unable to feel her body.
Three months in that bed.
Three months of silence from her husband.
No visits. No concern. No warmth.
Only the seventh divorce paper.
This time with a condition so insulting it finally broke what little remained of her love.
Daisy would become co-Luna.
That was when Seraphine understood.
Six chances.
All wasted.
A marriage that had to be begged for was already dead.
"Luna…" Corvine whispered, his eyes wide with disbelief. "Why did you sign it this time?"
Seraphine leaned back against the pillows, her pale hair fanning out like a fragile halo. The weight of exhaustion pressed against her chest, but her voice remained steady.
"My mother once told me," she said softly, "that seven means perfection."
Her eyes drifted to the window, where pale moonlight filtered through reinforced glass.
"Anything that can't be saved after six tries, was never meant to survive the seventh."
The world had changed.
Werewolves lived among humans now. Wore suits. Worked offices. Paid taxes. But technology shackled their instincts. No shifting in public, no new moon festivals, no sacred dances beneath the stars.
So, the pack still mattered, remaining holy.
Most members worked outside the territory. Only the omegas stayed behind, guarding the land and maintaining traditions.
And Alpha Ravyn, her husband, was the second richest man in New York City.
A fortune built quietly with Seraphine's strategies, her negotiations, her sacrifices.
Yet all she received in return was coldness.
Because of a mistake in the past.
She was tired.
Tired of chasing affection that never came. Tired of shrinking herself to fit his expectations. Tired of bleeding silently for a man who never looked back.
This time, it would be only her and her son.
Bryan.
The reason this marriage existed at all.
Seraphine peeled the sheet off her body and swung her legs over the side of the bed.
Corvine gasped. "L-Luna… you can walk?"
The doctors had said she'd never walk again. The chemical had paralyzed her completely.
She stood.
Slowly.
Steadily.
Pain flared, sharp and warning, but she welcomed it. Two months bedridden. One month recovering in silence. No one knew what she had endured. No one knew how she healed.
Not even the doctors.
A faint smile touched her lips, mysterious, unreadable.
A broken marriage was like a broken egg. No matter how carefully you tried, it would never be whole again.
"Tell Ravyn," she said calmly, "that there's no need for a co-Luna."
She took another step, strength returning with terrifying certainty.
"He can make Daisy the Luna after the divorce is finalized."
Corvine didn't argue.
He knew Luna Seraphine was the most powerful Luna of her time.
But not the pack, not Ravyn.
Their marriage had been a mistake from the start.
A decade ago, the packs begged the Moon Goddess to free them from mate bonds. Humans could choose love. Werewolves wanted freedom too.
The wish was granted.
And now they paid the price. Lust, betrayal, fractured loyalty.
Ravyn hated being bound to Seraphine. If that night hadn't happened, he would've never married her. He kept her only because of his son.
As Seraphine reached the hospital doors, music slammed into her senses, loud, celebratory, mocking.
"What's going on?" she asked quietly.
Corvine lowered his head. "It's Daisy's coronation as co-Luna. Alpha Ravyn said, you don't have the guts to refuse."
Seraphine smiled.
But her eyes were cold.
She took the divorce papers back and walked out of the hospital, still in her thin gown.
Pack members stared.
Whispers rippled like wildfire.
"She's alive?"
"She's walking…"
"No wheelchair. No crutches…"
The ceremonial hall glowed with gold and silver. Silks draped the walls. Candles burned. Music thundered.
Alpha Ravyn froze mid-speech.
He was flawless as ever, powerful, commanding, devastatingly handsome.
"Sera," he said softly, stepping toward her. "What are you doing here? You should be recovering."
His voice was gentle.
His eyes were ice.
She had never lived in his warmth.
Only Daisy had.
Someone whispered, "Is that Luna Seraphine? She looks… diminished."
Her hair was dull. Her skin pale. The hospital gown clung awkwardly to her fragile frame.
She ignored them all.
When Ravyn reached her, she held the papers out.
"There's no need to crown her co-Luna," she said clearly. "You're free to make her the Luna."
Her gaze locked onto his.
"I already signed the divorce papers."
The hall fell into stunned silence.
And for the first time in seven years, Alpha Ravyn's perfect expression cracked.