Lira's breath hitched, her eyes darting between Nyma and Adrain—her so-called protector now writhing on the ground, his Lycan strength useless against the Infidelity Mark burning through his flesh.
His Luna, unbowed.
The mighty Lycan Prince, brought to his knees. He was struggling. Struggling to command his Luna. Struggling to even look her in the eyes.
Lira paused amidst. Fear and doubt creeping in.
Adrain's hand trembled as he reached for Nyma, his fingers brushing empty air where her shadow had been. "Nyma... please stop... the mark... it burns—"
Nyma recoiled, her expression twisted in disgust. "Now it burns, Adrain?" Nyma's voice was a whisper of winter wind as she loomed over her fallen mate. "Good." Her claw traced the smoking mark, making his back arch in agony. "Let it scar so deep even your Lycan healing fails. Let every wolf who sees it know—their Prince Alpha groveled for a whore's affection."
Nyma withdrew her hand as if loathing his touch.
Adrain gritted his teeth, his body still wracked with the pain of the Infidelity Mark. He tried to rise, but his limbs trembled under the weight of it, his Lycan strength failing him. His golden eyes flickered— in desperation.
"I want you to remember this, Adrain." Nyma's shadow fell across Adrain like a funeral shroud as she stepped closer. The morning light caught the silver streaks of tears on her cheeks - the only betrayal of her otherwise glacial composure.
"You think this mark burns?" Her whisper carried the weight of centuries. "It's but an ember compared to the fire you lit in our bond." Her claw traced the angry brand, making his muscles seize. "This is nothing, Adrain. Nothing compared to the scar you've left on our child's legacy."
"You spat on our bond. You mocked the gods who fated us. And worst of all…" The wind carried the scent of burning flesh between them as she leaned down, her eyes boring into his in a cruel parody of intimacy. "When our pup first sees this mark and asks why their father wears a coward's brand, I'll tell them the truth." Her breath hitched - the first crack in her armor. "That their sire valued a moment of pleasure more than a lifetime of honor."
Her voice was calm now, too calm, edged with something far more dangerous than fury. "You are no mate of mine, Adrain. No husband. And you will never—never—be a father to this child."
Adrain sucked in a sharp breath, as if she had plunged a blade straight into his chest.
The Infidelity Mark pulsed like a second heartbeat on Adrain's chest, its angry red lines spiderwebbing across his golden skin. Nyma watched the way his muscles twitched with every throb of pain - a small satisfaction amidst the hurricane of betrayal tearing through her soul.
"You think this is just about shame?" Her voice cracked like thin ice. "This mark is mercy, Adrain. A kindness compared to what my wolf demands."
Her hands trembled as they instinctively cradled her swollen belly. The child within kicked sharply, as if sensing its mother's anguish. The mating bond between them still held - frayed and bleeding, but intact. For now.
Lunara raged beneath her skin, claws scraping at the confines of her human form. "Let me out! Let me tear his throat out!" the wolf howled.
Nyma clenched her jaw. No. She shut her wolf back.
Nyma stepped back, her expression unreadable as she shot Adrain a final look. "You will carry your shame. And you will watch as I raise this child without you."
Adrain's golden eyes—always so proud—flickered with something Nyma had never seen before. Not just pain. His breath hitched, and she saw the flicker of anguish in his eyes, but she didn't care. She had nothing left to give him.
The Infidelity Mark would remain. And so would his shame. She would be the one to reject him first, but she knew being pregnant she couldn't take the pain of their mate bond breaking.
She took a step back, her hands trembling as she cradled her stomach. Lunara whimpered, aching to unleash carnage, but Nyma had no fight left in her. Not now. She had done what needed to be done.
Nyma felt no satisfaction, no victory—only the cold emptiness of knowing that the man she loved had shattered her beyond repair. She didn't look back.
Nyma's hands clenched at her sides as she walked away, her breath steady, controlled—but inside, she was unraveling.
She wanted to rip the mate bond apart, to sever the connection that still pulsed between them like a cruel joke. But she knew the truth. She couldn't. Not yet.
The weight of her child in her womb was more than just physical—it was a tether, an anchor that stopped her from doing what she ached to do.
Breaking the mate bond would shatter her. It would break her wolf. And worse… it could harm her baby.
So she swallowed the unbearable.
The Infidelity Mark would remain, a burning brand of his disgrace, a punishment the entire pack would witness. He would wake up every day knowing what he had lost. Knowing that she had been the one to reject him first—even if the bond itself still bound them.
Her fingers curled over her stomach, a silent promise.
One day, when her child was safe, when her body could endure the agony… she would rip their bond apart herself.
And then, Adrain would know what true suffering felt like.
She further walked away, her wolf howling in grief, her child safe in her womb, and her heart locked away behind walls of ice.
Nyma had just taken a five measured steps before the air shattered behind her. Bred in fury, as Lira was not one to accept defeat so easily.
A guttural snarl tore through the clearing as Lira's body contorted violently - bones snapping, fur erupting from skin, a black nightmare taking shape. The transformation was too fast, too desperate, fueled by wounded pride and venomous jealousy. Nyma's steps faltered, her back stiffened as a sudden shift in energy crackled behind her. She turned just in time to see Lira's body convulsed, her bones cracking as she shifted.
Nyma spun to face the threat, one arms flying to her swollen belly. Every instinct screamed to shift, to meet the challenge with tooth and claw - but the life within her stayed her hand.
Lunara surged forward in her mind, a silver storm raging against its confines. "Let me out!"
Panic surged through Nyma's veins, instincts roaring to life. She could not shift—not with the child growing inside her.