The sharp crack of my palm against Julian's cheek echoed through the Medical Den's lobby. Five years of pain, grief, and rage fueled that slap. Every ignored birthday, every lonely night, every time he chose Natalie over his own family—all of it was in that single blow.
"We're done," I said, my voice steady despite the storm inside me. "Do you hear me, Julian? Done."
Julian's amber eyes widened, not with pain but with shock. Alpha Kings weren't slapped. They weren't defied. And they certainly weren't left.
I clutched Violet's urn tighter against my chest, her ashes all I had left of my beautiful girl. Patients, nurses, and doctors stared, frozen in disbelief at my audacity.
"Have you lost your mind?" Julian growled, his hand covering the red mark spreading across his cheek.
"No. I've finally found it." I stepped back, creating distance between us. "While our daughter was dying—while she took her last breath waiting for you—you were with your mistress. You chose Natalie and her daughter over Violet every single time."
Julian's face darkened. "Aurelia, this has gone far enough—"
"You're right. It has." I turned away from him, addressing the stunned onlookers. "Let everyone know. I, Aurelia Monroe, reject Julian Valois as my mate. I am no longer Luna of this pack."
Gasps rippled through the lobby. No one rejected an Alpha King—especially not the powerful Julian Valois.
His hand clamped down on my shoulder. "You don't get to make that decision."
I shrugged off his touch as if it burned. "Watch me."
Then I walked away, head high, carrying all that remained of my daughter while leaving behind the man who had failed us both.
***
Three days later, Julian stood in our empty bedroom, rage radiating from his powerful frame. Drawers hung open, closet doors gaped wide. My scent was already fading from the room we'd shared for five years.
I'd blocked his number. Ignored his commands. Disappeared with no trace except a brief note: "Don't look for me."
His wolf clawed beneath his skin, demanding he find his mate—not from love but from outraged pride. No one walked away from Julian Valois. No one.
It took him less than an hour to track me to my foster mother's abandoned cottage at the edge of pack territory. The small house stood lonely among overgrown gardens, a place I'd inherited but rarely visited. Until now.
Julian slammed his fist against the door. "Aurelia! Open this door immediately!"
When no answer came, he pounded harder. "I know you're in there! I can smell you!"
The door finally swung open. I stood before him, dressed in plain clothes, my chestnut hair pulled back in a simple ponytail. My emerald eyes, once soft with adoration for him, now glittered with cold defiance.
"What do you want?" I asked, voice flat.
Julian pushed past me into the cottage. "What I want is for my mate to stop acting like a lunatic and come home."
"This is my home now."
"Don't be ridiculous," he scoffed, looking around at the dusty furniture and faded wallpaper. "You're the Luna of Silvercrest Pack. Your place is in the Alpha mansion, by my side."
I crossed my arms. "You never wanted me by your side. You wanted Natalie there. You've made that clear for five years."
Julian ran a hand through his black hair, frustration evident in every line of his body. "Is that what this is about? You're jealous of Natalie? Throwing a tantrum to get my attention?"
A bitter laugh escaped my lips. "You think this is about attention? Our daughter is dead, Julian!"
"Stop saying that!" he roared, his Alpha voice vibrating through the small room. "Violet is fine! She's just sick!"
I moved to the mantle where Violet's urn sat and picked it up, cradling it like the precious thing it was.
"These are her ashes," I said softly. "She died three days ago while you were with Natalie and Isabelle. She died asking for her daddy."
Julian's face contorted. "Put that down. This sick game has gone too far."
"Game? You think I'm playing games?" My voice cracked. "When was the last time you saw Violet, Julian? Three weeks ago? A month? Can you even remember?"
His expression faltered briefly before hardening again. "I've been busy running the pack. You know that."
"Yet you always had time for Isabelle's dance recitals and school events."
Julian stalked toward me, his massive frame towering over my petite one. "I don't need to explain myself to you."
"No, you don't. Because we're done." I set the urn back on the mantle. "I've arranged for the divorce papers. As soon as they're ready—"
"Divorce?" Julian's laugh was cruel. "Werewolves don't divorce, sweetheart. We're mated for life."
"Then I'll live my life far away from you."
His amber eyes flashed dangerously. "You're not going anywhere. You're my mate. Mine."
"I was never yours," I said quietly. "I was just a convenient breeding machine who produced a daughter you never wanted."
Julian grabbed my arms, fingers digging into my flesh. "You will come home. Now."
I looked up at him, unafraid. "Or what? You'll drag me back? Force me to play happy family while you fuck Natalie behind my back? Those days are over."
He released me as if burned, shock registering on his handsome face. I'd never spoken to him like this before.
"You need help, Aurelia," he said, his voice softening into something patronizing. "This delusion about Violet—"
"Get out," I whispered.
Julian ignored me, reaching into his jacket. "I brought something. For Violet." He pulled out a small package wrapped in pink paper. "A dress. For her birthday next week."
The sight of that little package broke something inside me. I snatched it from his hands and tore off the wrapping. Inside was a pale blue princess dress with silver stars—identical to the one I'd seen Isabelle wearing just last week.
"You bought the same dress for Isabelle," I said, the fabric crumpling in my trembling hands. "I saw her wearing it at the pack gathering. You couldn't even buy our daughter an original gift."
Julian's brow furrowed. "What? No, I—"
"You got it in Isabelle's size first. Then decided to get the same for Violet as an afterthought." I threw the dress at his chest. "Just like everything else. Violet was always an afterthought to you."
The dress fell to the floor between us.
"That's not true," Julian said, but his eyes betrayed him.
"You never loved her. You never even tried." Tears burned my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. "Do you know what she asked for every birthday? Every Christmas? To spend time with her daddy. Just one day. And you couldn't even give her that."
Julian's phone rang, cutting through the tension. He glanced at the screen, then back at me.
"Answer it," I said, already knowing who it was. "Don't keep her waiting on my account."
Julian hesitated, then accepted the call. "Natalie, now's not a good time."
I could hear her voice through the speaker, high and demanding. Julian listened, his expression softening in a way it never had for me.
"Is Isabelle okay?" he asked, concern evident in his voice.
More chatter from Natalie. Julian nodded.
"I'll be right there," he promised. "Just hold on."
He ended the call and looked at me with no trace of remorse. "I have to go. Isabelle's running a fever after her surgery."
"Of course she is," I said flatly. "And of course you're running to her side."
Julian sighed heavily. "Look, I'll have someone bring your things from the mansion. We can talk about... all this... when you've calmed down."
I stared at him, standing there with my daughter's gift crumpled at his feet, ready to abandon me yet again for his other family.
"She needed a kidney," I said, my voice hollow. "Our daughter needed a kidney to live. And somehow, Isabelle got one instead. On Violet's birthday. While you were with them."
Julian's jaw tightened. "That's a serious accusation, Aurelia."
"It's the truth. But you'll never believe it, will you? You'll never believe anything bad about precious Natalie."
His phone buzzed again. Another text from her.
"Go," I said, turning away from him. "Go to the daughter you've chosen."
Julian hesitated, looking between me and the door.
"I'll send Dr. Reynolds to check on you," he said finally. "You're clearly not well."
I didn't answer, didn't watch as he walked to the door. But his final words cut deeper than any knife.
"I'll tell Isabelle you said hello," he said. "We're still on for our family camping trip this weekend. I promised her father-daughter time, and I won't disappoint her."
The door closed behind him, and only then did I allow myself to collapse, sinking to the floor beside my daughter's rejected gift.
The mate bond between us stretched thin as he walked away—not to grieve his daughter, but to comfort another man's child who wore the kidney meant for mine.