The former Luna went pale, her lips pressing into a tight line as she immediately fell silent, clearly rattled.
Claire, though visibly shaken herself, tried to maintain her facade. She reached out and gently rubbed the former Luna’s back in a show of concern, but her trembling hands and ice-cold palms betrayed her fear. Even she couldn’t mask the tension coursing through the room.
The former Luna couldn’t even register Claire’s touch—her mind was frozen, her heart hammering wildly in her chest as she stared at her son, realizing just how close she had come to crossing a dangerous line.
She had never seen her son so fiercely protective of anyone—so instinctively defensive, as if Addison were his fated mate. It unsettled her. And that unsettling feeling quickly festered into resentment.
The former Luna’s dislike for Addison only deepened. Zion had publicly disrespected her, his own mother, all for a wolfless girl like Addison. It was humiliating. To her, Addison brought nothing but bad luck. Ever since Addison arrived, the Midnight River Pack had suffered loss after loss. It made no sense... or maybe it didn’t need to. The former Luna didn’t care about logic—only about having someone to blame.
That’s why she favored Claire. To her, Claire was everything Addison wasn’t—graceful, strong, and almost a mother to Zion’s pup. The moment Claire met Zion, the war ended. To the former Luna, that was a sign. She was a little old-fashioned, yes. She believed in omens and fate—or maybe, she simply needed a reason to justify her hatred for Addison. Any woman who wasn’t Addison would do.
Many in the pack believed Claire was Zion’s fated mate, and the former Luna didn’t correct them. But she knew her son better than anyone. Claire wasn’t the one—she could feel it. What puzzled her was why Zion allowed the misunderstanding to persist. Why didn’t he correct them? What was he hiding?
Still, when Addison disappeared, the former Luna stopped caring about pack politics. Without Addison in the picture, things felt settled. Peaceful. Even if it was only on the surface.
The mere thought that her son was still thinking about that jinx, Addison, made the former Luna’s blood pressure spike. But she couldn’t say anything—not after Zion made it painfully clear: Addison was his bottom line.
The former Luna’s lips thinned into a tight line. ’That wolfless wretch is the bane of my existence,’ she seethed inwardly as she briskly piled food onto her plate. Still, she didn’t forget to make her favoritism toward Claire blatantly obvious, if only to send a message. Her gaze flicked to Zion—’I will never accept Addison as this pack’s Luna. Only Claire.’ Sensing the gesture, Claire smiled softly, comforted by the former Luna’s public approval.
But Zion didn’t even spare them a glance. Instead, he strode to his seat and slumped into it without a word. Beta Levi sat to his left, while the Luna’s seat remained to his right. Then, with a commanding tone, Zion signaled an omega and declared loud enough for everyone to hear:
"Since my wife, Luna Addison, is away, remove the seat at my right. That place belongs to her—and no one else is to sit there until she returns."
His words rang out like a thunderclap in the hall. Clear, direct, and impossible to misinterpret. Zion didn’t name names, but the message was sharp as a blade: Claire would never be his Luna. No one would. Not in Addison’s absence. He wasn’t looking for a replacement, nor would he entertain one.
The contradiction was glaring. If Claire truly were his fated mate—as so many believed—then why reserve a seat for another woman? Why make such a bold declaration?
It didn’t make sense to anyone. But to Zion, it made all the sense in the world.
Now that Zion had full control over his pack and its people, he was certain that no one would dare let his words leave the room. That confidence gave him the freedom to make his stance unmistakably clear—he no longer bothered to hide his disdain for Claire.
Zion could no longer pretend, not after what Claire had pulled. It was obvious she was eyeing the Luna’s seat now that Addison had gone missing. But he wouldn’t give her an inch. His message today was deliberate and crystal clear. And if Claire still chose to play ignorant, then she couldn’t blame him when he became even more direct—brutally so.
He had already given her more than enough: rescued her, sheltered her, and protected her. But if she insisted on biting the very hand that fed her, then Zion wouldn’t hold back his temper anymore.
He had made the mistake of choosing Claire over Addison once before—and it was a decision he regretted to this day. He refused to make the same mistake again. One error had already buried him in a lifetime of guilt. Another would only deepen the debt he owed Addison—a debt he could never fully repay.
Levi, who sat beside Zion, pretended as if none of it concerned him. He kept eating, calmly ignoring the tension around him. After all, his plate was already full with work and other preparations—he had no intention of cleaning up Zion’s mess.
This was Zion’s doing, after all. He had been the one who let others believe that Claire was his fated mate. So if Claire did something outrageous in Zion’s name or tried to seduce him in broad daylight, no one would question it. It would be seen as natural—fated mates sharing intimacy, making decisions on each other’s behalf.
Frankly, Levi thought Zion was just reaping what he sowed. He didn’t pity him, and he certainly had no reason to step in now.
Breakfast continued in a tense, heavy silence. Half an hour later, Zion finally stood up, having eaten his fill. Without sparing anyone a glance, he strode out of the room, Levi following a step behind, along with the elite warriors accompanying them.
Claire, who had been deliberately dragging her feet to stall their departure, had no choice but to rise from her seat and follow. She knew that once they left the Midnight River Pack, she would be on her own. None of the attendants could come with her—while the omegas could shift into wolf form, their wolves were too weak and too slow to keep up with Zion and his warriors.
Only Claire would be traveling with Zion, Levi, and the few elite warriors. And she was painfully aware of how alone she would truly be.
When they reached the border, Zion stepped behind a tree to undress, followed by Levi and the other warriors. Each of them removed their clothes and stuffed them into magic bags—an item Zion had acquired from the dwarves. These bags were incredibly expensive but highly practical, often used by wealthy merchants due to their space magic enchantment. Despite their compact size, the bags could store an immense number of items, and the straps would adjust automatically to fit the user’s build.
Zion, Levi, and one porter each carried a magic bag. The porter was responsible for storing the clothing and supplies of the other elite warriors—food, tents, and other essentials they might need during the journey. Zion and Levi’s bags held only their personal belongings.
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Thank you so much, my dear Mich34, Jenni_Toney_9894, and Jessica_5598, for the Golden Tickets!!!!