Now.

Leila was seventeen when the dream changed again.

It began the way it always did. She closed her eyes at night and slipped into the other world, carried on a thread that bound her soul to his. She expected to find him where she often did — on the battlefield, or alone in some cold chamber, his skin torn, his body aching, his spirit refusing to bend.

But this time, he wasn’t broken.

He stood in a hall lit by golden fire, surrounded by his people. Torches flared, the air thick with excitement. Their eyes all fixed on him — tall, proud, radiant in his authority.

Leila felt the familiar ache of admiration bloom in her chest. Even here, even in his world, she always felt invisible, unseen. But she had grown used to it. What mattered was that she was there. With him.

Then his gaze shifted.

For a heartbeat she thought — foolishly, desperately — that he might have sensed her at last. That his golden eyes were seeking her. That after years of touching him without being seen, of healing him without being known, he might finally see the girl who had never left his side.

But his eyes weren’t searching for her.

They had already found someone else.

She followed his gaze. A figure stood at the edge of the hall. A woman. She was little more than a silhouette, the light casting her into shadow, but even in darkness Leila could feel the truth: she was beautiful. Too beautiful. The kind of beauty that claimed attention without effort, that bent destiny to her will.

Levi’s chest rose and fell sharply. His lips parted, and in a voice that shook with awe and hunger, he whispered one word.

“Mate.”

The sound of it split Leila’s heart in two.

He moved as if pulled by chains of fate, striding across the hall with a ferocity she had never seen. His hand closed around the woman’s neck, his head bent, and then his teeth sank into her skin.

The hall erupted in cheers, howls of triumph and joy, the celebration of a king who had found his queen.

Leila could not breathe.

She stumbled back, clutching her chest as if the pain there might rip her open. She had watched him suffer, she had held him when no one else cared, she had given him every tear, every shred of love she had to give. She had believed — no, she had known — that she was his. That all her lonely years would end with him, that the thread tying them together was destiny.

And yet…

It wasn’t her.

It had never been her.

Her knees buckled. She fell to the floor of the dream, her hands pressed to the cold stone, sobbing silently as he marked another. She wanted to scream, to beg, to demand why fate had been so cruel. But no sound left her throat. Her voice was nothing. She was nothing.

The torches blurred into gold streaks as her tears filled her vision. The cheers of his people twisted into knives in her ears.

And still, Levi did not see her.

He never had.

She woke with a sharp gasp, her pillow damp beneath her cheek, her eyes raw from tears she hadn’t realized she shed even in her sleep. Her chamber was dark, the only light seeping through the narrow window — faint, flickering, the reflection of the fires burning in the city beyond.

The sound drifted in next: laughter, music, the pounding of drums, the ululating cries of celebration. The whole capital was alive with joy.

They were celebrating him. His mate. His Luna. Still.

Leila sat up slowly, her body heavy as though the dream had left bruises on her skin. Her hands shook as she pressed them to her face. For a long time she sat in silence, the muffled noise of the festival outside pressing against the walls of her solitude.

Then her gaze fell to the small drawer beside her bed.

She reached for it, sliding it open. Inside, where she had hidden it since the day of the ceremony, lay the simple band of her marriage ritual — the ring he had given her when the treaty bound them together.

She picked it up, holding it in her palm. It looked so small, so meaningless now. A scrap of metal, cold against her skin.

Her fingers trembled. Would he even remember this ring existed? Would he look at it, tucked away in his chamber’s drawer, and scoff at the foolish girl who had once been chained to him by law? Or would he simply throw it away, forgetting she had ever been his?

The thought made fresh tears spill down her cheeks. She curled into herself, clutching the ring to her chest as though it could shield her from the truth.

Outside, the music rose higher. Fireworks lit the sky, their light flashing across her window. The people sang his name, cheered for their king, howled for their new Luna.

Inside, Leila sat in silence, her only company the echo of her own sobs.

She had given him everything — her dreams, her love, her tears. He would never know. He would never see.

And now, he had someone else.

Someone chosen by fate.

The fairy tale she once smiled for was over. All that remained was the hollow ache of a girl who had wanted nothing more than to be loved.