I wore gray to meet him.
Not mourning black. Not ceremonial white. Just a simple gray dress that buttoned to my throat and made me look like I had already moved on.
Dominic arrived at Silverfang's pack house three days after the rejection. My father's Delta sent word through the pack link that the Ironridge heir was at the gates requesting an audience with Alpha Gerald. I intercepted the message before my father could respond.
*Tell him I will see him in the formal receiving hall,* I sent back. *Alone.*
The Delta hesitated. *Luna Elodie, your father should—*
*Now,* I said, and let just enough edge into the command that he went quiet.
I walked down to the hall slowly. My legs were steady. The wolfsbane had cleared my system two days ago, and the bond-wound in my chest had settled into something manageable — a dull ache, like an old scar that only hurt when I pressed on it directly. I did not press.
The receiving hall was built for visiting Alphas and formal disputes. High ceilings, stone walls, a long table that could seat twenty. Dominic stood at the far end with his hands in his pockets, looking at the carved crest above the fireplace like he had never seen it before.
He turned when I walked in.
For a moment neither of us spoke. I saw him take in the gray dress, the way my hair was pulled back tight, the fact that I was not crying. Something flickered across his face — surprise, maybe, or confusion.
"Elodie," he said carefully. "I came to—"
"Apologize?" I finished for him. My voice was calm. I had practiced it in the mirror that morning until it sounded like someone else's. "Explain? Clarify your political position?"
He frowned. "I came to talk."
"Then talk."
He shifted his weight. I watched his shoulders tighten under his jacket. "What happened at the ceremony was necessary," he said slowly, like he was reading from a script he had prepared on the drive over. "But I handled it poorly. The timing, the public setting — I should have spoken to you privately first. That was a mistake."
I let the silence stretch.
"A mistake," I repeated.
He nodded. "Yes."
"Not the rejection itself. Just the method."
"Elodie—"
"Because the rejection was always going to happen," I continued, and my voice stayed level even as something hot and sharp climbed up the back of my throat. "It was planned. Calculated. Four years of investment so you could gut the Willis name from the inside. Isn't that what you wrote?"
His face went very still.
"I found your journals," I said. "And your phone. The one you thought was hidden."
For three seconds he did not move. Then his jaw tightened and his eyes went flat. "You went through my things."
"You staged a rogue attack to make me owe you a life debt," I said quietly. "I think we are past discussing boundaries."
He opened his mouth. Closed it. Opened it again. "That was—"
"Genius, really," I cut in. "A sixteen-year-old girl whose wolf just presented, terrified and grateful, watching you bleed for her. Of course I would spend the next four years convincing myself you were worth waiting for. Of course I would ignore every cold silence, every canceled plan, every moment you looked at me like I was a stranger. Because you saved my life, Dominic. And I am my father's daughter. I pay my debts."
His hands curled into fists at his sides. "It was not all—"
"Do not," I said, and this time my voice dropped low enough that he actually took a step back. "Do not stand in my house and tell me some of it was real. Do not insult me twice."
The air between us felt thin.
I reached into the pocket of my dress and pulled out the ceremonial mating cuff — the silver band he was supposed to place on my wrist during the marking. I had found it in the box of gifts his family sent over two weeks ago. It was engraved with both our names.
I threw it at his feet.
It hit the stone floor with a sharp metallic ring that echoed through the hall.
"I, Elodie Willis, daughter of Alpha Gerald of the Silverfang Pack," I said clearly, "accept your rejection, Dominic West."
The bond snapped.
It was different this time. The first break had been violent, a tearing. This one was clean. Surgical. I felt the last thread between us sever with an audible sound — not loud, but present, like a string breaking on an instrument — and every wolf in the pack house with their link open flinched in unison.
Inside me, Ivy went silent.
Dominic staggered. His hand flew to his chest and his breath came out harsh and fast. He looked at me like I had just stabbed him.
I felt nothing.
"Leave," I said.
He did not move.
I reached for the pack link and opened it wide. Every wolf in Silverfang heard my voice in their heads at once.
*All alliances with the Ironridge Pack are severed, effective immediately. Trade routes, territorial agreements, and council seats are void. Any Ironridge wolf found on Silverfang land without explicit permission will be removed as a trespasser.*
The link flooded with confusion, shock, my father's sharp *Elodie, what are you—*
I closed it.
"Get out of my house," I told Dominic. "Before I have you dragged out."
He stared at me for five more seconds. Then he bent, picked up the cuff, and walked toward the door.
He stopped in the doorway. His back was to me.
"You will regret this," he said quietly.
I smiled, though he could not see it. "No," I said. "I really will not."
He left.
I stood in the receiving hall alone for a long time after, staring at the place where the cuff had landed. Then I went upstairs, packed a single bag, and called my aunt in Colorado.
She answered on the second ring.
"I need to leave," I said.
"Then come," she replied, and hung up.
I boarded the flight that evening. I did not tell my father where I was going. I did not say goodbye to Arlo. I left a note on my desk that said only: *I will be back when I am ready.*
As the plane lifted off, I looked out the window at Silverfang territory shrinking below me — the forests, the pack house, the ceremonial platform where I had knelt three days ago.
I did not cry.
I closed my eyes, and for the first time since the rejection, I felt Ivy stir.
*Good,* she whispered. *Now we can begin.*
