Haven POV:
The house was empty.
Connor had taken every warrior, every guard, every tracker to hunt for his "kidnapped" mistress. He left the Pack House undefended. He left me unguarded.
It was almost insulting how easy it was.
I stood in the center of the living room. This was the heart of the Apex Pack. The walls were covered in history—paintings of past Alphas, tapestries woven by Lunas centuries ago.
I held a lighter in my hand.
My phone buzzed. It was Sterling. The transfer is complete. The funds are in your offshore account. You are no longer a shareholder of Apex Dynamics. You are a free agent.
"Good," I whispered.
I walked over to the fireplace. On the mantle sat a crystal vase, a gift from the Alpha of the Northern territories on our wedding day. It was filled with dried lavender.
I smashed it on the floor. The sound of breaking glass was music.
I went to the kitchen and retrieved the bottles of high-proof alcohol I had set aside. Vodka. Whiskey. Brandy.
I poured them over the rug. I splashed them onto the velvet curtains. The smell of ethanol filled the air, sharp and stinging.
I walked to the small table by the door. I placed a black velvet box there. Inside was the positive pregnancy test and the ultrasound photo of the tiny, bean-sized life that was no more.
No. Not here. The fire would consume it, and he needed to see it.
"Martha," I Mind-Linked the head Omega. I need you. Come to the back garden. Discreetly.
I met her by the old stone greenhouse, a structure safe from the coming inferno. I handed her the box.
"Give this to him," I said, pressing it into her trembling hands. "Not now. When he stands in the ashes. Give it to him then."
Martha looked at the box, then at the house reeking of gasoline. She nodded, tears streaming down her face. "I will, Luna. Run. Run far."
I returned to the foyer.
I stood by the front door. I struck the lighter. The flame danced, small and yellow.
"I release you, Connor Jones," I said to the empty room. "I release the bond. I release the love. I release the pain."
I dropped the lighter onto the alcohol-soaked rug.
The fire didn't start slowly. It whooshed into existence, a hungry beast waking up. Blue and orange flames licked up the curtains, devouring the silk. The heat hit my face instantly.
I threw our wedding album into the center of the inferno. I watched the leather cover curl and blacken. I watched my own smiling face from three years ago melt away.
Smoke began to fill the high ceilings. The fire alarm started to wail, a shrill scream that matched the one inside my soul.
I picked up my suitcase.
I walked out the front door, leaving it wide open to feed the fire with oxygen.
I walked down the long driveway. I didn't look back. Behind me, the roar of the fire grew louder, consuming the lies, the betrayal, and the memories.
I felt a strange sensation in my chest. A flutter. Not a heart palpitation.
Good, Seraphina purred in my mind. Her voice was stronger than it had been in days. Let it burn. From the ashes, we rise.
My skin tingled. The dormant blood in my veins, the blood of the White Wolf, began to hum.
