“Elder,I wish to sever my soul-bond with my mate,Myron Lestrange,”Savina said,standing before the Moon Council’s stone desk.“And I demand a compulsory judgment of exile.”
She placed their bonding sigil and two name-stones upon the table.
The council scribe lifted her head,her silver eyes glinting in surprise.
“Savina of the Nichols bloodline?”she asked uncertainly.“You’re the she-wolf accused of madness by the healer’s circle last moon…the one who charged the Moon Healer with malpractice?”
At once,Savina’s hand clenched into a trembling fist.Her gaze snapped up,eyes flashing with the fury of a wounded beast.
The scribe quickly dropped her eyes and stammered an apology before continuing in a neutral tone.
“My lady,your right to dwell within the Silver Plains was granted through your bond to Lord Myron.If you break that bond,you will lose your claim to this territory and be cast out by the next moon.”
Savina laughed bitterly,her voice sharp as a claw.“I know.But don’t trouble yourselves.The guards won’t need to drive me out—I’ll leave on my own.”
Three moons ago,their cub had fallen ill—his blood had turned dark,his body too weak to heal.Only a blood-soul transfusion could save him.
Yet,on the night of the ceremony,as the healers drew their knives and the cub lay on the altar of life,the chief healer suddenly stepped back.
“I cannot,”she declared coldly.“To lower myself to such crude sorcery would stain my hands.”
Because of her refusal,their cub’s breath faltered.He survived,but he could no longer walk.His spirit was half-trapped between life and death.
Savina had accused the healer—Helene Hester—before the Moon Tribunal.Victory was within reach when Myron himself locked her inside their den.
Standing over her,his tone colder than frost,he said,“I’ve withdrawn the charge.Record a public apology.In return,I’ll summon the best healers from the East to treat our son.”
“If you refuse,”he warned,“I’ll show the Council your madness decree.You’ll never see our cub again.”
She couldn’t comprehend it.They were a family.How could he side with an outsider—against his own blood?
Holding back her rage,Savina lifted her chin.“She crippled our son.She should answer to the Goddess for that!”
Myron frowned,impatient.A moment later,he held up a scroll—the madness decree,already sealed with his crest—and flung it into the pack square for all to see.
Within hours,the clans whispered:Savina,the deranged mate.
Once,Myron would have torn out the throat of anyone who dared mock her.
Now,he stood beside her enemy,helping destroy her.
“Will you apologize or not?”he demanded.
Savina’s claws dug into her palm until blood dripped onto the pale furs,staining them red.
“Myron,”she cried,“after seven years bound by the Moon’s vow,this is how you treat me?”
For a heartbeat,doubt flickered in his eyes.But then it vanished.
He pulled out their cub’s carved likeness and showed it to her.
“I’ll give you one last chance,”he said.“If you truly don’t care for our son,then defy me again.”
The next instant,a vision stone flared to life—showing their cub on his sickbed,his air rune being removed,one by one.
Savina’s voice cracked.“No!Don’t hurt him!I’ll do it—I’ll say what you want!”
And so,when Myron left with the recording of her“apology,”he didn’t even glance back.
Before he could reach the door,Savina grabbed his cloak.“Myron…who is Helene to you?”
His answer fell like thunder.“My first mate.”
It was as if the Goddess herself had frozen her blood.Now she understood why he had defended Helene,why he had ruined her for her.Helene wasn’t just a healer—she was the one he had loved before Savina.
When they met,Myron had been nothing but a broken wolf,abandoned by that same woman for being low-born and powerless.Savina had been the one who stayed,the one who helped him rise from ruin.
She had believed seven years of devotion could thaw his heart.She was wrong.
When the truth finally shattered the last illusion,she didn’t scream or weep.Her calm frightened even herself.
That was how she managed to steal his crest-mark and come to the Moon Council to demand the severing of their bond.
The scribe finally returned her sigils.“Once the one-moon purification ends,”she said,“your bond will be dissolved.”
Savina nodded faintly,then looked down at the torn sigil—their binding mark—and ripped it clean in half.
Love that had rotted,and the wolf who had fouled it—both deserved to burn.
Just as she stepped out of the Moon Hall,a messenger hawk landed beside her with a sealed rune.It carried a message from the trade guild.
“Lady Savina,”the voice rune said,“Lord Lestrange has signed your resignation scroll.But it seems he doesn’t realize it was you who filed it.Shall we tell him?”
“That won’t be necessary,”she replied,her tone quiet but edged.“He’ll know soon enough.”
When the purification moon ends—he’ll know everything.
Even on the night of their cub’s ceremony,Savina had already wanted to sever the bond.But Myron refused,threatening to send their son to the Northern Sanctum.
If he could be that heartless,then she would not hesitate to take her son and leave.
After the council’s decree,Savina returned to the trading hall to finish her handover.
She had followed Myron from his days as a nameless rogue to the Alpha of the Ironfang Hold.
She’d sacrificed her own contracts with the merchant clans to stand beside him.
Looking back now,that devotion felt like a cruel joke.
She was nearly done packing when Myron appeared.
Seeing the scrolls in her hands,his brows furrowed—but he forced a gentle tone.
“You’ve been unwell lately.Take a rest for a while,”he murmured.
Then,casually,“Don’t wait for me at the den tonight.I’m escorting Helene.”
For five years,that horse beside him had been hers.Now,it carried another woman.
Looking at the wolf she had loved for seven years,Savina felt a hollow ache.
“Myron,”she asked softly,“will you truly ignore what she did to our cub?”
His gaze lowered.“What’s done is done,Savina.You can’t drag the living to the grave for the dead.That’s not fair.”
Her vision burned.
“Fair?”she echoed.“Was it fair when you branded me mad to protect her?
Was it fair when you traded justice for our cub’s life—just to shield your first love?
And me?I walked through every storm beside you,and now you bring her home to our den.Tell me,Myron—where’s the fairness in that?”
Her voice rose,echoing through the hall.Wolves outside stopped to listen.
Myron’s eyes darkened.He seized her wrist harshly.
“Enough,”he growled.“You want to challenge me,do it in private.Don’t shame yourself here.”
He flung her aside.She hit the edge of the stone table,her head bursting with pain.
He reached to steady her,but before he could,Helene entered and threw herself into his arms.
“Oh,Myron,”she purred,“I lost my footing.Forgive me.”
Instantly,his anger vanished.“It’s fine,”he said softly.“I’ll have the servants brew your favorite draught tonight.”
They flirted openly,right before Savina’s eyes.
Biting through the pain,she rose,gripping the table for balance,and turned to leave.
But as she passed,Helene blocked her path with a bright smile.
“I came to offer you something,Savina,”she said sweetly.“A banner of honor.”
“I’m sorry about your cub.To make amends,I’ve enrolled him in a special healer’s trial.Our circle is testing a new elixir that may restore movement to the crippled.He’s already been taken to the healer caves.It’s…a great service to the pack.”
Her smile widened.“Your son brings glory to his mother—even in his condition.”
Then she handed Savina a silk banner embroidered with gold runes.“This is from the healer circle.Their way of thanking you.”
Savina’s tears broke free.Her precious cub—paralyzed,suffering—had become Helene’s experiment.
“Wretch!”she roared,striking at her.
But before her hand could reach Helene,Myron caught her wrist.
“That’s enough!”he snapped.“Helene came with goodwill,and you repay her with this madness?”
His voice was sharp as a lash.“Continue this,and I will dissolve our bond myself!”
He turned away,wrapping his arm protectively around Helene’s shoulders.
Watching them leave,Savina crumpled to the floor,sobbing until her breath came in shallow gasps.
When the tears finally ran dry,she pushed herself up,numb and pale.
She climbed to the roof of the trading hall and summoned a spirit raven.
“Dike,”she whispered to the wind,“you once promised me—if ever I became unbound,you’d claim me,with a dowry worth two million moon-stones.”
“Well,one moon from now,I’ll be free,”she said,her voice cold and clear.“Are you still keeping that promise?”
