I didn’t say a word. I simply placed the severance scroll...the dissolution of our mate bond...into his hand.
Jareth accepted it with a soft smile, wolf-golden eyes filled with a sickeningly gentle facade.
“Eirene… what is this?” he asked again.
He was about to unroll it when his crystal communicator chimed. He tried to hide the glowing rune on the surface, but I clearly saw the name etched across the light:
[My Moon]
I stood right there. I didn’t need a seer to tell me who was calling.
If I hadn’t uncovered the truth, I might’ve snatched the communicator and demanded answers like a naive, jealous mate.
But now, I remained perfectly calm and tugged lightly at his sleeve. “Place your mark on it before you go.”
His brows tightened. The false warmth in his eyes faded, replaced by reprimand.
Yet he still attempted that coaxing tone. “Eirene, I have matters to attend to. I’ll sign it once I return, alright?”
I didn’t move aside. I blocked the doorway, silent and solid as a stone guardian.
Eventually, irritation twisted his brow so hard it looked painful. Without even reading the scroll, he slashed his signature across it in a single stroke.
Before leaving, he glanced back coldly. “You’ve been absurd lately, Eirene. I won’t be returning to the den tonight.”
I only nodded, watching him vanish down the corridor.
Not long after, messages from Lucienne flooded into my crystal device.
The she-wolf got my rune frequency as soon as she returned to Ashenwood and started sending me images of her and Jareth together.
Them locked in a heated kiss beneath the lunar tide. Running hand in hand across sunlit cliffs.
Attending gatherings like a flawless, radiant pair.
At first, I thought she was some delusional imposter. Yet for reasons I didn’t understand, I never blocked her.
Only after the ambush did I realize every image was real.
Those countless nights when Jareth wasn’t at my side…he had been with her.
With that in mind, I saved each image...every vile piece of proof.
When he reached Lucienne, he swept her into his arms almost instantly. Image after image showed him gazing at her with the same tenderness that once belonged to me.
Then, unlike before, Lucienne began sending actual messages.
When I opened them, my blood iced over.
[If I hadn’t stepped away back then, you never would’ve laid a finger on Jareth. Now that I’ve returned, walk away while you still can. Otherwise, I’ll take even more from you.]
[And did you enjoy the gift I sent last time? Your parents’ deaths… and that pathetic unborn pup. My little welcome offering. If you refuse to leave, I’ll make sure you join them.]
As I stared at her words, I could practically hear her venomous voice, see the smug curl of her lips.
And all of it...every ounce of her daring cruelty...was power Jareth allowed her to wield.
I gripped my communicator so tightly the crystal nearly cracked, wishing it were their throats in my hands instead.
That night, Jareth never returned to our den.
