The air in the Pack infirmary’s main hall was thick with the scent of pine and cinnamon, masking the usual antiseptic smell.
Julian stood near a large ice sculpture carved into the shape of a leaping wolf, raising a glass of sparkling cider near a huge cake he had personally customised for Liam's big day.
Laughter and relieved chatter bounced off the vaulted ceiling. He felt a surge of warmth, a potent mix of pride and relief.
Liam, pale but smiling, was the star of the show, sitting on a cushioned chair beside Elara, who radiated subdued triumph.
She whispered something into Liam's ears before she walked straight to Julian's side. Wrapping her hands around his arms as if he belonged to her, she asked, her voice soft and laced with anticipated.
"Let's cut the cake. Liam is so excited to officially call you Dad."
"Just a moment, Elara." He replied, gently pushing her hands off his arms, "Bella will be arriving soon. Let's wait for her."
He checked his watch again, a heavy gold band catching the light.
Where was Bella?
A thought bugging his mind for quite a while, became dominant over his excitement once again.
She's taking her time getting ready, he thought, adjusting his tailored tunic. She’ll be here soon. She just needs this distraction. She’s grieving, of course, but that’s done now. We need to focus on the future—on Liam.
He thought, shutting the fear off his heart that had been taking place earlier.
He had given Bella the courtesy of mourning, the space she needed. His absence at the grave was regrettable, perhaps, but entirely justified.
Once she arrived, he would put a reassuring arm around her and publicly declare Liam their son. It would be a beautiful, unifying moment.
His smile faltered slightly as he scanned the room again. He needed her here. Without her, the picture felt incomplete, unbalanced.
Just then his Alpha ear sensed a slight movement at the door and his heart raced with excitement and anticipation.
It must be Bella.
She has arrived. Finally!
Just as he was about to move toward the door, a sudden silence fell over a small cluster of Pack members near the entrance.
A tall, impeccably dressed man, completely unfamiliar to Julian, stood rigid in the doorway, holding a small, silver-wrapped gift box. Julian recognized the man as one of Bella’s most trusted household staff.
The servant didn't look for Julian; he simply waited until Julian's gaze landed on him. Then, he moved with economical steps through the crowd, parting the laughing bodies like water.
Elara nudged Julian’s arm, her eyes wide with curiosity, but he barely registered her touch.
The servant stopped precisely three feet in front of Julian and bowed stiffly.
"Alpha Julian," the man intoned, his voice cutting through the remaining chatter, "Luna Bella instructed me to deliver this." He held out the silver box.
Julian took the box, a slight frown creasing his brow. "Thank you. Where is she? Tell her the party has started."
The servant's expression did not change. "Luna Bella sends her regrets. She cannot attend your ‘Celebration.’"
Julian's hand tightened around the box. "Cannot? Why? I told her it would be good for her to get out—"
"She is still mourning your dead son, Alpha," the servant finished, his tone devoid of warmth. The bluntness of the statement was a slap in the face. The hall, now fully silent, felt suddenly cold.
Julian forced a patronizing chuckle. "Yes, of course. Well, I appreciate the thought. What is this, then?" he asked, indicating the parcel.
"Her blessings to Liam and his mother," the man replied, his gaze flicking briefly, dismissively, toward Elara. "She said they would surely like the gift."
Julian dismissed the servant with a nod, turning his back on the messenger and forcing a bright smile for the onlookers. "See, Elara? She’s sending her support. She just needs a little more time."
He held the box up, shaking it gently. "Let's see what treasure Bella sends to cheer up our recovered son."
He ripped the silver paper cleanly. Beneath it was a plain wooden box. Julian flipped the lid open, his expression ready for a playful reveal—a drawing, a note, a piece of jewelry.
Instead, the world tilted, and the festive pine scent was replaced by the sudden, sickening odor of ozone and absence.
Nestled on a bed of dark velvet lay two items.
The first was their wedding band, the heavy gold ring he had placed on her finger years ago. It was polished, immaculate, and utterly severed from her.
The second item stole the breath from his lungs. It was a strand of silver, no thicker than a thread, coiled neatly beside the ring.
But Julian didn’t need to touch it to know what it was. It was the physical, crystalline filament of their mate bond—the one she had warned she would cut if he ever betrayed her.
It was severed cleanly at both ends, a literal piece of his soul connection now lying inert in a wooden box.
The chatter in the room remained suspended, watching him. He could feel Elara’s anxious grip on his arm. But all Julian heard was a deafening roar in his ears, a sound like a distant, massive wave crashing down.
He looked down at the severed thread, then up at the spot where the servant had stood. The man was gone.
The only thing remained was the snickers and whispers of the onlookers who dared not mutter their disdain earlier.
But, now that their Luna slapped the Alpha on his face by breaking the mate bond, and by finally leaving him, they couldn't help mocking a man who had abandoned his own family to save someone else.
"I heard he left Luna alone when surrounded by the rogue wolves to rush to meet his childhood sweetheart. Poor Luna, she had to witness her husband's infidelity at the worst possible time."
"You are right. I was there at the Pack's infirmary when he left Luna again when she had just lost her unborn baby."
"I can't even imagine her loss. Desperately trying to save her son while keeping another protected in her womb. How terrifying!"
"Wh-What did you say?" Julian's voice trembled, "P-Pregnant? Bella was pregnant?"
