Seraphina Thorne POV:
The assembly dissolved into a storm of hushed, urgent whispers. Back in the guest chambers of the Blackwood Packhouse, my father paced the floor, his face a mask of cold fury. The insult to our family, the threat to my life—it was more than he could bear.
My mother sat beside me, her hand gripping mine tightly. "Sera, you were so brave. But you shouldn't have had to endure that."
I shook my head, my resolve hardening into something sharp and unbreakable. "No, Mother. It was necessary. I will not allow a woman with no honor to threaten our family's name."
My father stopped pacing. He looked at me, truly looked at me, and saw not the fragile girl of a few days ago, but a future leader. "What is it you want to do?" he asked, his voice a low rumble. "Whatever it is, I will back you."
I took a deep breath, the words feeling like a liberation on my tongue. "Rejection. I want a formal Rejection Ceremony."
My parents exchanged a look. It was a drastic, painful step, but I saw not shock in their eyes, but relief. They had tolerated my infatuation with Ryker for my sake, but they had never approved. Now that I was the one choosing to end it, they were free to act.
"Good," my father said, his voice firm. "I will inform the Blackwood elders immediately. It will be done tomorrow, at the Moonstone."
Meanwhile, in his own chambers, Ryker was trying to soothe a still-sobbing Lilith, but his mind was elsewhere. He couldn't shake the image of Seraphina, standing tall and regal, speaking the Old Tongue with an fluency that shamed him. He couldn't ignore the look of doubt on the elders' faces.
For the first time, a hairline crack appeared in his certainty. Was it possible Lilith wasn't as perfect as she seemed? Was it possible Seraphina wasn't simply mad with jealousy?
His pride, a stubborn and powerful beast, refused to let him entertain the thought. He had made his choice. He couldn't be wrong. It had to be Seraphina's fault.
A knock at the door interrupted his thoughts. A pack elder entered, his face grim. "The Thorne family has formally requested a Rejection Ceremony," the old wolf announced. "Tomorrow, at dawn."
Ryker froze. He had assumed, if it ever came to this, that he would be the one to perform the rejection. That she was the one initiating it… it was a public, humiliating slap in the face. A wave of fury, hot and suffocating, washed over him. This was another one of her games. It had to be.
He stormed out of the room, ignoring Lilith's calls, and stalked through the corridors toward my chambers.
I had just opened my door, ready to seek the solace of sleep, when I found him standing there, his powerful frame blocking the hallway, his eyes wild and bloodshot.
He grabbed my wrist, his grip painfully tight, and slammed me back against the wall. The impact jarred my teeth. "What is this, Seraphina?" he snarled, his face inches from mine. "A Rejection Ceremony? Do you really think this pathetic little drama is going to get my attention?"
He still believed this was all for him. The arrogance was breathtaking. His self-absorption was so complete he couldn't conceive of a world where he wasn't the center. He smelled of Lilith’s cloying, sweet scent, and it turned my stomach.
"Let go of me," I said, my voice dangerously quiet.
His grip tightened. "You've loved me for years," he growled, a desperate edge to his voice. "You can't just turn it off like a switch. I don't believe you."
He leaned closer, searching my eyes for the old adoration, the familiar spark of devotion. But all he found was a cold, empty void.
A laugh escaped my lips, a sound devoid of any humor. "Love? Ryker, you have no idea what you've destroyed. I'm not trying to get your attention. I'm taking my life back."
I twisted my wrist, channeling the nascent strength of my Alpha blood. To his utter shock, my hand broke free from his grasp. He stared at his empty hand, then back at me, his mouth slightly agape.
I calmly smoothed the fabric of my sleeve, my gaze as cool and distant as if I were looking at a stranger. "Don't come near me again, future Alpha Blackwood. After tomorrow, the only thing between us will be the ghosts of what you threw away."
His face contorted, the confusion warring with a pain he didn't yet understand. "Fine," he bit out, his voice raw. "We'll see what kind of future a wolfless nobody like you can have without me."
I didn't grace him with a response. I simply stepped back into my room and shut the door in his face.
On the other side, I heard him gasp, a sharp, ragged sound. He clutched his chest, a searing pain lancing through him from the damaged mate bond. It was a pain that had been a dull ache for days, but now, it was a sharp, stabbing agony. He didn't know that as my own wolf grew stronger, the tearing of our bond grew more painful for the one who had initiated the break.
He stumbled back to his room, the pain in his chest a terrifying, inexplicable fire, his mind a whirlwind of rage and a new, unfamiliar emotion: fear.
"You will regret this, Seraphina," he roared to the empty room, clutching his heart. "You will come crawling back to me!"
