The wind stirred through the trees, carrying the scent of damp earth and pine as I followed Asher through the darkened forest. My steps were steady, but inside, I was unraveling. Every breath felt heavier, every thought louder. I had done it—I had walked away from Magnus. But instead of feeling victorious, a strange hollowness settled in my chest.
I clutched the cloak wrapped around my shoulders, my fingers digging into the fabric. I had told myself I wouldn’t look back, but my mind replayed the moment over and over. When the Crimson Pack had surrounded Magnus, I could have let them finish him. I could have stood there and watched, let them tear him apart the way he had torn me apart.
But I couldn't. Even after everything, I had told them to let him go.
The memory burned in my mind—the way Magnus had looked at me, his silver eyes unreadable as I made my choice. He had expected me to be cruel, to seek revenge. Instead, I had left him with nothing. Not mercy. Not forgiveness. Just silence.
"You did the right thing," Asher said beside me, his voice calm, as if he could hear my thoughts. "Killing him wouldn’t have changed anything."
I swallowed hard. "I don’t know what the right thing is anymore."
Asher didn’t respond, just kept walking. The Crimson Pack moved around us, their glowing red eyes flickering in the darkness. Some walked ahead, some trailed behind, but none spoke to me. I could feel their hesitation, their judgment. I was one of them by blood, but in their eyes, I had chosen Magnus over my own people.
And now, I was a traitor returning home.
By the time we reached the pack’s territory, the tension had thickened. The bonfire in the center of the village crackled, casting long shadows across the clearing. Faces emerged from the dark, some familiar, some unfamiliar, all watching me with unreadable expressions.
A figure stepped forward. Soren. I remember him from my childhood, one of the strongest warriors in the pack. His dark gaze settled on me, hard and unforgiving.
"You shouldn’t be here," he said.
My jaw clenched, but before I could speak, Asher stepped in front of me. "She’s here because I brought her."
Soren crossed his arms, unimpressed. "And why should we trust her now? She abandoned us. She chose him."
Murmurs spread through the pack. I could feel the weight of their resentment pressing down on me like a vice.
"I didn’t choose him," I said, forcing my voice to stay steady. "I was taken."
Soren let out a sharp laugh. "Taken? You were mated to him for years, Astrid. If you wanted to leave, you would have."
I opened my mouth, then shut it. He wasn’t wrong. For so long, I had convinced myself that Magnus loved me, that things would change. I ignored the signs, the betrayal unfolding right in front of me.
But I wouldn’t ignore it anymore.
"You can hate me all you want," I said, meeting Soren’s gaze. "But I’m not here to beg for your forgiveness. I came back because I have nowhere else to go."
Silence. The pack watched, waiting.
Then, a new voice cut through the air. "Then you stand before the Elders."
My stomach twisted as the crowd parted, revealing the three Elders of the Crimson Pack. Their eyes, old and knowing, bore into me as they motioned for me to step forward.
Asher gave me a small nod. "Go."
I swallowed hard and walked toward them.
Inside the Elders' cabin, the air was thick with the scent of burning herbs. The room was dim, lit only by a few flickering candles. The Elders sat in a row, their faces unreadable.
"You have returned," the eldest, Elira, said. "But not as the girl who left."
I forced myself to stand tall. "No."
"You were taken by the Shadow Pack," she continued. "Bound to their Alpha. And yet, you return now. Why?"
I hesitated. "Because I finally see the truth."
Elira exchanged glances with the others. "And what truth is that?"
"That I was never meant to be with Magnus," I said, my voice low. "That I was never his mate. I was just a pawn in his father’s plans."
The words felt bitter on my tongue, but they were true. I had spent years believing Magnus and I were fated. That our bond was real. But I had been wrong.
One of the Elders, a man with a scar across his cheek, nodded slowly. "Then you must reclaim your place. But it will not be given freely."
I clenched my fists. "I don’t expect it to be."
Elira leaned forward. "Then let us see if you can still fight for your pack."
The weight of their words settled over me, but before I could respond, a loud commotion erupted outside. The door burst open, and a young scout rushed in, his face pale.
"Alpha," he said, breathless, looking at Asher. "There's news from the border."
Asher tensed. "What is it?"
The scout hesitated, glancing at me before speaking. "Magnus is looking for her."
My stomach dropped.
"He’s gathering allies," the scout continued. "Rogues. Stragglers from other packs. He’s searching for Astrid. And from what we've heard... he's not coming to beg."
Silence filled the room. I felt my heart hammering against my ribs.
I had walked away. I had given him mercy. But Magnus wasn’t letting me go.
I reached for the necklace hanging around my neck, the one Magnus had given me long ago. For a moment, I held it between my fingers, feeling the weight of everything it represented.
Then, with steady hands, I pulled it off and threw it into the fire.
The flames swallowed it whole, and I whispered the words I should have said long ago.
"I'm not his anymore."
