Dante POV:
Two weeks.
I walked into the mansion expecting the usual: scent of vanilla, quiet submission, maybe dinner.
Instead, the place smelled like floor wax and dust. Stale.
"Elara?"
Silence.
"Elara!"
I hit the Mind-Link. *Elara, where are you?*
Nothing. Like dialing a number that’s been disconnected.
Panic, cold and sharp, spiked in my chest. I took the stairs two at a time. Bedroom door—bam.
Bed made. Closet open. The fancy gala dresses were there. But the drawers? The ones with her paint-stained sweaters? Empty.
My eyes snapped to the nightstand.
The necklace. The ring. And a sketchbook.
I picked up the ring. The tracking spell was dead. Cold metal.
I opened the book. The drawing hit me like a punch. A lonely wolf. Despair in every charcoal stroke. Turn the page. Me, back turned, my shadow swallowing her whole.
"Sir?"
I spun. Henderson, the pack lawyer, stood in the doorway, looking pale. Isabella was behind him, looking annoyed.
"What?" I snarled.
"The... the paperwork, Alpha," Henderson stammered. "The filing completed this morning."
"What paperwork?"
"The Severance Bond, Sir."
The world tilted. The blue folder. The 'insurance' papers. The sting in my chest.
"She tricked me," I whispered. The absurdity of it. The quiet little Omega played me.
"She’s gone, Dante," Isabella scoffed, picking up the ring. "Good riddance. She was weak. Now we can find a real Luna."
*Weak?*
My wolf snapped.
I didn't shift, but the monster took the wheel. My eyes went pitch black. A roar tore out of my throat, shattering the windows.
"GET OUT!"
The Alpha Command hit them like a shockwave. Isabella dropped the ring, falling to her knees, gasping. Henderson scrambled back.
"OUT!"
They ran.
I was alone. I squeezed the platinum ring until it twisted into scrap.
The hole in my chest wasn't just silence. It was a crater.
I looked around. Billions in the bank. An army of wolves.
And I didn't own a damn thing.
She was gone. And she took the light with her.
*
