The door slammed behind me as I stumbled into the cold night, the stone walls of the pack hall still vibrating with laughter and music, as though nothing had shattered. As though my entire world hadn’t just burned to ash.
The silver ring no longer weighed on my finger, but its absence throbbed like a phantom wound. My hand felt raw, stripped bare, like a piece of myself had been torn away.
I walked blindly through the forest, following familiar paths until the pack’s fortress was just a shadow against the moonlit horizon. My legs carried me to the cottage on the outskirts of Silverfang territory—the place Lucien had once brought me when we were newly mated. Back then, it had felt like a sanctuary, a nest for our future. Now the ivy-choked beams and sagging roof mocked me with the ghosts of promises never meant to be kept.
Inside, the air was stale with dust, the hearth long cold. I ran my fingers along the wooden table where he had once kissed me, where I had once whispered dreams of pups and peace. My chest ached so violently that I pressed my palm against it, as if I could hold the pieces of my heart together.
But Selene’s voice followed me still, sharp and cruel.
He says you are too tame. Too dull. Too barren.
He marked me while I wore the gown he gifted to you.
“Stop,” I whispered, clutching my head, but the memories clung to me like tar.
My stomach cramped. Hunger gnawed at me, and I realized I hadn’t eaten since the morning. The pups stirred restlessly, reminding me of the lives that still clung to me, fragile but fierce.
“For you,” I murmured, forcing my limbs to move. I opened the small cupboard and pulled out stale bread, dried fruit, a bit of smoked venison. My hands shook as I forced myself to eat, every bite heavy as stone. Each time I swallowed, I whispered an apology. “Forgive me, little ones. Your mother has nothing left to give but this.”
When the food was gone, I lit a single candle. Its flame flickered weakly, casting shadows that seemed to jeer at me. My mind raced. I couldn’t survive like this. If I stayed, Lucien would destroy me piece by piece. And worse—he would destroy them.
No. Not anymore.
I opened the drawer where I had hidden the communication stone, its runes faint but steady. My grandmother had pressed it into my hands years ago, urging me to keep it for emergencies. I whispered the name of the only person I still trusted.
The stone pulsed, and a warm, steady voice answered. “Liora?”
Lyra. My old colleague, a wolf-lawyer who had once fought for the weak in pack courts.
Tears blurred my eyes. “I need… a separation contract. Tonight.”
There was silence, then a sharp inhale. “You’ve finally decided?”
My throat ached, but I forced the words out. “Yes.”
“I’ll draft it within hours,” she said firmly. “You’ll need to sign it in blood to make it binding under pack law. Do you want to claim custody?”
I pressed both hands to my belly, my pups shifting within. “Yes. They’re mine. He doesn’t deserve them.”
Her voice softened. “Stay strong. I’ll send a raven before dawn.”
When the connection faded, I collapsed onto the table, sobbing into my arms until the candle sputtered low.
---
By dawn, the raven arrived. Its black feathers gleamed in the pale light as it tapped at the window. Tied to its leg was a sealed envelope marked with Lyra’s crest.
My hands trembled as I broke it open, unrolling the parchment. The runes glowed faintly: Severance of Mating Bond. Custody of heirs. Division of property.
My chest tightened as I pricked my finger with a pin. A bead of blood welled, and I pressed it to the parchment. The runes flared, binding.
It was real. The bond was severed in law.
Tears streamed silently down my cheeks as I cradled my stomach. “We’re free,” I whispered. “I’ll protect you. I promise.”
---
At noon, boots thundered against the wooden steps. My blood ran cold.
Lucien filled the doorway, tall and commanding, his presence overwhelming the small cottage. He carried a bouquet of white moonlilies, their petals glowing faintly with lunar magic. Once, I would have wept at such a gift. Now they felt like mockery.
“Liora,” he said smoothly, his lips curving into a smile he had once reserved for me alone. “I came to make peace. Last night was… unworthy of us both.”
I accepted the bouquet in silence and set it aside without water. His smile faltered.
“You embarrassed me,” he said, his tone hardening though he still tried to coat it in charm. “You’ll apologize to Selene and the others. You’ll prepare a feast to show your remorse. That will settle it.”
My lips trembled. “I apologize,” I whispered.
He blinked, startled, as though he hadn’t expected me to yield so easily.
“I apologize,” I repeated, my voice breaking, “for forgetting my place.”
His golden eyes softened, confusion flickering. He mistook my words for surrender, when in truth they were farewell.
I turned to the kitchen, moving automatically, preparing his favorite dishes—the same ones I had made a hundred times. Venison stew, rich with herbs. Honeyed bread baked golden. Elderberry wine chilled with river stones.
When I set the table, his pride swelled. He ate heartily, his voice almost tender.
“This is why I chose you,” he said. “You’re obedient. Loyal. You know your duty. After you apologize, everything will return to normal.”
I forced a smile, hollow and brittle, as I raised a spoonful of stew to my lips.
But deep inside, my wolf howled.
He truly believed I would stay. He truly believed his chains were unbreakable.
But my blood had already sealed my escape.
This was not our meal.
This was our last supper.
