Isla POV:
Five days.
That was all that remained before the date everyone else called a wedding, and I called an execution of my past.
I dressed in black. It was a sharp, tailored suit that hugged my frame, contrasting starkly with the white lab coat everyone was used to seeing me in. Today, I wasn't a Healer. I was a woman severing a limb to save her life.
The Council Chamber was a cavernous room filled with the scent of old parchment and older wolves. The twelve Elders sat around a circular mahogany table. They were the keepers of tradition, men who believed a female's place was silent and by her Alpha's side.
I walked to the center of the room. I didn't bow.
"I am formally withdrawing my application for the Luna bonding ceremony," I said, sliding a thick envelope across the polished wood.
The room erupted in murmurs. Elder Marcus, a man with grey fur sprouting from his ears, slammed his hand down.
"You cannot withdraw, child. The invitations are sent. The alliances are set. Alpha Damien needs a Luna to stabilize the pack energy."
"Then let him bond with the mother of his child," I said, my voice steady. "My wolf refuses him."
"Your wolf is weak," Marcus sneered. "Everyone knows your spirit is damaged. You are lucky Damien still honors the arrangement. Do not be ungrateful."
Ungrateful. The word tasted like bile. I had given my life essence to save their Alpha, and they called me ungrateful.
"It is not a request," I said, turning on my heel. "It is a notification."
I walked out before they could respond. My heart hammered against my ribs, not from fear, but from the adrenaline of defiance.
I returned to the apartment building. The elevator doors pinged open in the lobby, and my stomach dropped.
Damien and Seraphina were inside.
They had returned early from the mountains. Seraphina was glowing, her skin flushed with health-or perhaps just the satisfaction of feeding off my mate's energy. Damien looked relaxed, his arm draped protectively around her shoulders.
"Isla," Damien said, surprised. He looked at my black suit. "You look... severe."
"I had a meeting," I said, stepping into the metal box. The air instantly became suffocating.
The scent was overwhelming. It was a thick, cloying mix of Damien's ozone and Seraphina's lilies. It coated my tongue. My inner wolf, usually docile, growled low in my throat.
"We missed you at the lodge," Seraphina chirped, leaning her head on Damien's bicep. "Damien caught a deer in his wolf form. It was so primal."
I stared at the floor numbers changing. 10... 11... 12...
"You should come for dinner tonight," Seraphina added. "To celebrate our return. The chef is making Heartleaf Soup."
I stiffened. Heartleaf was a sacred herb. In our culture, it was used to strengthen the bond between a mated pair. It was an aphrodisiac, but also a spiritual binder.
"I have work," I said.
"Nonsense," Damien said, his voice carrying that edge of command. "You look pale. You need nourishment. Come. That is an order."
An order. He was using his Alpha authority to force me to play happy family.
An hour later, I sat at the long dining table. The apartment felt alien now that my things were gone, though Damien hadn't seemed to notice the missing books or the empty shelves yet.
The maid placed a steaming bowl of green soup in front of me. The smell was pungent.
"Eat," Damien said, spooning some into his own mouth. "It's good for the blood."
I picked up my spoon. My hand trembled slightly. I forced a swallow.
The reaction was instant.
As soon as the liquid hit my stomach, my body revolted. Heartleaf only nourished those who were in a true, accepted bond. To a wolf whose bond was rejected or broken, it was poison.
I gagged. I clamped a hand over my mouth, pushing my chair back. The screech of wood against the floor was deafening.
"Isla?" Damien asked, frowning.
I ran to the guest bathroom. I fell to my knees and retched, my body purging the soup violently. It felt like I was vomiting up hot coals.
Damien appeared in the doorway. "Isla! What is wrong?"
I flushed the toilet and leaned back against the cold tiles, wiping my mouth. "I told you. I'm not hungry."
He knelt beside me. He reached out to touch my forehead, but I flinched away.
"You are rejecting the nutrient," he muttered, confused. "That only happens if..." He trailed off. He couldn't finish the thought. It was impossible for him to conceive that our bond was already dead.
"I'm just stressed," I rasped. "The wedding."
"Yes," he said, visibly relieved by the excuse. "Nerves. Seraphina was nervous too, before..." He stopped, realizing he was comparing his mistress to his mate.
My pocket vibrated.
I stood up, shaky. "I need to rest."
I walked to the balcony-my barren, empty balcony. I answered the phone, keeping my voice to a whisper.
"Is the flight confirmed?"
"Yes, Healer Isla," the Guild secretary's voice came through. "Tomorrow, 3:00 PM. Private hangar."
"Good," I whispered. "The ceremony is canceled. I am leaving."
"Who are you talking to?"
I spun around. Damien was standing right behind me. His Alpha hearing was sharp; I had been careless.
My heart stopped. If he knew I was leaving, he would lock me in the dungeon. An Alpha never let his property escape.
"A patient," I lied, my heart rate spiking. "She's... in labor. Complications."
Damien studied my face. His eyes narrowed, scanning me for deceit. He sniffed the air, smelling the spike of fear in my scent.
"You are lying," he said softly. "Your heart is racing."
"Because you scared me," I snapped, channeling my fear into anger. "Creeping up on me like a predator."
He stared at me for a long moment. Then, he stepped back.
"Go to bed, Isla. You are hysterical. We will discuss your attitude in the morning."
He turned and walked back inside to Seraphina.
I let out a breath, my knees shaking.
Four days. Just four days.
