Chapter 5

I left two things on his pillow.

The signed divorce papers.

And the ledger, open to the last page.

–1 point: He let our child die to spare her a scar.

Entry 100.

Final score: 0.

I didn't leave a note. The numbers said everything.

I'd researched the Moon Temple months ago—back when the ledger hit fifty and I first let myself imagine a life without him. The only place that could sever a mate bond completely. Painfully. Permanently.

I never thought I'd actually go.

Now I couldn't get there fast enough.

The drive took six hours. I watched Shadow Wolf territory disappear in the rearview mirror—familiar forests giving way to ancient redwoods that marked the boundary of neutral land.

No pack claimed this territory. No Alpha's law reached here.

Only the Moon Temple.

Only the old ways.

The temple rose from the mist like something out of a fever dream. White stone columns wrapped in silver vines. A dome that seemed to drink moonlight and breathe it back out. Even in daylight, the air hummed against my skin—ancient, alive, waiting.

My wolf stirred uneasily.

The bond, she whispered. It will hurt.

I know.

He's still our mate.

He was never our mate. Not really.

The guardian met me at the threshold. Elder Silas—hair white as bone, eyes the pale gold of a wolf who'd seen centuries pass. He moved like time meant nothing to him.

"You seek to sever a mate bond." His voice resonated against ancient stone. Not a question.

"Yes."

He studied me. His gaze lingered on my neck—on the mark Kain had left three years ago.

"This bond was sealed in blood and moon. Breaking it will feel like dying." A pause. "Many wolves do not survive the severing."

"I've already died once this week." My voice didn't waver. "I'm still here."

Something shifted in those ancient eyes.

"Follow me."

The inner chamber was carved entirely from moonstone—walls, floor, ceiling—all of it pulsing with soft silver light. In the center sat a shallow pool, its surface so still it looked like liquid glass.

"Kneel," Silas instructed.

I knelt at the edge. The stone bit cold through my dress. My wolf flinched.

"When the sacred water touches your mark, the severing begins." His voice dropped. "Do not fight it. Let it break clean. If you resist, you risk losing your wolf forever."

I nodded.

He dipped his fingers into the pool.

The water clung to his skin like mercury—heavy, unnatural, alive.

When it touched my forehead, cold burned straight through my skull.

When it reached the mark on my neck, silver light erupted from my skin.

The chamber shook. Dust rained from the ceiling. The pool shattered into a thousand ripples that defied gravity, rising into the air around me like suspended stars.

And in one floating droplet, I saw my reflection.

Silver eyes.

Pure, liquid silver—blazing like twin moons.

Silas stumbled backward.

Then his knees hit the stone floor.

"Goddess above." The words tore from him like a prayer. "Moon-blooded. The eleventh in a thousand years."

I stared at him, heart slamming against my ribs. "What?"

"The bloodline of the First Wolf." His forehead pressed to the ground. "The Moon Goddess's own daughters. I thought the line died in the last war. I thought—"

"Elder Silas." My voice cut through. "What does this mean?"

He raised his head slowly. His ancient eyes glistened.

“It means,” he said, choosing each word with care, “that when you sever a corrupted bond, the betrayer does not walk away untouched.”

My breath caught.

"When a Moon-blooded wolf severs a bond broken by betrayal, she leaves a mark." His voice dropped lower. "A brand. Moonfire, we call it. Every full moon, the pain returns—like his soul being flayed alive. It never fades. Never stops. Not until the day he dies."

The silver light pulsed beneath my skin. Warm now. Hungry.

Kain would feel this.

Every full moon. For the rest of his life.

"Do you wish to continue?" Silas asked quietly. "Knowing what it will cost him?"

I thought of the blizzard. His taillights vanishing into white.

I thought of the phone call. Victoria is my priority.

I thought of my baby's heartbeat—fluttering, fading, gone.

"Continue."

The answer was steady. Final.

Silas bowed his head.

"As you wish, Moon Daughter."

He placed both hands on my shoulders. The old tongue spilled from his lips—words that vibrated in my bones, in my blood, in the hollow space where my child used to be.

The water rose from the pool and wrapped around me like a cocoon of liquid moonlight.

Then the pain hit.

It felt like being torn in half. Like claws shredding through my chest, ripping out the bond thread by bloody thread.

My wolf howled. I screamed.

The sound echoed off moonstone walls and came back twisted, broken, raw.

And somewhere far away—I felt it.

A snap.

Clean. Final. Absolute.

The bond shattered.

I collapsed at the edge of the pool, gasping. My whole body shook. Sweat and tears ran together on my face.

But beneath the pain, beneath the emptiness where the bond used to live—

Freedom.

Pure. Absolute. Mine.

I laughed.

Or sobbed.

I couldn't tell the difference anymore.

……

The airport was quiet at this hour.

I sat in a hard plastic chair, phone in my hands.

One message. That was all I owed him.

I typed it slowly. Read it twice. Then hit send.

The departure board flickered. My flight was boarding.

I walked to the gate. Handed over my ticket. Found my seat by the window.

The plane lifted through thick gray clouds—and then broke through.

Sunlight.

Warm and golden, flooding through the scratched plastic window.

I pressed my palm to the glass.

Three years. One thousand and ninety-five days.

He never once looked at me. Not really.

But he would feel me now.

Every full moon.

For the rest of his life.