Chapter 5

The day I was discharged, the doctor told me to watch my mood swings and suggested I get out of the house more.

I didn't go back to the main house. I had the driver take me to a border town on the southernmost edge of the territory—far from the Blackwell pack's core sphere of influence, a mixed settlement of humans and low-ranking wolves where no one would recognize their Alpha's Luna.

I walked the streets for a long time, until my legs started to give. A small tavern sat on the corner. I pushed through the door and slid into a window booth.

The server brought a sparkling water. I leaned back and tried to empty my mind.

Then I saw them.

Dominic and Lillian, walking side by side through the crowd across the street. A smear of ice cream clung to the corner of her mouth. He stopped, pulled a handkerchief from his pocket, tilted her chin up with his fingers, and gently wiped it away with his thumb.

She laughed and ducked her head. He caught her chin again—unhurried, patient, like the most natural thing in the world.

Then he dropped to one knee and tied her loosened shoelace.

My hand froze mid-air, glass halfway to my lips.

Once, he'd done all of that for me. Driven two hours through a blizzard just to buy the blueberry muffins I was craving. Knelt on a crowded sidewalk without a second thought to tie my shoes.

But time is a cruel thing. Even the deepest vows have an expiration date. Even a bond written by fate can be torn apart with bare hands.

I looked away and pulled the curtain shut.

That's when I heard Lillian's voice at the entrance. She tugged Dominic inside the tavern and chose the booth right next to mine.

A single thin partition between us—practically no soundproofing at all. Every word they spoke bled through as clearly as if I were sitting at their table.

"After you wrecked my bonding ceremony, my parents lost their minds." Lillian's voice dripped with that wounded, wheedling tone. "They're forcing me into blind dates, threatening to cast me out of the clan. I don't want to bond with anyone else… Even without a title, all I want is to be with you, Dominic."

A brief silence.

Then his voice—low, carrying a certainty I hadn't heard once in the past year.

"I'm going to mark you. A proper, complete soul-bond. Tell your parents that the Blackwell Luna isn't a position anyone gets to covet."

Lillian's breath caught. "You mean it? But aren't you… still bonded to Selena?"

"Selena and I went through a ceremony. That's all. The soul-bond was never completed." His voice dropped further, but every word punched through that wooden partition like a bullet. "In a few days I'll send her off under the guise of a trip, then take you to the Elders' Council for the official registration."

My fingers curled slowly inward, nails biting into flesh.

So that was it.

His lovingly planned "aurora trip." The deliberately softened tone at my bedside. None of it was atonement. He wanted to ship me out of the way so he could complete a real soul-bond with another woman—the bond he had never given me.

Through the partition came the sound of them working out the details—the witnessing Elder, the date, the ceremony procedure. Lillian's voice was intimate and giddy, like a woman about to have everything handed to her.

Just like I had been, once.

I couldn't stay another second.

I grabbed my bag and rushed into the restroom, locking the door behind me. The face in the mirror was ashen, eyes glassy, the half-healed gash on my forehead still an angry shade of red.

I twisted the faucet. Cold water hit my face, but it couldn't drown the fire burning through my chest.

I don't know how long I stood there before a piercing alarm ripped through the air.

"Fire! Everybody out!"

Screams and chaos erupted all at once. I shoved the restroom door open and smoke poured in, doubling me over with coughing.

I covered my nose and mouth and pushed into the crush surging toward the emergency exit. Through the haze, I caught a glimpse of a figure fighting against the current, charging back inside.

Dominic.

He was already half-shifted—spine ridged, claws extending from swollen knuckles, pupils blazing full amber-gold. His face was something past desperate.

"Lillian!" His voice shredded through the smoke. "Lillian, where are you?!"

A bystander grabbed his arm. "Are you out of your mind? It's an inferno in there!"

Dominic wrenched free without so much as a backward glance and plunged into the flames.

The crowd swept me out the door. I stood across the street, watching fire devour the building, my heart clenched into a fist.

A long time later, a figure came staggering out of the smoke.

Dominic was a wreck. His half-shifted healing was working on the charred skin, but far too slowly to keep pace with the damage. Burns covered his arms. His shirt hung in scorched ribbons.

But Lillian was cradled tight in his arms, shielded, untouched.

He lurched two steps and dropped to his knees. Even then, his arms stayed locked around her—refusing to let go.

Paramedics rushed over and eased them both onto stretchers.

I stood rooted to the spot, watching the ambulance pull away until its taillights dissolved at the end of the street.

The crowd dispersed. The sirens faded. All that remained was the drip of fire hoses and the sound of my own breathing.

I don't know how long I stood there. My legs had gone numb, but my body refused to move—as though the moment I stepped away, I'd have to accept something I still wasn't ready to face.

Deep in my consciousness, my wolf was unnervingly still. No keening, no howl. Just silence—watching it all with the steady gaze of a beast that had finally mapped the boundaries of the hunting ground.

At last, I unclenched fists that had gone bone-white, turned around, and walked into the night.

Back at the main house, I powered off my phone and severed every line of contact.

I packed everything that remained into a suitcase, checked my passport and cross-territory transfer documents, then picked up my phone and called the airline back.

"Confirming the itinerary. Five days from—"

The door crashed open.

Dominic stood in the doorway, a blood-soaked bandage wrapped around his forehead, burned skin slowly scabbing over under the pull of werewolf healing. His breathing was heavy. His eyes swept across the open suitcase on the floor, then locked onto me.

"Where do you think you're going, Selena?"