By dawn, I pulled my obsidian-black moon-carriage into the Council Hall’s stone courtyard. Through the tinted warded glass, I spotted Axton—and Vanya. His hand rested on the dip of her back as she giggled. The silver charm I’d once gifted him—the one infused with my aura—now shone on her wrist.
I stepped out, my rune-etched heels striking the stone. Axton’s head looked up. His smirk faltered, then forced itself back. Vanya stopped laughing.
“Well, look who crawled back.” His nostrils flared. “Ran to your Alpha father the moment life outside your precious territory got tough? Pathetic, Isolde.”
I adjusted my enchanted satchel and met his gaze. “You know what’s pathetic, Axton? A male who had to claw after his own assistant because he couldn’t stand being outmatched in rank, strength, or mind.”
I flicked my eyes to Vanya. “Enjoy the leftovers, Vanya. Just remember—he betrayed the last female too.”
Both of them paled. I walked past without another glance, pushing open the heavy warded doors.
I settled across from the Pack Envoy while Axton and Vanya slunk into the chamber. The rite progressed quickly—seals exchanged, bonds dissolved.
My envoy had prepared every clause perfectly. Axton had no room to challenge anything.
“Well, that’s done.” Axton leaned back, unfastening his collar. “You’ll miss me when I’m gone, Isolde. While I’m living my true life with Vanya, you’ll be alone in that cold ancestral manor of yours.”
I gathered my documents, sliding them into my case.
“The only thing I’ll miss,” I said smoothly, “is the five years I wasted believing you were worthy.”
“You ungrateful shrew.” His lips curled. “I gave you a normal wolf’s life—far from your pack’s twisted ways. You ought to thank me.”
“Thank you?” I laughed, sharp as a blade. “For what? For the forced moon-purging you tricked me into? Or for rutting with your assistant on our sacred nesting furs?”
His hand lifted—animalistic reflex—but before he could strike, I caught his wrist mid-air. My fingers pressed into the nerve points my uncle, War-Alpha Draeven, had taught me. Axton’s face contorted in pain.
“Lay a hand on me,” I whispered, voice low and feral, “and you’ll learn what it truly means to cross a Rustpire wolf. They won’t even find all the pieces.”
I released him, watching him stumble. Vanya clung to his arm, trembling. Only now did she understand the danger she’d stepped into.