Lyssa sobbed harder, clutching his arm. “Must we do this in front of everyone? She’s already shaming herself.”
I snapped my gaze to her. That smirk again—subtle, smug, victorious.
She did this.
She forged the images.
But Brexon didn’t see. Or refused to.
“You believe I would betray you?” My voice broke. “After everything? After Nyra?”
Something flickered in his eyes at her name.
But the flame died.
"Doesn't matter what I believe,” he said coldly. “Sign the scroll.”
My breath hitched. He wasn’t going to listen. He had chosen his side.
Chosen her.
My heart fractured, but I refused to crumble. Not in front of her. Not in front of the pack.
I lifted my chin. “You’ll regret this.”
Brexon didn’t answer. He simply turned away, dismissing me with the same coldness he had shown when he turned his back on Nyra.
As whispers filled the hall and wolves watched me with judgment in their eyes, a realization settled deep in my bones:
Brexon Ashfend—the mate I once loved—was dead to me.
And if he thought I would walk out of here quietly…
He had no idea what kind of wolf he had just unleashed.
I was dead.
At least, that’s what the pack would believe soon enough.
The severance scroll was still clutched in my hand when I walked out of the Silvermoon Howlers territory for the last time, my neck still burning from Brexon’s claws, my heart nothing but an empty husk.
No warrior tried to stop me. No wolf even looked my way.
I was no longer Luna. No longer a mother. Just another rogue in the brutal world of Alphas and packs.
I tightened my grip on the small satchel—Nyra’s belongings. Her moonstone bracelet, her tiny cloak, the last scent she left behind. Brexon could keep everything else. The rank, the territory, the home we built together.
But he would never erase my daughter.
I walked until my legs ached, replaying everything—the clawing strike, the accusations, the disgust in his glowing eyes. Lyssa’s triumphant smile as she held her bastard pup as if it were royalty.
This wasn’t over.
My hands trembled as I summoned a low-level mindlink request, directing it toward one wolf I trusted.
The link opened.
"Arwen?"
“Levan,” I whispered, the weight of my ruin crashing over me. “I need you.”
A pause. Then a slow exhale.
"Where are you?"
“Doesn’t matter. I need a cart, a body, and a fire.” My voice hardened. “I need the entire realm to think I’m dead.”
Another pause. Then a dark chuckle.