POV: Alois

"Get her out," Marcus breathed, his voice barely audible. "Before I remember my duty."

He stepped back and hit the release button for the gate.

"Thank you," I choked out.

I didn't wait. I slammed the gas pedal. The SUV shot forward, leaving the pack lands behind.

"Alois..." A weak voice came from the back.

"I'm here, Luna. Hang on."

I drove like a madman, weaving through the city traffic. I wasn't taking her to a hospital. Kaeden owned the hospitals. I was taking her to the Black Market.

Dr. Gates ran a clinic in the basement of a laundromat in the slums. He was a human who knew about our world and didn't care about pack laws, only money.

I carried Daria down the narrow stairs. She was limp now. Her breathing was shallow, rapid gasps.

"Gates!" I roared, kicking the door open.

The doctor, a thin man with greasy glasses, looked up from a microscope. He saw the blood and sighed. "I charge double for Alpha messes."

"Just save her," I said, laying Daria on the surgical table.

Gates cut away her dress. He paused when he saw the silver burns. Then he took a blood sample. He ran it through a centrifuge on his desk.

A moment later, the machine beeped. Gates looked at the screen, and his eyes went wide.

"Holy mother of..." he whispered. "Do you know what she is?"

"She is a patient," I barked. "Fix her!"

"Look at the energy reading!" Gates turned the screen to me. The graph was spiking off the charts. "This isn't normal werewolf blood. This is... ancient. White Wolf markers."

He looked at Daria with greedy eyes. "Her organs alone would be worth millions on the black market. Her heart could cure any disease. Her bone marrow could create super-soldiers."

I grabbed Gates by the collar and slammed him against the wall. My canines extended, sharpening into points.

"You want money?" I snarled. "I'll give you something better. I'll give you the patent rights to the synthetic version of her blood. You can be the richest man in the human world. But if she dies, you get nothing but a severed throat."

Gates swallowed hard, his eyes darting between me and the readout. Greed won.

"Okay. Okay! But she needs surgery now. The uterus is ruptured. I... I can't save the pup."

I looked at Daria. A tear slid from her closed eye. She heard him.

"Save the mother," I said, my voice breaking.

Gates got to work. "I have a drug. 'Wolf's Sleep.' It stops the heart for three minutes. Flatlines the monitor. It mimics death perfectly. We can use the tissue from the... from the procedure... to fake a corpse."

"Do it," I said.

Gates injected a clear liquid into Daria's IV.

"I'm sorry, Daria," I whispered, holding her cold hand.

On the monitor, the green line of her heartbeat slowed.

Beep... beep... beep...

Then, a long, high-pitched tone filled the room.

Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep.

The line went flat.

"She's under," Gates said, wiping sweat from his forehead. "We have to move fast. If I don't revive her in exactly 180 seconds, she stays dead."

My phone buzzed in my pocket. It was a notification from the pack network.

Alpha Kaeden has initiated a track on your vehicle.

He knew.

POV: Kaeden

"The surgery was a success, Alpha."

The surgeon walked out of the operating room in the pack hospital, pulling off his bloody gloves.

"Clemmie?" I asked, standing up.

"She is resting. The new heart is beating strong. Her body accepted it immediately."

I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding. I had done it. I had saved her.

Why did I feel like I wanted to vomit?

I walked to the window, looking out at the moon. It was full tonight.

Suddenly, a pain ripped through my chest.

It wasn't a heart attack. It was deeper. It felt like a giant, invisible hand had reached into my soul and tore a vital cable.

I gasped, falling to my knees, clutching my chest. The fog in my brain didn't just lift; it shattered. The artificial calm that had blanketed me for months evaporated, leaving only raw, bleeding panic.

"Alpha!" Marcus rushed to my side.

Daria.

I reached for her through the Mind-Link. I expected to feel her fear, her anger, or even her silence.

Instead, I found... nothing.

Not a wall. Not a block.

Just a void. An abyss where a connection used to be.

The Mate Bond. It hadn't just faded. It had snapped.

"No," I whispered. "That's impossible."

A Mate Bond only snaps for one reason.

Death.

"Sir," the Head of Security ran into the hallway, looking pale. "We found the Gamma's car. It was abandoned near the river. And... we found this."

He held up a plastic bag. Inside was a piece of fabric. It was the hem of the dress Daria was wearing. It was soaked in blood and singed with silver.

"She's gone, Alpha," the guard said, keeping his head down. "The scent trail ends at the water. She... she must have succumbed to her injuries."

"Liar!" I roared. I grabbed the guard by the throat and slammed him into the wall. "She is faking it! She is trying to run away!"

"Kaeden?"

Clemmie was wheeled out of the recovery room. She looked radiant. Her cheeks were pink. She looked healthier than she had in years.

"What's wrong?" she asked softly.

"Daria," I choked out. "The bond... it's gone."

Clemmie's eyes widened, but she didn't look sad. She looked relieved.

"Oh, Kaeden," she sighed, reaching for my hand. "Don't you see? It's a sign. The Moon Goddess severed the false tie so we could be truly together. She sacrificed herself for us."

I looked at Clemmie. I should have felt love. I should have felt gratitude.

But as I looked at her, the woman I had destroyed my marriage for, I felt cold. The headache was gone, and with it, the strange, obsessive warmth I'd felt for her.

My phone rang. It was an unknown number.

I answered it.

"Who is this?" I barked.

"You don't deserve to know," a distorted voice replied. It was mechanical, deep.

"Where is she?" I demanded. "Where is Daria?"

"Daria is dead, Kaeden," the voice said. It was cold, hard, and filled with a hatred that chilled my blood. "You killed her. You killed your heir. And now, you are going to live with the silence."

"Bring me her body," I commanded, trying to use the Alpha tone, but my voice wavered.

"There is no body," the voice said. "Only ashes. And the curse she left on your soul."

The line went dead.

I stared at the phone. The pain in my chest was dulling now, replaced by a hollow, aching emptiness.

I looked at Clemmie, who was smiling at her new reflection in the window.

And for the first time, I noticed something.

She didn't smell like vanilla anymore. Underneath the hospital antiseptic, she smelled like rot.

And I... I was alone.