Five days until the ceremony.

I walked into the Pack Council chamber, dressed in a black power suit.

All the Elders were waiting for me.

"Isla, are you certain about this?" the Head Elder asked, his voice grave.

"I am." I placed the formal request on the table. "I am petitioning to suspend the Mating Ceremony."

The chamber fell silent.

"Why?" the Second Elder asked.

"Personal reasons."

"Personal reasons?" the Third Elder stood up. "This is about an alliance between two powerful families!"

"That's your concern," I said, turning to leave. "My decision is final."

Furious discussion erupted behind me, but I didn't look back.

When I got back to the apartment building, I saw the familiar black sedan.

They were back.

The elevator doors opened, and Damien and Seraphina were standing inside.

Seraphina looked well, a healthy flush on her cheeks.

Damien's arm was still wrapped protectively around her waist.

"Isla?" Damien's eyes widened in surprise when he saw me. "Where have you been?"

"Taking care of some business."

We rode up together in a tense, suffocating silence.

"You cleared out the herb garden?" Damien asked as he pushed open our apartment door and saw the empty balcony.

"Gave it away."

"Why?"

"I don't need it anymore."

Damien frowned but didn't press further.

Seraphina walked onto the balcony, feigning surprise. "Wow, it's so empty. I bet it was beautiful before."

"It was fine."

"Isla, I'm so grateful for your understanding," Seraphina said, turning to me, a strange light in her eyes.

"Why don't we all have dinner together tonight? I'd love to thank you properly."

I just stared at her.

Seeing my coldness, Seraphina's expression immediately changed, her eyes welling up with tears.

"Did... did I say something wrong?" She turned to Damien, her voice trembling. "I just wanted to show my gratitude..."

Damien's face instantly darkened.

"Isla," he growled, his voice laced with the Alpha command. "Control yourself. Seraphina is our guest. You are making her uncomfortable."

I looked at him calmly. "Fine."

At dinner, the nutrient broth arrived.

Damien had ordered it specially for Seraphina.

I recognized the scent immediately: Heart-leaf, an herb whose properties only activate for a she-wolf bonded to the Alpha who serves it.

He served a bowl and handed it to me. "You should have some too. It's good for you."

I took the bowl and sipped.

A foreign, repulsive energy instantly warred with my own.

My body recoiled, the rejection a physical, agonizing proof of his betrayal.

Damien froze.

He had forgotten.

That herb no longer worked for me.

My phone rang.

Ignoring Damien, I stepped out onto the balcony, sliding the glass door shut behind me before answering in a hushed voice.

"Miss Isla? This is the secretary from the Laurel Guild. Your flight has been confirmed."

"Good," I said, my voice steady despite the turmoil inside me. "The ceremony is off. I'm ready to leave."

Just as I hung up, a deep, commanding voice came from behind me.

"Who's leaving?"

I spun around. Damien was standing just outside the balcony door, his eyes like chips of ice.

The lingering pain from the energy clash had made me forget—an Alpha’s hearing could cut straight through walls.

Thank the Goddess, he hadn’t heard everything.

"A healer friend of mine," I answered calmly , stepping past him and back into the dining room. "She's going to South America to study new herbs."

Damien walked over and sat back down. "Which friend?"

"You don't know her."

"Her name."

"Why should I tell you?"

Seraphina coughed softly from the side. "Damien, don't be so hard on Isla. A girl's secrets are important."

Her words seemed to calm him down.

"Sorry," he said to me, though his eyes were still full of suspicion.

But he didn’t press further, seeming reluctant to sour the mood any more.

His gaze softened as he turned to Seraphina, pulling a beautiful box from his jacket.

"What's that?" Seraphina asked curiously.

"It's for you."

Inside was an obsidian pendant, carved with intricate runes.

I could read them clearly: Damien & Seraphina, Forever Bonded.

"It's gorgeous!" Seraphina exclaimed, putting it on. "Is this a mate's token?"

"Mmmhmm." Damien fastened the chain for her. "I've infused it with my Alpha energy. It will protect you and the pup."

He took out his phone and snapped a picture of her in the mirror.

"Smile."

She beamed like a child, her eyes shining with pure happiness.

Damien immediately sent her the photo with the caption: My precious one.

"It suits you," I commented.

Damien looked at me, a flicker of distance in his eyes.

The next afternoon, I went to the werewolf-exclusive apothecary to buy some last-minute travel supplies.

As I reached the door, I heard a familiar voice inside.

"Check the heartbeat again."

It was Damien.

Through the glass, I could see Seraphina lying on a treatment bed, with Damien standing nervously beside her.

"Everything's normal," the pack healer said. "The pup is very healthy."

"Thank you," Damien said, taking Seraphina's hand. "The healer says the pup will be very strong."

I turned to leave, but the chime of the door gave me away.

"Isla?" Seraphina called out from inside. "Are you here for herbs too?"

"Just passing by."

"Wait, we can leave together," she called back to Damien. "I'll be right out."

Ten minutes later, they came out together.

"How are the ceremony preparations going?" Seraphina asked innocently. "I hear it's going to be huge."

"The ceremony will proceed as planned," Damien answered for me. "It's just been delayed a bit."

I looked at them and said nothing.

"Isla, I know you must be feeling hurt," Seraphina said, stepping closer to me. "But I hope you don't give up on Damien. You're the one he truly loves."

Her voice was sincere, her eyes brimming with tears.

"I don't deserve such a good man. You're his fated mate."

Onlookers on the street started to whisper.

"That girl is so kind."

"She's willing to suffer for someone else's happiness."

"Why does that Isla woman look so cold?"

I turned and walked away.

"Isla!" Seraphina called after me. "Please don't misunderstand, I really don't want to take him from you!"

She ran up, trying to grab my arm.

"I know you're angry, but please, just give us a chance to explain—"

"Let go of me," I said, shaking her off.

The moment my hand made contact, she didn't just stumble.

She threw herself sideways with a theatrical gasp, aiming directly for the ancient laurel tree.

Laurel trees have a repulsive energy to weaker werewolves; she should have known that.

"Ah!" she screamed, slamming hard against the trunk before collapsing to the ground in a heap.

"Seraphina!" Damien roared, rushing to her side.

He saw her on the ground, then looked at my outstretched hand, and his eyes blazed with a fury I had never seen directed at me.

"What the hell did you do?!" he roared, dropping to his knees beside her. "How could you attack a pregnant she-wolf?!"

"I didn't—"

"Enough!" Damien cut me off. "In front of all these people, you will apologize to Seraphina! Now!"

"I'm not apologizing."

My voice cut through the murmuring crowd.

Damien froze. "What did you say?"

"I said, I am not apologizing." I pointed to a nearby building. "There's a security memory crystal on that building. It records everything. Shall we review the footage?"

The color drained from Seraphina's face.

"No... don't bother," she said weakly. "It was probably just an accident..."

But her words were cut off by a pained groan.

"The energy backlash!" She clutched her chest, her face turning even paler. "The laurel tree's repelling energy is too strong!"

Damien immediately scooped her into his arms. "Hang on. I'm taking you to the healers."

He sprinted across the street to the healing center without a single glance back at me.

The crowd began to disperse, but the whispers continued.

"That Isla is so cold-blooded."

"The poor girl is pregnant and hurt, and she won't even say sorry."

"No wonder the Alpha prefers the gentle one."

I stood there, staring in the direction of the healing center.

Then I turned and walked away.

The next day was the final day before the ceremony.

In the morning, I shipped all my luggage.

All that was left was a small backpack with my essentials and my plane ticket.

A three o'clock flight.

At ten that night, Damien finally returned.

"How is Seraphina?" I asked.

"Stable," he said, his voice frigid. "The pack healer said if she hadn't gotten there in time, she could have lost the pup."

"That's good."

Damien stalked over to me, the anger still simmering in his eyes.

"At the ceremony tomorrow," he commanded, his voice leaving no room for argument, "you will make a public apology to her."

"What ceremony?"

"Our Mating Ceremony." He frowned. "Did you forget?"

I looked at him and suddenly wanted to laugh.

"You really think there's going to be a ceremony?"

"Of course there is. I've already informed all the Elders." Damien's tone grew impatient. "For the sake of the pack's honor, you need to be the bigger person."

His phone suddenly rang.

"Damien, I'm not feeling well," Seraphina's voice came through the speaker. "Can you come be with me?"

Damien shot to his feet. "I'm on my way."

He grabbed his jacket and headed for the door.

"Nine a.m. tomorrow. Don't be late," he commanded without looking back. "The ceremony will proceed on time."

The moment the door clicked shut, I let the silence settle.

Then, I spoke the words into the empty room, each one a final, liberating vow.

"I, Isla, reject you, Damien."

He was already gone.

I waited until morning.

Sitting at the dining table, I took out the calendar marked with the ceremony date.

With a red pen, on today's date, I wrote:

The Bond is Rejected.

Then I grabbed my suitcase and walked out of the place I had once called home.

On the way to the airport, I sent a single text to the Head Elder.

Initiate the Severing Ritual. The Mating Ceremony is canceled.

By 9:30 a.m., my plane was in the air.

Below me, the city—the pack, my past, him—shrank until it was swallowed by the clouds.

I pictured Damien in that moment.

He would have arrived at the sacred altar by now.

Dressed in his finest robes, waiting for his bride.