I don't know how long I stayed on that kitchen floor. Minutes blurred into hours, the candles I'd lit burning down to stumps, their wax pooling across the table like tears. The steak had gone cold. The roasted vegetables congealed in their dish. Everything I'd prepared to celebrate our miracle now mocked me with its futility.

My wolf wouldn't stop keening. The sound echoed through my skull, a mournful howl that made my bones ache. She kept reaching for our mate through the bond, desperate for reassurance, for explanation, for anything that would make the images we'd witnessed less real. But every time she touched that connection, she recoiled as if burned.

Because Levi knew. Through our bond, he had to know about the life growing inside me. Wolves could sense their mate's pregnancy almost immediately. Which meant he'd known this morning when he left for patrol. He'd known yesterday. Maybe he'd known for days.

And he'd chosen to be with her anyway.

The betrayal cut deeper than any physical wound. Waverly's mind-link invasion replayed behind my eyelids every time I blinked—his tender touches, his protective stance, the way he'd smiled at the sound of her pup's heartbeat. A pup that shouldn't exist. A pup conceived with his former chosen mate while he was bonded to me.

My hand pressed harder against my stomach. The tiny life inside me deserved better than this. Deserved a father who would choose us, protect us, cherish us the way the Moon Goddess intended when she'd blessed us with this miracle after so many years of trying.

But I couldn't bring a child into this toxicity. Couldn't raise them in the shadow of their father's betrayal, surrounded by whispers about the Luna who'd been replaced before she could even give birth. The pack would tear us apart with their speculation and pity. And Waverly—she'd already proven she could breach the sacred privacy of our mate bond. What would she do to my pup?

*No,* my wolf whimpered. *Our pup. Finally, finally ours.*

"I know," I whispered into the empty kitchen, my voice breaking. "I know, and I'm so sorry."

The decision crystallized with brutal clarity. I couldn't do this. Couldn't stay bonded to a man who'd shattered every vow we'd made, who'd let another woman into the space that should belong only to us. And I couldn't bring our innocent child into the wreckage of what we'd become.

I had to end it. Both of it.

The rejection ritual would destroy me—might even kill my wolf entirely. Ten years of bonding wasn't something you could just sever without consequences. But staying would kill me slower, piece by agonizing piece, until nothing remained of the woman I'd once been.

I pulled myself to my feet, legs shaking. My phone sat on the counter where I'd left it this morning, back when the world still made sense. Back when I'd been planning nurseries and picking out names and imagining Levi's face when I told him.

My fingers trembled as I scrolled through my contacts. There was only one person I could trust with this. Only one person who'd understand without judgment.

Silas answered on the second ring. "Ember? What's wrong?"

Of course he could tell. Even through the phone, my distress must have been palpable. "I need..." My throat closed. I tried again. "Can I come to the clinic? I need to see you. Please."

"I'm here." His voice steadied, professional and warm. "Come now. I'll be waiting."

I hung up before I could change my mind. Before my wolf could talk me out of what had to be done.

The drive to Silas's clinic passed in a blur. I barely remembered getting into my car or navigating the familiar roads through pack territory. My body moved on autopilot while my mind spun through the wreckage of my life. Ten years. A decade of believing in destiny, in the sacred bond the Moon Goddess had granted us. All of it reduced to ash by Levi's choice to prioritize guilt over love, obligation over devotion.

Silas met me at the clinic door before I could knock. His healer's eyes took in my appearance in one sweep—my tear-stained face, my trembling hands, the way I held my stomach as if I could protect what was inside from the decision I'd already made.

"Come in." He guided me through the empty waiting room to his private office, one hand hovering near my elbow without quite touching. Always careful. Always respectful of boundaries, even now.

The office smelled like chamomile and lavender, scents meant to soothe. They didn't help. Nothing could help.

I collapsed into the chair across from his desk and the words tumbled out. "I'm pregnant. Finally pregnant after ten years, and my wolf sensed it this morning, and I was so happy—" My voice cracked. "I made dinner. I lit candles. I was planning how to tell him."

Silas's expression shifted from concern to understanding to something darker. Fury, carefully banked behind his healer's calm. "Ember..."

"Then Waverly invaded our mate bond." The words tasted like poison. "She sent me images. Mind-link messages that should never have been possible. And I saw them together at the pack hospital. Saw him holding her hand during her prenatal appointment. Saw him smiling at her pup's heartbeat the way I'd dreamed he'd smile at ours."

Silas's hands, those gentle healer's hands that had mended countless wounds, curled into fists on his desk. "He let her breach your bond?"

"He's been with her. While knowing I'm pregnant. While—" I couldn't finish. Couldn't voice the full extent of the betrayal without shattering completely.

"What do you need?" Silas's voice dropped low, carefully controlled. "Whatever it is, I'll help you."

I met his eyes. They were steady and warm, full of a devotion I'd been too blind to see for years. "I need to terminate the pregnancy. And then I need to perform the rejection ritual."

The silence that followed felt infinite. Silas's face went pale, but he didn't flinch. Didn't try to talk me out of it. He simply nodded once, then reached across the desk to take my shaking hands in his.

"I've loved you since high school," he said quietly. "Since before either of us shifted. Since before you knew what a mate bond even was." His thumbs traced gentle circles across my knuckles. "I chose to become a healer partly because watching you discover Levi broke something in me, and I needed to learn how to fix broken things. To be useful. To stay close to you, even if it could never be the way I wanted."

Tears spilled down my cheeks. "Silas—"

"I'll support you through this. All of it. The procedure, the rejection, the aftermath." His voice roughened with emotion. "And when it's over, if you'll let me, I'll spend the rest of my life proving that chosen bonds can be just as powerful as fated ones. That you deserve someone who chooses you every single day, not because the Moon Goddess commanded it, but because they can't imagine existing without you."

My wolf stirred. Not with the wild recognition of a mate bond, but with something quieter. Steadier. The promise of safety after a decade of uncertainty.

"Help me," I whispered. "Please help me survive this."

Silas squeezed my hands. "Always."

The house smelled wrong.

I stood in the doorway of the home Levi and I had shared for ten years, my packed suitcase heavy in my hand, and breathed in the contamination. His scent—pine and leather and Alpha dominance—was everywhere, as it should be. But woven through it like poison ivy strangling a tree was her. Vanilla and something cloyingly sweet. Waverly's scent marked our kitchen, our living room, our hallway.

Our bedroom.

My wolf released a sound between a whimper and a snarl. The violation went deeper than Levi's betrayal, deeper than his choice to hold another woman's hand during her prenatal appointment. He'd brought her here. Into our sanctuary. Into the space where we'd made love and whispered promises and tried for years to create the life I'd just scheduled to destroy.

I dropped my suitcase and walked through each room like a ghost haunting her own life. Her coffee mug sat in the sink—not washed, not hidden, just left there as if she belonged. The throw blanket on our couch was folded differently than I ever folded it. And in our bedroom, the one place that should have been sacred, her scent clung to the sheets.

The sheets where I'd woken this morning glowing with joy.

I stripped the bed with mechanical precision, bundling the contaminated linens into a heap on the floor. My hands moved on autopilot as I pulled clothes from our shared closet—my clothes, only mine. Ten years of my life folded into three suitcases. A decade reduced to cotton and memories.

My wolf whimpered with each item I packed, sensing the finality. She knew what was coming. The rejection ritual wouldn't just sever our bond with Levi—it might kill her entirely. Ten years of bonding wasn't something you could simply cut away. It was woven into every cell, every breath, every heartbeat.

*I'm sorry,* I told her silently. *But we can't survive this. You know we can't.*

She didn't argue. Just curled up somewhere deep inside me, preparing for the spiritual death we'd both face tomorrow.

I was zipping the last suitcase when his scent exploded through the house, sharp with alarm. The front door slammed open hard enough to rattle the windows.

"Ember!" Levi's voice thundered through our home, carrying his Alpha command like a physical force. "What are you doing?"

I didn't turn around. Just kept my hands steady on the suitcase zipper, my back to the doorway where I could feel him filling the space. "What does it look like?"

"You're leaving." Not a question. Through our bond, his confusion and anger crashed into me like waves. And then—then I felt the exact moment he sensed it. Felt his consciousness brush against the tiny life growing inside me, the miracle he should have celebrated, should have protected.

Should have chosen.

"You're pregnant." His voice cracked. "Ember, you're—how long have you known?"

I finally turned to face him. He looked wrecked—hair disheveled from running his hands through it, his Alpha aura flickering uncertainly. Good. He should look wrecked.

"Since this morning," I said, my voice eerily calm. "When my wolf woke me up singing. When I thought—" I couldn't finish that sentence. Couldn't voice the hope that had been so brutally crushed.

Levi took a step forward, one hand outstretched. "Then why are you packing? This is—Ember, this is what we've wanted for ten years. This is—"

"Stop." The word cracked through the air like a whip. "Don't you dare act like this is some blessing we're celebrating together."

His hand dropped. "What are you talking about?"

"Waverly sent me images through our mate bond." I watched his face drain of color. "She breached the sacred privacy that should only belong to us and sent me mind-link messages of you holding her hand during her prenatal appointment. Of you smiling at her pup's heartbeat. Of you choosing her while knowing—" My voice finally broke. "While knowing I was finally pregnant after all these years."

"It's not—" He stepped forward again, and his Alpha command rolled through the room like thunder. "You will not leave this house. You will not—"

"Don't." Ice crystallized in my veins, hardening my spine. "Don't you dare use your Alpha tone on me. I am your mate, not your subordinate."

"Was," I corrected, the word bitter on my tongue. "I was your mate. Tomorrow, after my appointment at the pack hospital, I won't be anything to you at all."

The bond between us convulsed. Levi staggered backward as if I'd struck him. "No. Ember, no. You can't—the rejection will kill your wolf. You know it will. And the pup—"

"There won't be a pup." The words tasted like ash. "I have an appointment scheduled for eight a.m. By noon tomorrow, I'll have nothing left of you inside me. Not your mark, not your bond, not your child."

His anguished howl shook the windows. "You can't do this!"

"Watch me."

I grabbed my suitcases and walked past him, my shoulder brushing his arm. The mate bond screamed in protest, trying to root me in place, trying to force me to stay. But my resolve had crystallized into something harder than diamond, sharper than any Alpha command.

I'd survived ten years of shame and whispers. I'd survived eight failed pregnancies. I would survive this too.

Even if my wolf didn't.

"Ember, please." His voice broke behind me. "Please don't do this. I'll fix it. I'll make it right. Just—"

I didn't look back. Couldn't look back, or I might shatter entirely.

The door closed behind me with a soft click that sounded like the end of the world.