"Selene, I want a Bond Rejection. Help me draft the severance terms—I'm walking away with nothing."

After five years of secret bonding to Fenris Duskmoor, I finally understood: he didn't claim me for love. So I decided to sever our bond without his knowledge, presenting the papers as his anniversary gift.

Selene Frostveil stared at me in disbelief. "Lyra Ashvale, are you certain about this? Five years of mating isn't something you just cast aside."

I lifted my chin, my gaze steady. "I'm certain. This bond was a mistake from the start. I don't want to keep pretending anymore."

A few minutes later, she pulled a document from her leather satchel. "Alright. This is the Bond Severance agreement that Pack Advocate Thornhart drafted. He's away on territory business today, so he asked me to pass it along. Just get your Alpha to mark it with his blood seal. Also, make sure you understand the original bonding contract terms—there's a thirty-day cooling period required by Mooncourt law. Be ready for that."

I took the papers and nodded. "Got it."

With the agreement tucked under my arm, I said goodbye to Selene and shifted into my wolf form, running swiftly through the forest paths toward the Duskmoor Central Den.

I pushed open the heavy oak door to the Alpha's council chamber. Fenris sat behind his carved wooden desk, a territory report in hand. When he looked up and caught my scent, a faint smile tugged at his lips.

"Running late today? Don't think being the Alpha's mate means you can slack off from your liaison duties."

His tone was warm, almost brotherly—but there was no love in it. There never had been. My wolf whimpered inside me, sensing what my heart already knew.

"The forest trails were crowded with patrol wolves," I said, walking toward him. I placed the Bond Severance agreement on his desk and drew a steadying breath, fighting to keep the tremor out of my voice. "Alpha Duskmoor, I just closed a new alliance pact with the northern packs. This is the blood oath—I need your seal here."

The moment he reached for the document, I looked up and met his sharp, golden-flecked gaze. My heart stuttered. What if he catches my nervous scent?

But he didn't even glance at the contents. He flipped straight to the last page and pressed his clawed thumb to the blood seal mark, his tone light and casual. "Another pact closed? Nice work, Lyra."

Watching his blood bind to the paper, a bitter ache spread through my chest.

Five years of bonding, and his warmth toward me had only ever been about my usefulness to the pack—never about me being someone he could love as his true mate.

His howl-call crystal buzzed with an incoming message.

He glanced at the glowing stone, and his expression transformed. The polite detachment melted into something tender, almost reverent. Even his voice softened as he answered, his wolf practically purring through the words.

"Hungry? I'm still at the den. If you want, I can hunt something fresh and bring it to your quarters. How does that sound?"

Anyone listening would have assumed the female on the other end was his bonded mate of five years.

But no one knew—no one except me—how long I had loved Fenris Duskmoor.

We grew up together, childhood companions in neighboring pack territories.

For him, I abandoned my own path and studied pack diplomacy instead. I joined his pack as his Omega liaison just to stay close, to breathe in his pine-and-storm scent every day.

Five years ago, one night, we ended up together—an accident fueled by too much moon wine during the harvest celebration.

When morning came, he said he would take responsibility. He said he would bond with me.

I was overjoyed. I said yes without a second thought.

But what he meant was a secret bond. A contract. An agreement that either of us could walk away the moment we found our true fated mate.

I plummeted from the clouds. Yet even then, I couldn't resist the temptation of being his mate—even if only in secret, even if the bond mark on my shoulder stayed hidden beneath my clothes.

So I signed the blood oath. I played the part. I helped him keep his pack elders satisfied with the appearance of a proper Alpha with a bonded Omega.

After the bonding ceremony, I threw myself into pack work, closing alliance pacts, proving my worth. I thought if I tried hard enough, he would finally see me—not as the little pup he once protected during border skirmishes, but as a female who could stand beside him as a true Luna.

But his feelings never changed. Even during our rare intimate moments, it was mechanical. Obligatory. Just instinct and biology, nothing of the soul-deep connection a true mating should bring.

It wasn't until later that I learned the truth: the reason he'd gotten drunk that night, the reason he'd ended up with me—it was because the female he truly wanted had bonded with someone else.

And that female was Aurora Duskmoor.

The false-blooded heiress his pack had mistakenly adopted as a pup.

His sister in name only—but the one whose scent made his wolf howl with longing.

He couldn't bear the thought of watching her become another wolf's mate. His feelings had slipped through the cracks of his careful control, nearly exposing him to the pack elders. That was why he rushed into bonding with me—simply to satisfy his parents' demands and quiet the whispers among the Duskmoor wolves.

At first, the truth had torn through me like claws.

But deep in my heart, I always believed that a bond could strengthen over time. That eventually, I would find a way past his walls and into the place where his wolf truly dwelt.

Until a few days ago, when I discovered the secret hidden within his message-sigil crystal.

Aurora's pack registration had been transferred out of her bloodline's territory. She was tangled in a brutal bond dissolution with her mate, Darian Hollowfang.

With no den to shelter her, Fenris had arranged everything—securing her lodging at neutral territory inns, accompanying her through shared meals and moonlit walks along the forest trails, even standing beside her at the Mooncourt hearings to fight her bond severance.

Meanwhile, a month ago, I had been captured by wolves from a rival pack. When I sent him an urgent howl-call, desperate and afraid, his sigil channel remained dark and silent.

Later, an unmarked memory-crystal arrived for me.

In the vision it held, he was in Aurora's bed, lost in her body, their scents intertwined.

That was the moment I finally made my decision: this hollow bond had to end.

The memory pulled a bitter laugh from my throat.

I turned and walked out of his council chamber, sealing the signed bond rejection documents and sending them by trusted courier to Selene.

Back at the Alpha's Keep, I began gathering my things.

The garments hanging in the wardrobe, the tomes arranged on the shelves, the jewelry tucked away in carved wooden boxes... I sorted through each item, one by one, feeling nothing. Not a single thread of attachment remained.

When he returned to the den that evening, it took him a long while to notice how much had vanished from the rooms.

He wandered over to where I stood, his tone light and unconcerned. "Why are you packing things away? Replacing the old with new?"

I didn't lift my gaze. "Everything here is worn and faded. Time for a change."

He let out a low chuckle. "That's fair. You work so hard managing pack affairs for me—you deserve to treat yourself better. Claim whatever you desire from the tribute stores."

I offered no response. Just continued folding and sorting.

That night, fresh from the bathing springs, he wrapped his arms around me from behind, his voice dropping to a low, suggestive rumble. "Perhaps tonight we could...?"

I steadied myself and stepped out of his embrace, keeping my tone flat. "My heat cycle just passed, and the aftermath still lingers. I don't feel well."

He paused, confusion flickering across his features. "Hasn't it been four days since your heat ended?"

My expression remained unchanged. "I still don't feel well."

In five years of being bonded, this was the first time I had ever refused him.

Before, even when my body was still recovering from the intensity of heat, I would have pushed through the discomfort to accommodate his needs—as long as he wanted me.

Not anymore.

From now on, I would put myself first. I would learn to refuse. I would release all the grievances and heartache I had been carrying like stones in my chest.

This bond was finished.

Thirty days. The mandatory reflection period required by Mooncourt law.

In thirty days, I would leave this den for good.

I lay awake through the entire night, listening to the distant howls echoing across the territory.

At first light, I rose and prepared a morning meal—only for myself. I didn't set out his portion the way I always used to.

Fenris emerged from the sleeping chamber and instinctively curved his arm around my waist, leaning down to press his lips against my forehead in the traditional morning greeting between mates.

I tilted my head slightly, avoiding his touch.

"What's wrong? Is your mood sour this morning?" He noticed the change immediately.

I lowered my head. My nose stung, and I could barely keep the heat from rising to my eyes.

I bit down hard on the inside of my cheek and forced my voice to stay even. "I'm just hungry."

He didn't push further. After all, that morning kiss had always been something I insisted upon, a small ritual I treasured. To him, it had never held the same meaning.

He settled into his seat, grabbed a piece of honeyed bread, and took a bite. Then, as if suddenly remembering, he asked, "By the way, which pack was that alliance pact with yesterday? I don't think I ever inquired."

I kept my composure steady. "The Emberstone Pack. Would you like to review the blood oath terms?"

He was quiet for a moment.

Just as cold sweat began to prick at my palms, he laughed and reached over to ruffle my hair with casual affection. "I trust you."

I ducked my head, a sour ache spreading through my chest like slow poison.

I had even secretly hoped that maybe, just this once, he would show some genuine interest in my work for the pack. Ask if there were any concerns with the alliance terms. Any hidden dangers lurking in the fine details.

But reality proved it was just another one-sided dream.

After we finished eating, we climbed into the carriage. His message-sigil crystal pulsed with an incoming call almost immediately.

It was Aurora.

On the other end of the howl-call, her voice trembled with tears, dripping with helplessness. "Fenris, my former mate's pack is gathered outside my lodge quarters, blocking the entrance, threatening me not to proceed with the Bond Dissolution. I don't know what to do."

His expression shifted instantly. He slammed his foot down, and the vehicle shot forward through the night.

He kept his voice low and soothing as he drove. "Don't be frightened. I'm coming to you. Stay inside and don't open the door. Wait for me."

I gripped the seat restraint, my knuckles white. "Fenris, slow down. This is reckless."

Only then did he seem to remember I was sitting beside him. He hit the brakes hard, his tone clipped and decisive. "Find your own way to the den. I have to go—now."

Before I could respond, he was already accelerating again.

The vehicle tore down the road, ignoring every signal as if his own safety meant nothing.

I stood alone on the empty path, discarded like an afterthought, a hollow ache spreading through my chest.

I took a deep breath and summoned a transport.

At the Central Den, I buried myself in pack duties.

I handled my responsibilities while quietly, deliberately passing tasks to others.

This bond was over. I couldn't keep relying on him—or on what we used to be.

He didn't return until nearly the end of the day.

The tension from this morning had vanished. His shoulders were relaxed, his expression light, the ghost of a smile playing at the corner of his lips.

When I stepped into his council chamber to deliver my report, I caught it—that familiar, cloying scent clinging to him. Aurora's signature fragrance, sweet and floral, layered over his natural musk.

He flipped through the documents absently, then glanced up. His gaze landed on my bare finger where my bonding mark should have gleamed.

"Why did you conceal your bond mark?"

My voice stayed even. "You didn't want me displaying it. You were worried someone in the pack might notice our connection. So I stopped."

"Is that so?" He nodded, seemingly satisfied with the explanation.

If he'd thought about it for even a second longer, he would have realized how strange it was—that I, who had always insisted on everyone recognizing our bond, had suddenly hidden all traces of it.

But he didn't.

He just smiled faintly, his eyes distant, still savoring whatever had happened with Aurora.

I let out a bitter half-smile and turned to leave.

Outside the chamber, I pulled out my message-crystal. Sure enough, Aurora had just shared a new memory-capture for the pack network.

One image flickered past in the recording.

Fenris's back, framed in a kitchen doorway.

He was wearing an apron, cooking utensil in hand, his expression soft and focused as he prepared a meal for her.

He had never liked being in the cooking quarters.

I was the one who had taught myself to prepare food, hoping to make something he'd enjoy.

Only now did I finally understand.

It wasn't that he didn't want to cook.

He just didn't want to cook for me.

I stood by the moonlit pool behind the Central Den, watching the silver light ripple across the water while something cold and sharp twisted in my chest.

I pulled the bonding token from my pocket and held it in my palm, as if I could still feel the warmth it once carried.

"Goodbye."

The word was barely a whisper.

I drew my arm back and hurled the token into the pool.

It arced through the air, broke the surface, and sank without a trace.

I took a deep breath, straightened my spine, and walked away.

After a pack council session later that day, I noticed Fenris's gaze pause on an unfamiliar face standing nearby. His brow furrowed, almost imperceptibly.

"Who is this?" He turned to me, a note of surprise in his voice.

"Selene Frostveil. She's my trainee from the Mooncourt." I kept my tone neutral. "Going forward, she'll be handling the council records."

He considered this for a moment, then nodded, his voice casual. "That works. No need for you to waste your abilities on minor duties like that."

Minor duties.

I laughed quietly to myself.