Elana POV:

I woke to the smell of antiseptic and rain. Private clinic. Not the Pack hospital.

"You're awake."

Ayla, a warrior Beta and the only friend I had left, sat in the chair. Her face was grim.

I tried to sit up. My body felt hollow. Scooped out.

"The baby?" My voice was sandpaper.

Ayla looked at her hands. "I'm sorry, Elana. The trauma... the impact. There was nothing they could do."

I stared at the ceiling. No tears. I was past tears.

"Where is he?"

"Emilio?" Ayla scoffed. "He called to check if the 'PR situation' was contained. He paid the bill. He didn't come."

"Good."

I swung my legs out of bed. The room tilted.

"Elana, lay down!"

"I've been laying down for five years, Ayla." I found my clothes in the closet. "Drive me to Hayden's apartment."

"You want to fight her now?"

"No. I'm going to surrender."

Hayden's penthouse was nicer than the main house.

I bypassed the doorman with Ayla's badge. Hayden opened the door in a silk robe, sneering when she saw me.

"You. I thought you were still licking your wounds."

"Let me in."

I walked past her. The living room was littered with expensive toys.

"Where is Emilio?"

"Office. Cleaning up your mess from the gala."

I pulled the folder from my bag. The 'tax papers' Gary had drafted.

I threw it on the coffee table.

"Get him to sign this."

Hayden laughed. "Why would I help you?"

"Because this document contains a clause that dissolves the Mate Bond," I said. "If he signs this, I'm gone. Legally. Spiritually. Forever."

Hayden froze. She snatched up the papers, scanning the dense text.

"He won't sign a rejection. His honor..."

"Tell him it's the liability waiver for the accident," I said. "Tell him legal needs it to stop me from suing the Pack for the miscarriage. He'll sign anything to protect the stock price."

Hayden's eyes glittered. Greed. Pure, unadulterated greed.

"You're selling your mate bond for... what?"

"Freedom."

"Fine," she said. "I'll get it signed tonight. But if I see your face again, I'll have the rogues hunt you down."

"Don't worry," I said, turning to the door. "Elana of Moonstone died on that ballroom floor."

I walked out.

In the elevator, I placed a hand on my flat, empty stomach.

Goodbye, Emilio. You didn't just kill our child. You killed the only person who ever gave a damn about you.

Inside me, the void where the baby had been began to fill with something else. Something cold. Something ancient.

Elana POV:

The guest room bed smelled of dust.

I lay awake, listening.

The front door slammed. Stumbling footsteps. Glass breaking.

Emilio was home, and he was drunk.

My wolf let out a low, warning growl.

The door burst open. Emilio swayed in the frame, tie undone, reeking of scotch and panic.

"Elana."

He stumbled toward the bed. I pulled the duvet up.

"You're not in the nest," he slurred. "Why aren't you in the nest?"

"There is no nest, Emilio. I destroyed it."

He blinked, amber eyes unfocused. He sat on the edge of the bed, reaching for my face. "The bond... it feels quiet. Why can't I feel you?"

He was sensing the void. The rotting connection.

I flinched away. "Don't."

His eyes flashed gold. Rejection triggered his instinct.

"I am your Alpha," he growled. "Do not turn away."

"You're drunk. Go to sleep."

"Come back to our bed." He grabbed my wrist. Hard. "Submit."

The Command slammed into me.

Usually, I'd be flattened. But tonight?

I felt the weight, like a heavy blanket. But inside, my wolf stood up. A strange, white heat flared in my chest, pushing back against the pressure.

I didn't submit. I just sat there, breathing.

Emilio looked confused. The Command failed. He shook his head, blaming the alcohol.

"Elana?" he whispered, sounding scared.

I couldn't show my hand yet. I slumped my shoulders, faking it.

"I'm tired, Emilio. Please. I'm... I'm still bleeding."

The mention of blood penetrated the haze. He recoiled, dropping my wrist.

"Right. Sick. Okay." He stood, swaying. "We fix this tomorrow. Moonstone doesn't break."

He stumbled out.

I waited until I heard snoring.

I crept into the master bedroom. He was passed out fully clothed. His phone was on the nightstand.

Passcode: His birthday. Narcissist.

I opened his messages.

Hayden: [Papers are ready for signature, baby. Legal says it's urgent to stop her from suing. Meet me at the office at 10 AM. I'm bringing champagne to celebrate our future.]

Celebrate.

Less than forty-eight hours after he killed our child.

I deleted the notification.

I wasn't just going to disappear. I was going to hand him the knife and watch him cut his own throat.