David POV:

I watched her walk away from him, her head held high, her spine forged of unyielding steel.

My Ellie. My White Wolf.

We stepped out into the cool night air, leaving the suffocating atmosphere of the Silver Moon Pack house behind. The heavy oak doors thudded shut, severing the noise of the party, and only then did I saw her shoulders slump just a fraction.

"Are you okay?" I asked, tucking her into my side.

She looked up at me, her grey eyes shimmering with unshed tears. They were not tears of sadness, but of relief.

"I'm free," she whispered, the words catching in her throat. "I really am free."

We walked to the edge of the territory, where a sheer cliff overlooked the vast, undulating forest. The moon was full, hanging low and heavy, bathing the world in silver light. It was pristine.

I stopped and turned her to face me. "Ellie, you know I’ve waited. I would wait a hundred years for you."

"I know," she smiled, placing her hands on my chest, her palms warm against my racing heart.

"But seeing him touch you..." A growl rumbled in my chest, involuntary and possessive, vibrating against her fingertips. "It nearly drove my wolf insane. I need the world to know. I need *him* to know."

Ellie’s expression softened. She reached up and unbuttoned the collar of her shirt, exposing the smooth, pale skin of her neck—the junction where shoulder met throat. The marking spot.

"Make me yours, David," she said, her voice steady and sure. "Fully. Irrevocably."

My heart pounded against my ribs like a war drum. "Are you sure?"

"I choose you," she said. "Not because of fate. Not because of a bond. But because you saved me. Because you love me."

I didn't need to hear another word.

I leaned down, my lips grazing the sensitive skin over her scent gland. She smelled like Winter Frost and Lilac—the scent of home, crisp and intoxicating.

"I love you, Ellie," I murmured against her skin.

My canines elongated, sharp and aching with need. I felt the primal urge take over. With a swift, claiming motion, I sank my teeth into her neck.

Ellie gasped, her nails digging into my shoulders to anchor herself.

It was a primitive, searing connection. My venom flowed into her, mixing with her blood, binding our souls together in a way that could never be undone.

*Mine,* my wolf roared in triumph.

*Yours,* her wolf answered.

*

Marcus POV:

I stood in the middle of the ballroom, staring at the check in my hand—the settlement she had left behind. The music had started again, but it sounded distorted, distant, like I was underwater.

*She's gone. She's really gone.*

Chloe was clinging to my arm, chattering about how rude Ellie was, but her voice was like a mosquito buzzing in my ear—irrelevant, annoying noise.

Suddenly, a pain unlike anything I had ever felt exploded in my chest.

"ARGH!"

I dropped to my knees, clutching my heart. It felt like a branding iron was being pressed directly onto my soul, searing the tissue of my very existence.

"Marcus! What is it?" Chloe shrieked.

I couldn't breathe. The connection—the frayed, broken remnants of the bond I had with Ellie—was being incinerated. I felt it. I felt *him*.

Another Alpha. Biting her. Claiming her.

"NO!" I roared, my vision turning blood-red.

The Marking. She was being Marked.

My wolf went berserk. He clawed at the inside of my mind, howling in agony and rage. *OUR MATE! HE IS TAKING OUR MATE!*

I shoved Chloe aside, sending her sprawling across the floor. I didn't care. I didn't care about the guests. I didn't care about the pack.

I shifted.

My clothes shredded as my massive brown wolf burst forth, bones cracking and reshaping in milliseconds. I crashed through the double doors, sprinting towards the forest, towards the scent of Winter Frost that was being tainted by Earth and Pine.

I found them on the cliff edge.

David was holding her. His face was buried in her neck. Fresh blood trickled down her pale skin, glistening in the moonlight.

The Mark was there. Angry. Red. Permanent.

I howled, a sound of pure, unadulterated misery and rage. I launched myself at David.

David looked up. His eyes were glowing neon blue. He didn't look afraid. He looked annoyed.

He gently pushed Ellie behind him and met my charge mid-air.

We collided with the force of two freight trains. Teeth snapped, claws tore. But I was fighting out of desperation; he was fighting out of calculated protective instinct.

He was stronger. Much stronger.

David grabbed me by the scruff of my neck and slammed me into the ground. The impact knocked the breath out of me, rattling my teeth. He pinned me down, his jaws inches from my throat, a growl rumbling deep in his chest like thunder.

*Stop,* Ellie’s voice cut through the air.

I froze. I looked up.

She stood over us. Her hand was touching the fresh bite mark on her neck. She looked at me not with hate, but with pity.

"It's done, Marcus," she said. "Go home."

David released me and stepped back, wrapping an arm around Ellie's waist, pulling her flush against him. The sight of his hand on her, claiming her, broke whatever was left of my spirit.

I lay in the dirt, panting, bleeding, and utterly alone. The Soul's Peace was gone forever.

Marcus POV

Another bottle of whiskey shattered against the wall, its amber contents exploding to join the pile of glass that already littered the Alpha’s office.

Three days.

It had been three days since the wedding—since the Marking.

I hadn't showered. I hadn't eaten. I sat entombed in the dark, drinking until I passed out, hoping to drown the screaming of my wolf. But the screaming had stopped, and the silence in my head was infinitely worse. The bond wasn't just broken; it had been ripped out, leaving a gaping, festering wound in my soul.

"Marcus?"

The door creaked open. It was Richard, the Pack Elder.

"Get out," I growled, my voice rasping like sandpaper.

"We have a problem, Alpha," Richard said, his voice stern. He didn't bow. He didn't offer the respect my title demanded, because I was no longer commanding it. "The patrols haven't been assigned for two days. Rogues have been spotted near the northern border. The pack is nervous."

"Let the Betas handle it," I muttered, waving my hand dismissively as I reached blindly for another bottle.

"The Betas are looking to *you*!" Richard snapped, stepping fully into the room. "Look at yourself! You are an Alpha! Act like one!"

"I lost her, Richard," I whispered, the fight draining out of me like blood from a severed vein. "I rejected her because I thought she was weak. Because I thought she was a nobody."

I laughed bitterly, the sound sharp and jagged in the quiet room. "She's a White Wolf. Do you know how rare that is? And she’s with *him* now."

"You made a choice," Richard said coldly. "Now you must live with it. Or die with it. But do not drag this pack down with you."

He threw a folder onto my desk. It slid across the mahogany surface, hitting my hand. "And you should look at this. It concerns your 'fiancée'."

I frowned, my fingers trembling as I picked up the folder. Inside were photos. Bank statements.

Chloe.

There were pictures of her meeting with Rogues. Transfers of pack funds into a private account. And a diary entry... a copy of a page.

*The idiot actually believes I love him. As soon as I'm Luna, I'll drain the accounts and leave. He's so obsessed with status he can't see what's right in front of him.*

I stared at the paper. The words swam before my eyes, then sharpened into crystal clarity.

I had thrown away my Fated Mate, a White Wolf, for this? For a leech?

A cold fury began to rise in my gut. It wasn't the hot, blinding rage of the Marking. This was icy. Calculated. Deadly.

I stood up. The room spun, but I steadied myself against the desk.

"Where is she?" I asked.

"In her room," Richard said. "Trying on wedding dresses."

I walked out of the office. The pack members I passed shrank away from me, pressing themselves against the corridor walls. I smelled like stale alcohol and violence.

I kicked open the door to Chloe's room. The wood splintered. She spun around, a silk dress held up to her body, her face flushed with excitement.

"Marcus! Darling, look! Do you think this—"

"Get out," I said quietly.

She blinked, her smile faltering. "What?"

"Get out of my pack. Now."

"You... you can't be serious," she laughed nervously, taking a tentative step forward. "We're getting married next week!"

I threw the folder at her feet. Photos scattered across the floor like autumn leaves. Her face went pale as she recognized the images.

"I gave up everything for you," I said, my voice shaking with restrained violence. "I broke her heart for *you*."

I grabbed a silver letter opener from her vanity desk. The metal burned my skin, searing the flesh, but I squeezed it tight, letting the physical pain distract me from the agony in my soul.

"If you are not off my territory in ten minutes," I said, blood dripping from my hand to stain the carpet, "I will kill you myself."

Chloe didn't argue. She saw the look in my eyes—the void where my humanity used to be. She grabbed her purse and ran.

I stood alone in the room. It was quiet.

I looked at my bleeding hand. The silver burn was turning black.

I deserved this pain. I deserved worse.

I walked to the window and looked out towards the south. Towards the Blood Rose Pack.

I knew I had lost her. I knew she belonged to another. But the pull... it wasn't gone. It was just twisted into something agonizing.

I couldn't stay here. I couldn't be the Alpha this pack needed. Not while my soul was bleeding out.

I turned to Richard, who was standing in the doorway, watching me with a mix of pity and resignation.

"Take over," I said.

"Marcus?"

"I'm leaving," I said, grabbing my coat. "I have to find... I have to try."

"She is Marked, Marcus. There is no going back."

"I know," I said, touching the empty spot on my chest where the bond used to be. "But I have to see her one last time. I have to beg for forgiveness. Even if she spits in my face."

I walked out of the Pack house, leaving my title, my home, and my dignity behind. I was just a man now. A man walking into his own funeral pyre.

As I crossed the border, the wind shifted. For a brief, cruel second, I caught the scent of Winter Frost. It was faint, mocking me. I followed it into the darkness, unaware that I wasn't just walking toward my past, but toward a secret Ellie had kept—a secret that would shatter whatever was left of my heart.

Ellie POV

The chisel glided against the marble with a rhythmic precision. *Tap. Tap. Scrape.*

Fine stone dust danced in the sunbeams filtering through the skylight of my studio, settling over the room like a soft, white veil. It coated my hands, turning them as pale as my White Wolf fur.

"You've been at it for hours, *amore*."

David’s voice wrapped around me, warm and grounding. I turned to see him leaning against the doorframe, holding a tray with water and fresh fruit. His scent—rich Earth and crisp Pine—filled the room, instantly settling the low hum of anxious energy beneath my skin.

"It's almost done," I said, stepping back to critique the sculpture.

It was a wolf breaking out of chains. Not just any wolf. A female, her marble muscles strained against invisible bonds, head thrown back to howl at a moon that wasn't there.

David set the tray down and walked over, wrapping his arms around my waist from behind. He rested his chin on my shoulder, careful not to get dust on his impeccable suit. Being an Alpha meant endless meetings, but he always made time to come here. To just watch me.

"It's powerful," he murmured, his breath tickling my ear. "Just like you."

I leaned back into him, letting his solidity anchor me. The bond between us was a steady, thrumming rhythm. It wasn't the frantic, desperate pull I had felt with Marcus years ago. It was solid. Safe. It was peace.

"My White Wolf is restless today," I admitted, wiping my hands on a rag. "She feels... unsettled. Like something is coming."

David stiffened slightly against my back. "Rogues?"

"No," I shook my head, turning in his arms. "Not danger. Just... sorrow. A deep, echoing sorrow carried on the wind."

He cupped my face, his blue eyes searching mine with intensity. "You are safe here, Ellie. You are my Luna. The pack adores you. Your sculptures are bringing in visitors from packs all over Italy. You have built a life."

"I know," I smiled, reaching up to trace the strong line of his jaw. "And I wouldn't trade it for anything."

He kissed me then, deep and slow. It tasted of strawberries and promise.

But even as I melted into him, that strange feeling persisted. A ghost of a sensation. A memory of a bond that had been severed long ago.

*

Marcus POV

I smelled like a Rogue. I smelled like death.

I hadn't bathed in days. My clothes were torn from tearing through the underbrush. My beard was overgrown, itching against my skin like a constant reminder of my neglect.

I stood on the edge of a public square in a small town near the Blood Rose territory. An art exhibition.

People—humans and wolves alike—were crowding around a display in the center. I shouldn't be here. I was an Alpha without a pack, a man without a mate. But the scent...

I sniffed the air, desperate for another hit. Beneath the smell of roasted coffee and cloying perfume, there was a faint trace. Winter Frost.

It was a siren song I couldn't resist.

It led me to a statue.

I pushed through the crowd, ignoring their grumbles and the way they wrinkled their noses at my filth. When I saw it, my breath hitched in my throat.

It was a marble sculpture of a wolf. The pain etched into the stone eyes was so raw, so visceral, it felt like looking into a mirror. The plaque beneath it read: *Rebirth. Artist: E. Thorne.*

Thorne. She kept my name? Or had she just forgotten to change it?

"Beautiful, isn't it?" a woman next to me said. "The artist is the new Luna of the Blood Rose Pack. They say she is a White Wolf."

The wave hit me, crashing down like a tidal wave. *The new Luna.*

I turned and ran.

I ran until the town was behind me, shifting into my wolf form as soon as I hit the tree line. Bones cracked and reshaped. My brown fur was matted, my ribs showing through my skin.

I crossed the border into Blood Rose territory. I knew it was suicide. David would kill me if he caught me. But I had to see her. I had to see her face one more time.

I crept through the shadows of the forest, a ghost haunting the perimeter, following the scent that haunted my dreams. Winter Frost and Lilac.

I found them in a garden behind the main Pack House.

She was sitting on a stone bench, laughing. Her hair was silver-white, shining in the sunlight like spun moonlight. She looked radiant. Healthy. Strong.

And he was there.

David sat on the grass at her feet, looking up at her with an expression of such pure devotion it made my stomach churn with acid. He said something, and she threw her head back, her laughter ringing like bells.

She reached down and ran her fingers through his hair.

My wolf let out a low, pathetic whine. *That should be us.*

*No,* I thought, the bitterness tasting like bile in my throat. *I threw that away.*

I watched them for an hour. I watched him kiss her hand as if it were a sacred relic. I watched her look at him with eyes that held no shadows, no pain.

She was happy.

And that hurt more than the Rejection ever could.