Elara POV:
The Pack Healer, an old Beta whose hair was the color of winter frost, finished packing his wooden medicine box.
He regarded me with an expression of profound gravity.
"The shock of the freezing water, combined with the emotional trauma, has caused a severe fracture," the Healer said, his voice low.
He glanced at Aria, who was quietly sipping warm broth from a wooden bowl.
"Her inner wolf has retreated to shield her mind," he explained. "It has entered a state of deep hibernation."
A cold stone seemed to form in the pit of my stomach.
A wolf-kind without their inner wolf was a creature utterly defenseless.
"Will it wake?" I asked, my voice a thready whisper.
"Only time can answer that," the Healer sighed. "But there is another matter. It appears a portion of her memory has been lost."
I looked at Aria.
She remembered me. She remembered Martha.
"Aria," I called out gently. "Do you remember the castle gardens?"
She nodded, a small smile touching her lips. "Yes, Mama. The red roses."
I took a deep breath. "Do you remember... Caleb?"
The moment the name left my lips, Aria let out a piercing scream.
She dropped the bowl, its contents splashing across the blankets, and clutched her head with both hands.
"No! Make the sound stop!" she cried, her small body seized by a violent tremor.
The Healer rushed forward, pressing a cloth steeped in calming herbs to her nose.
"You must not speak that name!" the Healer warned, his eyes wide with alarm. "She has no conscious recollection of her father. But her wolf remembers the pain. The scent triggers what her mind cannot name. That is why she recoils. That is why she cannot bear it."
I stood frozen, the blood turning to ice in my veins.
"Her mind now links him to an unbearable pain," the Healer continued. "To force the memory upon her would risk a schism of the spirit. It could extinguish her life."
The Healer bowed his head and departed, leaving a profound silence in his wake.
I stood listening to the ragged sound of Aria's breathing.
Caleb was still at the Gamma estate.
He had been gone for fifteen days.
He had walled off our Mind-Link, leaving only a cold void where his thoughts should have been.
He did not even know his daughter had nearly perished.
"Martha," I said, my voice hardening to a new temper. "Gather everything in this room that belongs to the Alpha."
Martha hurried to obey.
She pulled a wooden chest from beneath Aria's bed.
Inside were the few, pathetic trinkets Caleb had bestowed upon her over the years.
Aria sat up, her gaze falling upon the contents.
Her eyes locked onto a crude wolf carving, whittled from a piece of bone.
Caleb had made it years ago, botched the legs, and, deeming it unfit for display, had tossed it to Aria as an afterthought.
She used to clutch it in her sleep every night.
Now, Aria stared at it with an expression of pure revulsion.
"It smells of rot and damp earth," Aria said, covering her nose.
She pointed a small, determined finger at the hearth.
"Burn it, Martha," Aria commanded, her tone an uncanny echo of my own.
Martha hesitated, her gaze flickering to me for permission.
"You heard her," I said, my voice like flint.
Martha tossed the bone wolf into the roaring flames.
Aria did not stop there.
"That kite," she pointed. "And the blunted dagger. Throw them all into the fire."
We watched as the flames consumed every last vestige of Caleb in her life.
Martha wrung her hands, her face a mask of terror.
"Luna save us," she whispered. "To destroy an Alpha's gifts... it is an act of treason. The punishment will be severe."
I turned to Martha, my spine straight as a spear.
"He is no father," I said, my voice ringing with a terrible finality. "This is not punishment. It is consequence."
I walked over to the bed and sat beside my daughter.
"We're leaving, Aria," I said gravely. "Are you ready to leave the Silver Moon Pack behind?"
Aria's eyes, which had been so dull, suddenly blazed with light.
She threw her arms around my neck, her small body clinging to mine.
"Yes, Mama! Let us go far away. Just you and me!" she cheered.
Her joy was the final catalyst I required.
I looked at Martha.
"Pack the remainder of my dowry," I commanded. "We depart at dawn tomorrow."
Martha gasped. "But you are Mated to him! Your bond is a sacred vow to the Moon Goddess!"
I reached up and touched the smooth, unblemished skin on my neck where the scar had once been.
"Not for long," I whispered.
I was going to initiate the Rejection.
I was going to break the bond, even if it meant being unmade in the process.
But to do so, I required the sanction of the highest power in our dominion.
Outside the frosted window, a lone wolf howled—a raw, jagged sound that echoed through the dead of night. By this time tomorrow, that call would no longer be mine to answer.
