Chapter 3
The year we first formed our mate bond, we encountered an accident during a trip.
Instinctively, I shielded him. When that blade came down, I only felt heat in my abdomen, like something was tearing me apart.
He was the one who carried me into the pack hospital, the one who knelt outside the emergency room, pounding his chest and crying until his voice was raw.
That night, his whole body trembled as he gripped my hand repeatedly, saying, “Lina, I’m sorry. I swear, in this lifetime, having you as my only treasure is enough.”
He spoke so sincerely, cried so heartbreakingly.
After that, I truly never brought up pup again.
But Liliane had given birth to his child.
I typed a message on my phone: [Merrick, I want to break our mate bond.]
Less than half an hour later, the doorbell rang.
Merrick burst through the door, travel-worn. “Lina, don’t be impulsive.”
I didn’t turn around, just put my phone back on the coffee table. “It’s not impulsive. It’s long-overdue clarity.”
He walked over and sat in the single chair across from me, silent for a long time. “She needs time to recover. We agreed that after a month, I’ll give her money and send her to Calverin. The pup will stay home, and she’ll never come back.”
I laughed. “Merrick, do you really think you’ve done nothing wrong?”
He froze.
I looked at him, enunciating each word, “You knew she coveted you, knew she stole your sperm to get pregnant, yet you still gave her hope. You not only indulged her feelings for you but also stayed by her side during delivery. Now you’re willing to send her away?”
He apologized, “I’m sorry, it’s all my fault. But Lina, the child is already born. This is a life—we can’t abandon him.”
“What about me?” I lost control and raised my voice. “Have you thought about me? Don’t you know why I can’t have children? Don’t I deserve to be protected?”
His Adam’s apple bobbed, but he said nothing.
I looked at him, my eyes stinging. “You said she was too weak and needed proper rest. Fine, we could spend money on a hospital or a good postpartum center, or find a nice hotel and hire several nannies. But you refused. She said she only trusted you, and you surrendered, giving up our home and throwing me out. Search your heart—do you really want a child, or do you want to take care of them, mother and son?”
He stared at me, silent to the point of harshness.
Then his phone rang.
He glanced at the screen, hesitated, but still answered.
“Merrick, I feel dizzy, and my wound has reopened. Could you come over?” It was Liliane’s voice, filled with grievance and vulnerability.
Merrick was silent for a few seconds, looking at me, then down at his phone, as if making a difficult decision. “Lina, let me go check on her first. She just gave birth.”
I said nothing, just watched him stand and leave hurriedly.
The moment the door closed, I smiled softly.
No matter how much I cried or pleaded, it couldn’t compare to one phone call from Liliane.
I knew he might never marry Liliane.
But he would be needed by her again and again, have his life disrupted by her again and again.
How much longer could I endure such days if I didn’t break the mate bond? Three months? Three years? A lifetime?
I contacted a lawyer to draft the mating bond dissolution papers.
When I woke up again, my phone was ringing incessantly.
“Lina!” Merrick’s voice roared through the phone. “If you have a problem, come to me!”
Before I could speak, he continued angrily, “Why did you send Liliane those emails reporting her for stealing from the genetic bank? Her postpartum depression is already severe enough! Do you have to drive her to death?”
I was stunned.
I’d never sent those emails, but he convicted me without question—the first time my mate had ever yelled at me.
He shouted, “Lina, the healer says her postpartum emotions are very unstable. If we hadn’t discovered it early last night, she would have committed suicide! A living person—can’t you show some compassion?”
I answered, “Whether you believe it or not, I didn’t do it, and I wouldn’t stoop to such methods.”
“Lina, regardless, please—when she’s discharged, come see her and apologize. Just for my sake. If you come, she’ll be able to let go of her psychological burden…” The man on the phone seemed to be crying, his voice trembling.
I wiped away the tears that had fallen and finally nodded. “Alright.”
There would be no apology, but our relationship did need closure.
