Dean had been looking forward to this day for an entire week.
All he wanted was to cut the cake with Thorne.
Even if he had to call him Uncle, that would be enough.
But just as he reaches for the knife, a pale hand rests on Thorne’s wrist.
“Wait.”
Liora’s voice is sweet as syrup—
but each word slices like a blade.
“This isn’t your place,” she says.
Then turns to Thorne, smiling.
“Remember? Pups without blood-mark contracts aren’t recognized.”
My heart stutters.
And I finally understand—
That invitation wasn’t from Thorne.
It was Liora’s trap.
Not to complete some ritual.
But to publicly crush Dean’s last thread of dignity.
I step in front of him, shielding him from their stares.
“Thorne,” I ask, “is this true?”
His eyes flicker.
But still, he speaks.
“…He’s not my son. Clan law places him under a side branch.”
Liora’s smile deepens. Her victory blooms.
Whispers explode around us.
“So he’s a bastard?”
“They shouldn’t even be here.”
Dean stands frozen—like a tree ripped from its roots.
Pale. Shaking.
I step forward—no hesitation—and slap the three-tier cake clean off the altar.
Bang.
Frosting and flame scatter across the floor.
The ceremonial lights flicker out.
Chaos.
I sweep the hall with my gaze, voice sharp and cold:
“You think he’s the chosen Alpha? I don’t trust a coward who won’t even claim his own child.”
Liora’s face twitches.
Thorne’s glare darkens.
“Seraphina, that’s enough.”
I pick Dean up.
“I’m done.
This child is mine—and mine alone.
We’re leaving.”
I take a single step—And the guards close in.
They slam me to the floor like prey.
Liora descends the platform slowly, her heels clicking.
“You think the main hall is some place you can walk in and out of?”
Her voice chills.
“Break her. Then throw her out.”
Fists rain down.
Bones crack.
Pain blooms.
Dean screams, rushing toward me.
I shove him away, shielding him with my body.
Through blurry vision, I see Thorne standing far off.
Frozen.
Hesitating.
Then Liora lightly touches his arm.
And he steps back.
That’s when something inside me shatters.
The hits keep coming, but the pain fades beneath something deeper—
Something colder.
The end.
Dean kneels in the blood and cake, sobbing.
He kowtows toward Thorne, his voice breaking:
“Uncle Thorne…We were wrong.
Please don’t hurt Mommy anymore.”
The hall goes silent.
Even Thorne stills.“…What did you just say?”
Dean rises, red-eyed.
His small hands trembling as he pulls the wolf fang necklace from his neck—Thorne’s first gift to him.
He places it gently on the broken cake.
“This was yours. Now I’m giving it back.”
“From today on…We don’t belong to you anymore.”
Then he turns, lifting my bloodied arm over his shoulder.
One step at a time, we walk out.
No one follows. No one stops us.
They’d already erased us long ago.
That night, Thorne doesn’t show up.
The next day, he doesn’t either.
Then comes the news: Valentine’s night. Thorne and Liora will complete the bonding ceremony.
Preparations begin at the sacred mountain.
At home, I light the fire.
Everything he ever gave me—burned.
No keepsakes. No scent.
This was never love.
It wasn’t even a real bond.
It was a curse.
And now—it’s over.
Before dawn, I take Dean’s hand.
We board the carriage to the Northern Territories.
I never look back.
We left. We erased everything.
At that same moment, atop the sacred mountain—
Thorne stands at the altar in gold-trimmed robes, Liora by his side.
Elders chant. Wolves circle. The ritual begins.
He lifts his hand for the vow.
Then—freezes.
Like something yanked violently from his chest.
His wolf soul erupts.
Snarling. Thrashing. Unbound.
Pain tears through his body as the bond collapses from within.
His breath shortens. His hands shake.
Liora turns to him.
He flinches away from her touch.
And then—
The bond snaps. The air leaves his lungs.
His wolf claws to the surface, wild and rabid.
“Where is she?” he chokes.
