Chapter 68
A parchment scroll, inscribed with ancient glyphs and sealed with wolfsbane wax, fluttered to the cold marble floor of the Blackthorn Pack Hall. Alpha Draven Blackthorn knew what it was; it once belonged to him as well.
The divorce agreement bore his clawmark–fresh, unmistakable, and final.
Gasps echoed like growls through the air as whispers slithered among the high–ranking pack members and noble guests.
“Did Luna Ella Moonfall just renounce the Alpha?“}
“The mate bond… severed?”
Alpha Draven’s silver eyes locked onto the scroll, his pupils narrowing into slits. Each word carved into the ancient paper seemed to sear his flesh like silver.
“No…”
His voice was low, feral.
“She couldn’t have… not after everything.”>
He looked up, his face twisted with disbelief, then down again, his claws extending involuntarily.
His name was unmistakable, branded beside her name with blood and ink.
Then- a sudden movement.
A sharp growl escaped as Alaric, the former pack leader and Alpha Draven’s father, clutched his chest and staggered.”
His aura flared, shaking the air with ancient power, his bones trembling with fury.
The old Beta butler tried to steady him, but Alaric swatted him away with an unholy roar.}
SMACK.
Alaric’s palm struck Draven hard across the face, the sound echoing like thunder in the silence.”
“You ungrateful son!” he bellowed, his voice cracked with age and power. His finger jabbed toward the discarded divorce papers on the floor and the emerald moonstone pendant lying beside it–a symbol of their soulbond, now rejected.”
“Do you even understand what you’ve done?!“}
Draven didn’t flinch. His cheek bloomed red and raw, but pain didn’t reach him. He stared at the divorce papers like they would disappear if he glared hard enough.”
Then came another scent–fear and desperation.}
Freya…}
She rushed forward, her eyes wide, tears tracking down her cheeks. She threw herself between the two alphas. “Please don’t hurt Draven, Alpha Alaric! I–I was the one who upset Luna Ella. She left because of me!“} “You?” Alaric’s voice rumbled like a coming storm. “You dare speak her name, omega filth?“} Alaric growled as he shoved Freya aside like a branch in his path, her scent sour with panic.} Draven caught her before she stumbled off the floor, more out of instinct than affection. That gesture alone drew a savage snarl from Alaric.}
“Foolish boy! You threw away your true mate, your Luna, for this?“>
The entire pack banquet froze, every wolf in the grand hall watching the destruction of their leadership unfold like a prophecy come true. Then–Alaric’s body locked up. His breath hitched. His face flushed crimson before turning deathly pale. He collapsed into a high–backed obsidian chair, his hand clutching his chest like his heart had been ripped out.”
“Alpha Alaric!” the old Beta shouted. “Summon the healers! Call an ambulance–NOW!“}
Before anyone could move, a sharp intake of breath turned the tide.
“Look–look at her belly!” someone hissed.
Every head turned toward Freya, whose thin ceremonial dress did nothing to hide the subtle curve of her lower abdomen.>
“She’s… with a cub.“%
“She’s carrying the Alpha’s pup.”
“No wonder the Luna severed the bond…”
Alpha Draven’s body tensed like a coiled spring, his wolf snarling under his skin. The whispers struck him harder than any blow ever had.” He grabbed Freya’s wrist, his voice a deadly whisper of ice and thunder.
“We’re leaving.“%
“But–Draven, please-” she tried to protest.”
“Now.” He made sure his tone broke no argument.”
He dragged her through the crowd like a rogue prisoner. None dared stop him, though many stepped aside with grimaces of disgust or silent judgment.
“You’re hurting me,” Freya whimpered, her skin reddening under his grip.
He didn’t even blink. His wolf was riding him hard now, thrashing within the cage of his body. The pain of the broken mate bond was still
10:47 AM J
fresh, like claws tearing through his soul.
They piled into the sleek black convoy vehicle.
“Follow the ambulance,” Draven ordered, his voice hoarse, as the vehicle tore through the dark forest roads toward the healer’s de Blacktorn Pack’s hospital.
Outside the private hospital ward, Draven paced like a beast caged. His fingers twitched, claws half–extended, as he redialed! number for the hundredth time.
The number you are calling cannot be reached…
A low growl escaped his throat the moment he heard that cold, mechanical voice again, and this time, it was more merciless than enemy.
Her scent–once the anchor to his sanity–was now gone. Masked. Hidden.
“Draven…” Freya approached her voice a gentle tremble, offering him a steaming cup of wolfsbane–root tea. “You need to calm down… He slapped the cup away, the sound sharp against the sterile stone wall. His eyes burned as he turned on her.
“Go home,” he growled. “Do not show yourself to my father again, he’ll get angrier.”
“B–But-”
“You’ve done enough, just go home.“>
Freya’s lip trembled. Her human side wanted to argue, but her wolf knew better. She swallowed her words and stepped back. Then-
The door to the private hospital ward creaked open.
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