Chapter 8
Selene’s POV
Julian Blake pulled the car up
up to the Pack Estate.
As I opened the door to step out, he leaned across the seat, speaking casually:
“Go inside and wait for me, Selene. I’ll take Claire home.”
I paused for half a breath-
then silently turned and walked toward the front door without a word.
Behind me, the car started up again, purring into the distance until its sound faded completely.
I didn’t look back.
Inside the house, the silence felt vast and cold, wrapping around me like a shroud.
I moved mechanically, my body numb, as I began clearing out the remnants of the life we had built together.
I gathered jewelry–bracelets, necklaces, hairpins, brooches.
Most of them had been gifts from Julian.
Each piece a token once heavy with promises now broken.
I dropped them into a plain wooden box without hesitation.
Then my gaze lifted to the pale violet dreamcatcher hanging above the bed.
It had been Julian’s idea.
The first year after we bonded, when nightmares plagued me every night, he had crafted it by hand, whispering,
“With this dreamcatcher, my little wolf will sleep peacefully again.”
I had clung to it once, believing in its power, in him.
Now, I stood on the bed, reached up, and tore it down.
”
The soft chime of beads hitting the floor echoed like a death knell in the empty room.
W
I tossed it into the box with the rest.
As I sorted through the closet, my hands brushed against a worn leather–bound album. Photographs spilled out-
ོ ༄ རྗ འོ
laughter frozen in glossy snapshots: birthdays, festivals, stolen afternoons where I had been foolish enough to believe we were happy.
I closed the album sharply and threw it into the box without opening another
And finally, there it was
nestled in a velvet case, the last relic of my delusion.
The Mate Ring.
Th
page.
The one he had slipped onto my finger under the silver glow of the moon, promising,
“I will protect you, cherish you, until the end of my days.”
My fingers trembled slightly as I lifted it.
The metal felt colder than ice.
Islid the ring off, the bond it represented fraying like old cloth.
My wolf whimpered deep inside me, a hollow, keening sound of mourning.
We had severed ourselves from our Alpha.
And it hurt.
Chapter 8
It hurt worse than any physical wound.
By the time I finished, the sky outside had darkened completely.
The house looked unfamiliar-
stripped bare of everything that once made it a home.
Even the air smelled different.
Duller.
Hollow.
As if my scent had already begun to vanish from these walls.
Julian returned not long after.
He walked inside, glanced around, and frowned.
“You threw out a lot of stuff?” he asked, confused. “The house feels… emptier.”
I smiled faintly, arranging my expression carefully.
“Just clearing out things that didn’t belong anymore,” I said.
Including myself.
He didn’t seem to notice the double meaning.
Instead, he dropped to one knee and pressed his ear against my abdomen, a habit he’d formed early in the pregnancy.
After a few moments, he frowned.
“I can’t hear the pup’s heartbeat tonight,” he said, puzzled.
I said nothing.
What was there to say?
The heartbeat he strained to hear had been silenced weeks ago.
Lost,
along with the last fragile threads of the Mate Bond.
But he, wrapped in his illusions, never sensed it.
When I didn’t answer, Julian merely shrugged it off and rose to hug me tightly.
“Selene,” he murmured, “there’s nothing between Claire and me.
I gave her the house because it was practical, nothing more.
As for the totem pendant–I’ll prepare another gift for her and get it back.
I promise.”
His voice was warm, soothing.
As if promises meant anything anymore.
As if trust could be bartered back with pretty words.
He kissed my temple gently.
“I haven’t tucked you and our pup into bed for a long time,” he said. “Let me do it tonight, okay?”
didn’t resist when he pulled me toward the bedroom.
Not because I believed him.
But because there was no more fight left in me.
The moment we stepped inside, his phone buzzed urgently. Chapter 8
Julian glanced at it, checked the screen, and frowned.
“I have to go,” he said quickly, already typing out a response.
“Something urgent at the Syndicate Office. You get some rest. I’ll be back soon.”
He kissed my forehead-
and then he was gone.
The door swung closed behind him with a quiet click.
I stood there in the empty room, the silence pressing against my ears like a living thing.
My hand drifted to my chest, where the bond between us used to hum warmly through my veins.
There was nothing now.
Just an empty ache.
Just a broken chain.
And for the first time since that terrible night,
I realized:
I wasn’t just alone.
I was free.
