Brexon Ashfend—the mate I once loved—was dead to me.
And if he thought I would walk out of here quietly…
He had no idea what kind of wolf he had just unleashed.
I was dead.
At least, that’s what the pack would believe soon enough.
The severance scroll was still clutched in my hand when I walked out of the Silvermoon Howlers territory for the last time, my neck still burning from Brexon’s claws, my heart nothing but an empty husk.
No warrior tried to stop me. No wolf even looked my way.
I was no longer Luna. No longer a mother. Just another rogue in the brutal world of Alphas and packs.
I tightened my grip on the small satchel—Nyra’s belongings. Her moonstone bracelet, her tiny cloak, the last scent she left behind. Brexon could keep everything else. The rank, the territory, the home we built together.
But he would never erase my daughter.
I walked until my legs ached, replaying everything—the clawing strike, the accusations, the disgust in his glowing eyes. Lyssa’s triumphant smile as she held her bastard pup as if it were royalty.
This wasn’t over.
My hands trembled as I summoned a low-level mindlink request, directing it toward one wolf I trusted.
The link opened.
"Arwen?"