He turned and strode away. I clutched the handkerchief, the pain inside me slowly crystallizing into numbness.
The Blackspire Pack—once you entered, escaping was harder than getting in.
When Draven and I had just come of age, he had dragged me—almost desperately—to the Pack Bonding Shrine.
“Lunessa, I’m too weak right now,” he had whispered, eyes red, arms trembling as he held me close. “If we bind early, I can protect you. I swear I’ll give you a real mating ceremony later—grand and radiant—so no one dares disrespect you.”
I believed him. I never imagined that “later” would never come, that the ceremony he promised was never even planned.
And once the mate-mark was etched, escaping became almost impossible.
Leaving Draven wasn’t just ending a bond—it meant breaking the web of power and pack politics ensnaring me.
If I sought separation, the Elder Alpha would rage. Draven himself would never release me—unless I walked away with nothing and he willingly signed the unbinding rites.
But why should I leave with nothing?
I was the one who saved his life when he was bleeding out under the Blood Moon. I was the one who gave up my scholarship at Moonscourt Academy to remain by his side.