I thought the worst part of the night was over.
I was wrong.
The kitchen was quiet now, the celebration in the great hall fading into distant music and laughter. Most of the servants had slipped away to sleep, leaving only the soft crackle of the hearth and the faint scent of roasted meat lingering in the air.
I scrubbed the last wooden bowl harder than necessary, trying to drown the chaos in my chest with something simple. Something normal.
Something that didn't hurt.
It didn't work.
Every breath still carried his scent. Every heartbeat still echoed the bond. Every quiet moment replayed his voice asking
Does it hurt?
My hands tightened around the cloth.
Yes.
It hurt enough to break me.
It hurt enough to rebuild me into someone new.
The kitchen door creaked open.
Heavy footsteps followed.
Authority filled the room before the voice even spoke.
"The Alpha has issued an order."
I froze.
Slowly, I turned to face Beta Ronan standing in the doorway. His expression was unreadable, but his presence alone sent a ripple of unease through my chest.
Orders from the Alpha never meant anything good for someone like me.
My voice came out small despite my effort to sound calm. "Yes, Beta?"
His eyes softened for the briefest moment. Pity.
That frightened me more than anger ever could.
"You are to leave the Bloodmoon Pack by sunrise."
The world went silent.
I waited for the words to make sense. For them to rearrange into something less cruel. Something survivable.
They didn't.
"I… leave?" My voice barely existed.
"The Alpha believes your continued presence will create unrest among the pack," Ronan continued, each word careful and measured. "You are to be given supplies and safe passage beyond our territory."
Unrest.
The word tasted bitter.
I understood its real meaning.
Embarrassment.
Mistake.
Problem to be removed.
My chest tightened, the bond pulsing violently as if it sensed the distance about to be forced between us. Panic flickered deep inside me, wild and desperate.
Mate.
My wolf howled in protest.
"You're exiling me," I whispered.
Ronan didn't deny it.
"The Alpha believes it is for the best."
For the best.
Of course he did.
Tears burned behind my eyes, but this time they didn't fall. Something inside me had hardened, a fragile shell forming around the pieces of my heart.
"Does he know what exile means for a rejected mate?" I asked quietly.
Ronan hesitated.
That was answer enough.
Because everyone knew.
A rejected mate without a pack was vulnerable.
Unprotected.
Alone in a world that preyed on weakness.
It was a slow death sentence wrapped in polite words.
My hands stopped shaking.
Strangely, the fear faded first.
Then the sadness.
Until all that