Inside the small bathroom, my breaths came in short, shallow bursts. But with the last of my strength, I forced myself to stand, trembling.

In the cracked mirror, the reflection that stared back at me was hollow and broken. But my eyes… they burned.

I pushed the bathroom door open, wrapping my ruined dress tightly around me.

Gareth’s body stiffened. He was standing beside Gwyneth, arms crossed, jaw tight, watching. Waiting.

For a moment, I saw a flicker of doubt in his sharp wolfish eyes. What if she didn’t mean for the wardrobe accident to happen?

No. That couldn’t be true.

“Lady Freya.”

I walked past him without a word. Then, with deliberate motion, I pulled off his ink-black jacket and tossed it into the large trash bin at the side. Right in front of him.

Silence cracked. Gareth’s mouth opened slightly, a flash of something.

Was it confusion? Regret? Annoyance?

But it defintely crossed his face.

I didn’t care.

“Lady Freya,” Alwin, a Beta who had served the castle since my childhood, rushed forward, worry in his voice.

“What happens to insolent servants who gossip behind their masters?” I asked coldly.

“They… are punished, Lady Freya?”

I didn’t answer. My heart wasn’t calm. It was burning with hurt, rage, and sorrow.

I turned back to him. Without hesitation, my hand shot forward.

CRACK.

The sound of my palm meeting Gareth’s cheek cut through the hallway like a gunshot, louder than the music from the ballroom, louder than Gwyneth’s dramatic gasp.

Gareth didn’t flinch. He froze, the red mark blooming across his skin. His jaw clenched. I leaned closer, my voice low, shaking, venomous.

“Who the hell are you to decide my worth?” I hissed.

“Who gave you the right to judge me and then call me… that?”

My voice broke, but I didn’t.

“A whore? Really? After everything I gave you… after every time I protected you… you humiliate me like this?”

For a moment, his eyes shifted, a flicker of guilt passing across them. He wanted to speak, but I wasn’t done.

“Out of everyone who has ever hurt me… you?” I whispered bitterly, stepping closer, breath trembling.

“You are my greatest regret. Even a dog doesn’t bite the hand that feeds it. But you… you are worse than a dog.”

“This house was never safe. The woman you chase… you don’t even know her. Yet you follow her blindly, a fool who will never understand until she drags you into hell herself!”

Gareth’s cold, indifferent eyes widened slightly, shock flashing across them as he muttered.

“Freya…”

I turned away and left.

Inside my room, finally alone, I collapsed. Trembling, I relived every moment of humiliation. My mind spun like a storm.

With shaky fingers, I looked to see if there were terrible news about today’s event or about my exposed body. I braced myself to be mocked by everyone.

Then, something happened.

There was an anonymous letter.

[No pictures. No traces. No reports… Not a single word will leak. Those who wronged you today—remember their faces. They will pay their debt in blood.]

My tears paused. My eyes widened as I read it again. I hurriedly checked for more rumors. But the rumors I heard were that a farmhouse close to our pack went bankrupt, a healer got arrested for sexual assault, and the rumor about Gwyneth lost 10 millions golden coins.

Not a single mention of today’s incident. The people who had seen my incident were either imprisoned for serious crimes… or gone. I took a sharp breath.

The anonymous helper… it had to be someone from the Blackwing Pack.

Auron Blackwing.

But why?

The next morning arrived in heavy silence. Every servant in the Silverfang Pack house already knew what had happened last night. No one dared look at me, and no one knew how to speak to me.

I sat at the long breakfast table, flipping through a simple magazine, eating slowly. The air felt cold.

“The Blackwing Pack said they will not wait anymore. In three hours, they will send someone to collect you.”

Just like that, a letter slid across the table toward me. My father had been sitting there for almost half an hour without saying a word, his food untouched.

[The Announcement of Dowries

Lady Freya Silverfang of the Silverfang Pack will be given the following:

50 million golden coins

The Silverfang Pack’s heirlooms

Half of the pack’s castle]

“I—I didn’t know you were going to mate Auron Blackwing,” my father said softly. “Your grandmother made everything official this morning. I found out only today.” He swallowed. “Freya… I don’t hate you. If you could just be a little more obedient—”

“I won’t be here anymore to stop you from bringing your mistress into this house,” I cut in coldly. “So go ahead. Bring Gwyneth’s mother home and give her my mother’s place.”

My father flinched. My mother’s death was the one subject no one touched, as if she never existed.

“With this, we are no longer father and daughter, Alpha Atlas,” I said quietly.

“I am cutting off all ties. Live well with your mistress and your other pup.”

My voice sliced through the room. His mouth opened, then shut again. His shoulders tightened, but he didn’t try to argue.

At the hallway outside my room, Gareth stood like a shadow. He was watching, waiting. Normally, a slap to the Alpha of the Grey Wind Pack would make him furious. But after what I said yesterday, even he knew he had crossed a line. He took that slap without a word.

His eyes narrowed as he took in the boxes, the folded clothes, the empty perfume stands. When he noticed my old painted portraits thrown into the trash beside torn journals, his voice dropped into low frustration.

“Lady Freya, you could have at least told me you were leaving. Now I have to pack everything in a rush.”

I didn’t respond.

“You always do this,” he muttered under his breath. “No warning, no plan. Just running away like the sky is falling. What’s going on, Freya?”

I folded my last scarf and placed it inside the trunk. Then I turned to face him fully.

“I am leaving for a vacation,” I said in a flat voice.

“You don’t have to follow me anymore.”

His brows pulled together, disbelief sharp in his tone.

“What are you talking about?”

He knew about my weak body, my panic attacks, the health issues the healers always warned him about. He knew I was never left alone.

“We have a contract, Freya. It is my duty to stay with you day and night and protect you-”

“And yet you failed,” I said.

“I don’t trust you to protect me anymore. The least you can do is obey my orders.”

Then I handed him a small velvet box tied with a navy ribbon.

“Bring this to Gwyneth,” I said.

He opened the box. His whole body froze like I had struck him again. Inside was the key to the Silverfang Luna’s jewelry chest, the one given to the heiress when she was a pup.

“This chest?” Gareth’s voice cracked with disbelief.

“I remember when we were kids—you said you’d rather die than give it up. You cried when Lady Gwyneth tried to touch it… and now you’re handing it away?”

“I was foolish to think it held any value,” I whispered.

“If Gwyneth likes it so much, she can have it.”

Gareth stared at my bare face, my simple black dress that covered every inch of my skin. No jewels. No red lipstick. Nothing like the confident, fiery woman I used to be.

For a second, just a second, his mask broke. Something uneasy flickered in his eyes, like a warning he didn’t understand.

His gaze dragged over me as if he were staring at a ghost… or watching someone slip out of his hands while standing right in front of him.

“You can send me the location where I have to join you,” he said stiffly.

“I’ll give this to Gwyneth first… then come find you.”

He waited for a response that wasn’t coming.

“Go,” I said quietly.

And he did.

An hour later, I stood in front of the pack cemetery. Behind me, the private carriage that belonged to the Blackwing Pack. It had waited with quiet readiness.

My mother’s picture shone softly on the carved stone. I placed a bunch of blooming red roses on her grave, the color she loved most.

“Mom,” I whispered, tears rolling down my cheeks, “I’m getting mated to the man they call the Dark Alpha and somehow it doesn’t feel as bad as it should.”

I wiped my face.

“I used to think love looked like Gareth. But that was an illusion… and now I’ve thrown it away. From today on, I will choose my own happiness.”

My grandmother tried to contact me through mind-link for five times. As for my father, he tried to contact me seven times. And more than a hundred mind-link from my twin brothers, who always chose Gwyneth over me because I was ‘too strict’.

‘Lady Freya, when are you leaving?’

‘My lady, answer me.’

‘Send me the address.’

A small smile touched my lips. I closed my eyes, breaking off my mind link with them. FInally, I cutting myself free from everything tied to the Silverfang Pack.

The coachman bowed, “Lady, we’re ready for our journey.”

I stepped onto the carriage without hesitation.

Farewell.

I no longer needed Gareth to follow me. I was leaving forever.