“Elder,I wish to sever my soul-bond with my mate,Myron Lestrange,”Savina said,standing before the Moon Council’s stone desk.“And I demand a compulsory judgment of exile.”

She placed their bonding sigil and two name-stones upon the table.

The council scribe lifted her head,her silver eyes glinting in surprise.

“Savina of the Nichols bloodline?”she asked uncertainly.“You’re the she-wolf accused of madness by the healer’s circle last moon…the one who charged the Moon Healer with malpractice?”

At once,Savina’s hand clenched into a trembling fist.Her gaze snapped up,eyes flashing with the fury of a wounded beast.

The scribe quickly dropped her eyes and stammered an apology before continuing in a neutral tone.

“My lady,your right to dwell within the Silver Plains was granted through your bond to Lord Myron.If you break that bond,you will lose your claim to this territory and be cast out by the next moon.”

Savina laughed bitterly,her voice sharp as a claw.“I know.But don’t trouble yourselves.The guards won’t need to drive me out—I’ll leave on my own.”

Three moons ago,their cub had fallen ill—his blood had turned dark,his body too weak to heal.Only a blood-soul transfusion could save him.

Yet,on the night of the ceremony,as the healers drew their knives and the cub lay on the altar of life,the chief healer suddenly stepped back.

“I cannot,”she declared coldly.“To lower myself to such crude sorcery would stain my hands.”

Because of her refusal,their cub’s breath faltered.He survived,but he could no longer walk.His spirit was half-trapped between life and death.

Savina had accused the healer—Helene Hester—before the Moon Tribunal.Victory was within reach when Myron himself locked her inside their den.

Standing over her,his tone colder than frost,he said,“I’ve withdrawn the charge.Record a public apology.In return,I’ll summon the best healers from the East to treat our son.”

“If you refuse,”he warned,“I’ll show the Council your madness decree.You’ll never see our cub again.”

She couldn’t comprehend it.They were a family.How could he side with an outsider—against his own blood?

Holding back her rage,Savina lifted her chin.“She crippled our son.She should answer to the Goddess for that!”

Myron frowned,impatient.A moment later,he held up a scroll—the madness decree,already sealed with his crest—and flung it into the pack square for all to see.

Within hours,the clans whispered:Savina,the deranged mate.

Once,Myron would have torn out the throat of anyone who dared mock her.

Now,he stood beside her enemy,helping destroy her.

“Will you apologize or not?”he demanded.

Savina’s claws dug into her palm until blood dripped onto the pale furs,staining them red.

“Myron,”she cried,“after seven years bound by the Moon’s vow,this is how you treat me?”

For a heartbeat,doubt flickered in his eyes.But then it vanished.

He pulled out their cub’s carved likeness and showed it to her.

“I’ll give you one last chance,”he said.“If you truly don’t care for our son,then defy me again.”

The next instant,a vision stone flared to life—showing their cub on his sickbed,his air rune being removed,one by one.

Savina’s voice cracked.“No!Don’t hurt him!I’ll do it—I’ll say what you want!”

And so,when Myron left with the recording of her“apology,”he didn’t even glance back.

Before he could reach the door,Savina grabbed his cloak.“Myron…who is Helene to you?”

His answer fell like thunder.“My first mate.”

It was as if the Goddess herself had frozen her blood.Now she understood why he had defended Helene,why he had ruined her for her.Helene wasn’t just a healer—she was the one he had loved before Savina.

When they met,Myron had been nothing but a broken wolf,abandoned by that same woman for being low-born and powerless.Savina had been the one who stayed,the one who helped him rise from ruin.

She had believed seven years of devotion could thaw his heart.She was wrong.

When the truth finally shattered the last illusion,she didn’t scream or weep.Her calm frightened even herself.

That was how she managed to steal his crest-mark and come to the Moon Council to demand the severing of their bond.

The scribe finally returned her sigils.“Once the one-moon purification ends,”she said,“your bond will be dissolved.”

Savina nodded faintly,then looked down at the torn sigil—their binding mark—and ripped it clean in half.

Love that had rotted,and the wolf who had fouled it—both deserved to burn.

Just as she stepped out of the Moon Hall,a messenger hawk landed beside her with a sealed rune.It carried a message from the trade guild.

“Lady Savina,”the voice rune said,“Lord Lestrange has signed your resignation scroll.But it seems he doesn’t realize it was you who filed it.Shall we tell him?”

“That won’t be necessary,”she replied,her tone quiet but edged.“He’ll know soon enough.”

When the purification moon ends—he’ll know everything.

Even on the night of their cub’s ceremony,Savina had already wanted to sever the bond.But Myron refused,threatening to send their son to the Northern Sanctum.

If he could be that heartless,then she would not hesitate to take her son and leave.

After the council’s decree,Savina returned to the trading hall to finish her handover.

She had followed Myron from his days as a nameless rogue to the Alpha of the Ironfang Hold.

She’d sacrificed her own contracts with the merchant clans to stand beside him.

Looking back now,that devotion felt like a cruel joke.

She was nearly done packing when Myron appeared.

Seeing the scrolls in her hands,his brows furrowed—but he forced a gentle tone.

“You’ve been unwell lately.Take a rest for a while,”he murmured.

Then,casually,“Don’t wait for me at the den tonight.I’m escorting Helene.”

For five years,that horse beside him had been hers.Now,it carried another woman.

Looking at the wolf she had loved for seven years,Savina felt a hollow ache.

“Myron,”she asked softly,“will you truly ignore what she did to our cub?”

His gaze lowered.“What’s done is done,Savina.You can’t drag the living to the grave for the dead.That’s not fair.”

Her vision burned.

“Fair?”she echoed.“Was it fair when you branded me mad to protect her?

Was it fair when you traded justice for our cub’s life—just to shield your first love?

And me?I walked through every storm beside you,and now you bring her home to our den.Tell me,Myron—where’s the fairness in that?”

Her voice rose,echoing through the hall.Wolves outside stopped to listen.

Myron’s eyes darkened.He seized her wrist harshly.

“Enough,”he growled.“You want to challenge me,do it in private.Don’t shame yourself here.”

He flung her aside.She hit the edge of the stone table,her head bursting with pain.

He reached to steady her,but before he could,Helene entered and threw herself into his arms.

“Oh,Myron,”she purred,“I lost my footing.Forgive me.”

Instantly,his anger vanished.“It’s fine,”he said softly.“I’ll have the servants brew your favorite draught tonight.”

They flirted openly,right before Savina’s eyes.

Biting through the pain,she rose,gripping the table for balance,and turned to leave.

But as she passed,Helene blocked her path with a bright smile.

“I came to offer you something,Savina,”she said sweetly.“A banner of honor.”

“I’m sorry about your cub.To make amends,I’ve enrolled him in a special healer’s trial.Our circle is testing a new elixir that may restore movement to the crippled.He’s already been taken to the healer caves.It’s…a great service to the pack.”

Her smile widened.“Your son brings glory to his mother—even in his condition.”

Then she handed Savina a silk banner embroidered with gold runes.“This is from the healer circle.Their way of thanking you.”

Savina’s tears broke free.Her precious cub—paralyzed,suffering—had become Helene’s experiment.

“Wretch!”she roared,striking at her.

But before her hand could reach Helene,Myron caught her wrist.

“That’s enough!”he snapped.“Helene came with goodwill,and you repay her with this madness?”

His voice was sharp as a lash.“Continue this,and I will dissolve our bond myself!”

He turned away,wrapping his arm protectively around Helene’s shoulders.

Watching them leave,Savina crumpled to the floor,sobbing until her breath came in shallow gasps.

When the tears finally ran dry,she pushed herself up,numb and pale.

She climbed to the roof of the trading hall and summoned a spirit raven.

“Dike,”she whispered to the wind,“you once promised me—if ever I became unbound,you’d claim me,with a dowry worth two million moon-stones.”

“Well,one moon from now,I’ll be free,”she said,her voice cold and clear.“Are you still keeping that promise?”

In the highest tower of the Ironcrest fortress,Alpha Dike Fitzsimmons stood before the open balcony,the night wind tugging at his cloak.

Between his fingers,he rolled a string of ancient moon-beads.The cord was frayed,nearly breaking—but he could never bring himself to part with it.

It had been a gift from Savina.

His voice came low,tinged with bitter amusement.

“Back then,you were willing to sell every estate your bloodline owned,just to help that wolf rise from nothing.And afterward,you stayed by his side—content to be his nameless shadow.”

His tone hardened,cold as obsidian.

“I told you long ago,Myron Lestrange brings ruin,not peace.Walk beside him,and one day you’ll bleed for it.”

The wind swept down from the northern cliffs,carrying frost across Savina’s fur-lined cloak.She shivered and pulled it tighter around her shoulders,letting out a soft,bitter laugh.

“You were right,”she murmured.“I was blind then.But now…now,I finally see.”

Her breath caught.Then she asked quietly,“You once told me,no matter what happens—if I ever need your help—I could call upon you.Does that vow still stand?”

Silence hung heavy across the bondstone that linked them.

With each passing heartbeat,her chest grew colder.She didn’t blame him.The fault was hers.

Taking a slow breath,she whispered,“Forgive me.I shouldn’t have asked.”

She was about to release the bond when Dike’s voice cut through the silence,deep and sharp.

“Savina,I let you go once before.But now that you’ve called me again—I won’t let you walk away a second time.”

His tone dropped to a growl.

“Break your bond with Myron.When the next moon wanes,I’ll come for you myself.”

He paused,his voice lower,colder.

“Remember this,Savina.If you become mine,I could only be widowed—never abandoned.”

Before she could reply,the bondstone flickered dark.

The night wind lashed her face.She gave a faint,broken laugh.

Years ago,Dike had been the youngest Alpha to ever rise from the trade packs—a prodigy of the Moon Market,feared by elders and courted by clans.

For three years,he had pursued her,his patience unwavering.

Her heart had nearly yielded…until Myron appeared.

Back then,she had been a rising strategist among the merchant wolves,her name whispered across the continent.When she found Myron—wounded,discarded,desperate—she had pitied him.

One act of mercy became another.Pity turned to care.Care turned to love.

By the time she realized what she’d done,she’d already cast Dike aside.

Now,under the pale light of the moon,she swore that by the end of this moon cycle,she would settle everything—once and for all.

When she returned to her den,the first thing she did was summon her kin from the neighboring clan.

“Find my cub,”she ordered.“Whatever it takes—trace him from the healers’caves to wherever Myron has hidden him.”

Then she climbed to her sleeping chamber and began to pack.

Every relic Myron had ever gifted her—necklaces,carved stones,scrolls of promise—she wrapped and placed into wooden boxes.

Each piece was listed through the traders’exchange,one by one,until all of it was spoken for.

Just as she was moving the last box toward the door,Myron entered.

His eyes narrowed the moment he saw the luggage.His tone dripped disdain.

“Running again?”he scoffed.“You’re no longer a young wolf,Savina.I’ve no time to soothe your tantrums.”

He crossed his arms,the arrogance of an Alpha in his posture.

“If you can endure this life,stay.If not,leave.But the cub remains with me.Don’t even think of taking him.”

He said it with complete certainty,as though he believed she no longer had claws to fight back.To him,she was no longer the sharp,fierce wolf who once ruled the Iron Markets—just his tamed mate in a gilded den.

Savina laughed softly,though her heart ached.

This was the male she had loved for seven years.

If love could rot so completely,could family do the same?Could a father truly discard his own blood without shame?

Her hands curled into fists.She raised her head,her voice trembling but strong.

“Myron,I’ll ask you once more—will you truly not save our cub?Will you let him remain in that healer’s cave,trapped between pain and death?”

Myron’s expression darkened.His tone was calm,but sharp enough to cut.

“Must you always imagine horrors,Savina?Helene told me the healers’cave is for his recovery.He’s safe there.”

His frown deepened,annoyance replacing reason.

“Tell me—are you truly worried for the cub,or are you just jealous of Helene and looking for another fight?”

The light in Savina’s eyes dimmed.Her heart froze solid.

Even now,he thought it was jealousy.

He truly didn’t know that Helene had deceived him.

Savina had already learned the truth—none of the cubs taken into that healer’s cave had ever returned alive.

Her lips parted,desperate to warn him.

“Myron,Helene lied to—”

A sudden sound from the hall cut her off.

Myron’s face changed instantly.Panic flickered through his eyes as he rushed out.

When Savina followed,she saw him kneeling beside Helene,his hands trembling as he wiped a droplet of blood from her lip.

She had bitten herself on a piece of fruit.That was all.

Yet Myron called for the house healer,his voice frantic.

He didn’t even notice Savina standing there—nor the blood dripping from her own hand.

Her chest felt as though it would burst.

Then his voice came again,colder this time.

“Helene just returned from the Northern Courts.She has nowhere to stay,so she’ll live here for now.”

Before Savina could speak,Helene lowered her gaze demurely.

“Myron,that’s unwise,”she said softly.“Savina dislikes me.I’d hate to make her uncomfortable.”

Before Savina could answer,Myron’s tone sliced through the air.

“This is my den.If she’s unhappy,she can leave.”

Savina froze.

This den—this home—had been hers.He had once told her he built it for them.

Helene smiled sweetly then,eyes glinting like sharpened glass.She pointed at the pendant hanging from Savina’s throat.

“That moonstone you’re wearing—it’s lovely.I want it.”

Before Savina could even speak,Myron turned toward her,his tone firm and final.

“Savina,”he commanded coldly,“take it off.Give it to Helene.”

When they first built the hold together,Savina stayed up night after night to aid Myron;the sleepless moons left her with a lingering ailment and a fragile body.

The pendant at her throat was a ward he had begged from the Moon Shrine—he had knelt three times upon cold stone,asking the Goddess for pardon,just to pray for her safety.He’d said it would keep her from harm.

But now,the one Myron wished to shelter was Helene,and Savina no longer wanted the charm.

Generously,she unclasped the safety talisman from her own neck and placed it in Helene’s palm.

Myron’s face tightened.He knew Savina despised Helene,and that pendant had rested over Savina’s heart for seven years;she had never once removed it.He had expected her to refuse.He had not expected her to yield so easily.

That loss of control unsettled him.He frowned,voice turning sharp.“You always said that pendant was the most precious thing you had.Why give it away so easily this time?”

Savina lifted her head and met his gaze,calm as still water.She returned his question with one of her own.“Wasn’t it you who told me to give it to her?Am I making you unhappy by obeying?”

Her cool teasing stole the words from Myron’s mouth.He had no reply.

After handing the pendant over,Savina turned and left.

All day,she kept herself relentlessly busy,never pausing.

Myron convinced himself her generosity was a show;he believed she would come seeking him within half a day.But when evening fell,she had not approached him once.Instead,she had servants summon him to the meal hall.

Savina had prepared three dishes and a broth—simple,measured,the kind of quiet household grace a stranger might practice.She was already seated when Helene arrived.

“Eat,”Savina said,coldly.

Upon the table were the kinds of foods Dike favored—fire-pepper stews and seared meats.

Savina was leaving at moon’s end;now was the perfect time to practice.

Myron,blind to that intent,only supposed she had cooked to please him.The thought eased his unsettled heart.

Helene sat.Myron kept filling her bowl,even tearing meat for her with his own hands.

Savina’s arm tensed—once,he had often done that for her,but now,he no longer did.

After a few bites,the spice made Myron’s brow furrow.“You know my stomach is delicate.I don’t like fiery dishes.Why make so many tonight?”

Savina glanced at him.Dike liked spice;these plates were meant for practice,not for Myron.

Myron was eating them only because Savina refused to waste food.The explanation rose to her lips,but Helene spoke first.

“Myron,don’t blame her,”Helene murmured.“After all,you two aren’t childhood wolves.How would she know every like and dislike?Don’t worry;I’ll make other dishes for you.”With that,she tugged him toward the hearth.

She chopped;Myron hovered,fearful she might nick a finger,so he took the knife.She guided from behind while he stirred the iron pan,afraid hot oil might kiss her skin.

Savina watched,a little dazed.Once,she had imagined being at the hearth like that with Myron—cooking together—but he had always said he had no time.

Now she understood:it wasn’t that he had no time;it was that the wolf had changed.

Savina rose to leave,unwilling to remain,but when she turned,the dishes were already carried out.Myron’s voice cracked like a whip.

“Stop.Our guest just finished cooking.What do you mean by rising and pulling a face?Sit.”

Savina clenched her fists,ready to refuse.Helene leaned close and breathed a threat into her ear,soft and venomous.

“If you don’t behave,I’ll have people hurt your cub.”

Savina’s eyes went shockingly red in an instant.For her child,she sat back down.

Across from Myron and Helene,she watched them—his attentive hands,the way he fed her again and again—and felt a sharp ache spear her chest.

Myron kept spooning food into Helene’s bowl;Helene said,deliberately loud,“Savina,you’re not eating.Do you dislike my cooking?Myron told me you aren’t picky.Could it be that…you simply don’t like me?”

Myron’s gaze hardened.“Savina,Helene made these with her own hands.Don’t be ungrateful.”

Savina looked over the table and laughed,brittle and low.She was allergic to most of these foods.Apparently,even Myron had forgotten.

When she still didn’t move,he slammed his bone spoon against the table.

She lifted her eyes to his.“I can eat,”she said quietly.“But in exchange,let me see my son.”

At first,he meant to refuse;Helene had told him the healer’s cave forbade outsiders.

But when he met Savina’s eyes,he could not push the denial past his tongue.At last he said,“Fine.I agree.”

Savina picked at the dishes and forced them down.Not long after,a rash bloomed across her skin—angry and red.

Had Myron cared for her even a little,he would have noticed the change in her breath,the heat in her cheeks.But his attention never left Helene.

So stark,the difference between being loved and not.

That night,Savina’s reaction worsened.She went to find an anti-rash draught.When she reached the stairway,Helene stood there already,arms full of small vials.

As Savina approached,Helene sneered.“You.I don’t like you.Myron is mine,yet you bore his cub.”

“You,or that cub?You both deserve to die.”With that,Helene pulled the corks and poured every vial into the waste basin,flushing them away with a pitcher of water.

Savina’s hand twitched,ready to teach her a lesson—but the image of her son,bound to a healer’s pallet,held her in place.She turned to leave.

Helene wasn’t finished.She stepped in front of Savina and flung a stack of illusion-slates at her—images of Alonzo being abused.

In the visions,the boy’s limbs were bound;treatments showed healers driving needles and bone awls again and again into tender flesh.

Blood glistened—Savina’s vision filmed scarlet.

Something inside her snapped.She seized Helene’s throat with both hands and hissed,“Bitch!Lay a finger on my cub and I’ll tear out your throat!”

Before she could squeeze,Myron lunged,shoving Savina away,then struck her hard across the face.“Savina,you’re hurting Helene again!”

The blow stunned her;her head rang.In all these years,he had never hit her—until now.

He didn’t spare a glance for the torn skin along her arms;all his concern fastened on Helene.He swept the woman into his embrace and murmured,“Helene,I’m sorry you suffered this.I’ll take you away.”

Passing by Savina,he shoved her aside.She crashed into a side table;her shoulder struck wood,and her arm refused to lift.

Myron did not offer a single word.He turned and left.

When she tried to move the injured arm,pain speared to the bone.

The servants,unable to bear it,stepped forward.“My lady,you’re badly hurt.Shall we summon the healer?”

She managed a bitter smile.“No need.I don’t require one.”

She forced herself upright and crawled back to her chamber.The first thing she did was press her palm to the bondstone.

“Dike,”she said,voice tight,“I know you have wolves in this land.Help me shorten the purification—I want the severing in seven days.”