Chapter 8

Elana POV

The healing process was agonizing. Not physically-Mara's poultices and my new, strange healing factor had knitted the bruises and cuts with terrifying speed.

It was the emotional scarring that refused to fade.

I sat on the porch of Silas's cabin, staring at the envelope in my hands. It was crumpled, stained with river water, but the embossed lettering was still legible.

*Zurich Academy of Architecture & Design.*

*Scholarship Offer.*

*Sponsored by the Silver Alps Pack.*

I had rejected this three years ago. For Emilio. For a dream that turned out to be built on quicksand.

"You should go," Silas said, his heavy boots stepping onto the porch. He handed me a mug of hot tea, steam curling into the cool mountain air.

"You can't stay here, Elana. Not with that bloodline waking up. You need teachers. You need the kind of protection a Ranger's shotgun and a wooden cabin can't provide."

"The Silver Alps," I murmured, running my thumb over the seal. "They are the oldest pack in Europe. Traditional. Powerful."

"And far away from Emilio," Mara added, hopping up to sit on the railing, her eyes sharp.

Emilio.

The name still caused a phantom ache in my chest, right where the Bond used to be. But the ache was dulling, calcifying into a cold resolve.

He had declared a victory today. I could feel the ripples of the pack's excitement through the lingering shreds of our connection. He was celebrating. He was likely basking in the adoration.

Probably with her.

While I sat here, wearing borrowed clothes that smelled of pine and sawdust, mourning a child he didn't want.

"You're right," I said, standing up. I gripped the railing until the wood creaked under my hand. "I need to go."

"I have a contact," Silas said, crossing his arms. "A pilot who runs supplies to the European territories. He owes me a favor. He can get you out tonight."

I looked at the forest, at the border of the Obsidian Pack shrouded in mist. I had poured my sweat and blood into that land. I had built their homes, their defenses, their future.

And they had thrown me away like garbage.

"I'm not running away," I said, my voice steady, the tremor gone. "I'm advancing to a new position."

I turned to Silas and Mara. "Thank you. For saving my life."

"Just don't waste it," Silas grunted, looking away to hide the softness in his eyes.

I grabbed my drafting bag. It was light, empty of my tools, but heavy with potential.

I walked toward the truck that would take me to the airstrip. I didn't look back.

*Goodbye, Emilio,* I thought, pushing the words down the bond one last time, severing the final thread.

*Enjoy your kingdom. I hope the walls hold.*