Chapter 4 The wild and beyond

She said the words.

She actually said them.

"I, Ava Lennox, reject this bond-"

I heard it. Felt it. The moment the tether between us unraveled like thread yanked from a wound.

I'd spent the last three days preparing for that sentence-every hour, every breath, telling myself it had to be done.

But I wasn't ready for how it felt.

I wasn't ready for the way her voice would shake. Or the way her scent would recoil like she'd just ripped out a piece of herself and left it on the forest floor.

I wasn't ready for the silence that followed.

And I sure as hell wasn't ready for the emptiness that came after.

I stood there long after she left.

Frozen. Still. Like some fool waiting for the bond to snap back into place and whisper just kidding in the hollow space behind my ribs.

But it didn't.

She meant it.

And I had let her.

No, made her.

Because I was too much of a coward to do it myself.

Too proud to admit what I felt.

Too weak to stand against the expectations of a pack that had never given a damn about my heart.

Alpha bloodlines don't mix with omegas.

The Luna must be of noble rank.

What would the council say?

I could still hear my father's voice from the day I took over the Alpha title in name, if not yet in ceremony. His warnings. His subtle reminders of what "legacy" meant.

Not love.

Not fate.

Not the way Ava's scent had wrapped around my senses that night like something I'd been chasing my whole life without knowing.

I leaned against a tree now, bracing my forearm against the bark like I needed something solid to keep from collapsing. My lungs dragged air in and out, but it felt thin. Meaningless.

She'd been right.

About all of it.

About me.

I hadn't defended her. I hadn't chosen her.

And now the bond was gone.

My wolf paced, agitated and confused. He'd gone silent the moment she spoke the rejection-stunned, maybe. Or grieving in his own way.

Why does it hurt so much?

I'd wanted her to say it. I'd thought if I pushed hard enough, if I said the right words-cold, calculated, cruel-it would be enough to drive her to it. To make her walk away. To make her hate me, so this ache inside wouldn't exist.

But it hadn't worked.

Because even as she said the words, her eyes had been full of something deeper than hate.

Disappointment.

And I hadn't expected that to gut me more than any rage ever could.

I sank down to the ground slowly, letting my back rest against the tree trunk. My hands curled into fists in the dirt.

The night was still. Mocking.

No wind. No rustling. Just the echo of her voice replaying over and over like a curse in my skull.

"I reject you, Damon Spears."

Her words were final.

But they didn't bring relief.

They brought ruin.

I'd told myself this was the only way. That by letting her go, I was protecting her from a life of scrutiny, of cruelty from pack elders who would never see her as worthy. That I was keeping her from becoming a Luna constantly under fire.

But the truth?

I was protecting myself.

From the war it would've taken to keep her.

From the disgrace I thought loving her would bring.

And now?

Now I couldn't even breathe without feeling the loss like a blade to the chest.

I pressed the heel of my hand to my sternum. It was instinct-like maybe if I held there long enough, I could stop the ache. Seal up the wound. Pretend it didn't happen.

But it did.

She said it.

And I watched her leave.

I don't know how long I sat there. Could've been minutes. Could've been hours.

Eventually, the ache dulled-but only slightly. Like the pain had sunk deeper into my bones, hiding in places even my wolf didn't know how to reach.

You did this.

That voice inside me-the one that never stopped-whispered on repeat.

You did this.

You let her walk.

You chose legacy over love.

And now you have nothing.

I stood slowly, brushing dirt from my palms.

The forest clearing looked the same.

But nothing else did.

Not me.

Not my future.

And certainly not whatever hope I'd once held that fate might be kind.

The rejection should've severed everything. That was what the stories said. That was what the elders preached. Once the words were spoken, the bond was cut. The pain would fade. The longing would disappear.

But it didn't.

My body still ached for her. My senses still reached for her like a limb I'd lost but could still feel.

I remembered the way she looked tonight-standing there with her chin raised, fire in her voice, hurt in her eyes.

I remembered the slight tremble in her fingers when she touched mine.

And I remembered the way her scent lingered, honey and wildflowers, even after she turned and vanished into the trees.

I should've chased her.

But I didn't.

Because even now, I didn't know if I deserved her.

And I sure as hell didn't know if she'd ever look at me again without seeing the man who broke her spirit just to save his pride.

Back at the estate, the lights were still on.

My mother's study window glowed soft gold against the dark frame of the main house. The pack was likely asleep, unaware that their Alpha heir had just lost the one thing he never truly claimed.

I didn't go inside.

I turned instead toward the training grounds, my steps slow but steady. My wolf itched beneath my skin, restless, needing something-anything-to claw at.

I stripped off my shirt and shifted in seconds.

The pain of it was welcome.

The rush of muscle and fur, of paws hitting earth, of wind in my lungs-it dulled the scream still echoing in my chest.

I ran.

Hard.

Fast.

Until the trees blurred and the world narrowed to instinct and breath and the sound of the forest roaring past me.

But even then, I couldn't outrun her voice.

Or the truth.

I hadn't expected it to hurt.

I thought I could stay cold.

Detached.

But maybe the bond hadn't been one-sided after all.

Maybe I'd felt more than I ever admitted.

Maybe I'd loved her without realizing it.

And now she was gone.

The forest welcomed me with open arms and teeth.

I left Silver Hollow before sunrise, slipping past the patrol line when no one was watching-though truthfully, no one was ever watching me. Not really

Not the girl who had no rank.

Not the omega who dared to be mated to Damon Spears.

Not the reject who spoke those words and shattered her own bond.

I hadn't planned where I'd go. Just... away. Anywhere but that pack. Away from the place where I learned that love could be commanded and severed in the same breath. Away from Damon's unreadable face and the empty way he said, "Good," after I broke us.

I ran until my lungs ached and my legs throbbed. The trees blurred, the bramble caught in my hair, and still I ran, like I could outrun the echo of his voice in my head.

You'll do it, Ava. You'll reject me. You'll free us both.

Liar.

He didn't look free.

And I sure as hell didn't feel it.

Eventually, I slowed to a walk. The land grew unfamiliar. Wilder. No pack markings. No patrols. Just untamed trees and mist curling around the roots like ghosts.

I'd crossed into unclaimed land.

Or so I thought.

I should've known better.

I smelled them before I heard them-unwashed fur, blood, earth. Ferality. A lack of structure. Of hierarchy.

Rogues.

No. Not even that organized.

Strays.

One wrong step and a twig snapped beneath my foot.

The growl that answered made my skin prickle.

I turned slowly.

Four shapes emerged from the shadows, one by one. Not fully shifted. Not fully human. That dangerous in-between where instincts ruled and words barely mattered.

A man with mismatched eyes moved first. His voice was low, hoarse. "Silver Hollow, huh? I thought they kept their omegas on leashes."

I didn't speak.

"Maybe she got loose," said another-this one smaller, with a cruel mouth and a blade she spun between her fingers. "Should we bring her back?"

Laughter. Cold. Sharp.

Then a fifth figure stepped forward. Taller than the rest, arms crossed, expression unreadable. His presence quieted the others immediately.

Knox.

I didn't know him yet. But I could tell-he was the spine of this group. The leader.

He studied me in silence.

"You ran," he said, not a question.

I nodded.

"From what?"

"A pack that wanted to cage me," I said. "And a mate who told me to throw our bond away like it was trash."

Something flickered across his face. A twitch in the jaw. A shift of something unspoken.

"I'm Ava," I said. "From Silver Hollow."

Knox took another step. "And now?"

"I don't know."

His eyes narrowed. Then he turned his back.

"Then stay. For the night. But know this-strays don't do pity. If you want to earn space at our fire, you fight for it."

"I'm not afraid to fight."

He looked at me over his shoulder. "Good. Because here, it's the only thing that'll keep you alive."

The news spread through Silver Hollow like wildfire.

It started with a missed chore-an unwashed pile of linens left sitting beside the well. Then, breakfast rolls that never arrived at the training hall. By noon, it was Maura who raised the alarm, pounding on every door in the servant's wing with her apron twisted between her hands and panic bleeding through her voice.

"She's gone."

Three small words, but they cracked through the stillness of the morning like thunder.

Ava was gone.

At first, no one believed it. An omega? Running away? From Silver Hollow? The idea was absurd. Where would she go? How would she survive? But then someone checked her room-empty. Someone else found her cloak missing from the communal rack. A guard mentioned the eastern gate had been left ajar at dawn.

And just like that, disbelief turned into a chilling certainty.

Damon Spears stood frozen in the center of the main hall when Marcus delivered the report. The Beta didn't sugarcoat it. He never did.

"She left before sunrise. Alone. No signs of struggle. She didn't even take supplies."

The Alpha's jaw tensed. "You're sure?"

"Yes."

A long pause settled between them, taut with unspoken tension. Then Damon turned away, his hands curling into fists at his sides.

Marcus watched him closely. "You didn't expect her to do it, did you?"

Damon said nothing.

Of course he hadn't. He had expected Ava to cry, to rage silently behind closed doors, to mourn the bond in private but stay where it was safe. Where she could be watched. Contained. Forgotten, in time.

But she'd walked out.

Without permission. Without a word.

And now, every corner of Silver Hollow buzzed with the fallout.

The servants whispered while scrubbing the floors. Warriors shared glances during drills. Even the elders at the council table stirred uncomfortably, shifting parchments and speaking in low voices about the implications. The Alpha's mate-no, his former mate-had abandoned the pack. That wasn't just scandal. It was dangerous.

"What message does that send?" one elder asked quietly. "That the bond didn't matter? That Silver Hollow failed to protect one of its own?"

"She was never really one of us," another muttered. "She didn't belong."

But that wasn't true.

Ava had belonged in the way quiet things do-subtly, steadily, like roots under frost. She had known every servant's name. Had helped patch the younger warriors' tunics when no one else would. Had held silence with grace when others threw barbs at her back.

She hadn't belonged by title. But she had, in the deepest ways, belonged by heart.

And now she was gone.

Some scoffed. "She'll be back within a day. Crying and cold. Begging at the border."

Others weren't so sure.

"She was different," Maura whispered, eyes red-rimmed. "She's stronger than we thought."

Damon didn't speak.

He stood alone on the edge of the courtyard that evening, staring out past the treeline where the shadows deepened into blue. He couldn't feel the bond anymore-not the way he used to. It was thinning, fraying like old thread. But a whisper of it remained.

Faint.

Flickering.

Like a candle on the verge of burning out.

He closed his eyes and listened.

But all he heard was the forest.

And the echo of a heartbeat that no longer beat beside his own.