Chapter 6 No.6

Elara POV:

I was drenched by the time I got back to my room. I shivered, but not just from the cold. A strange feverish heat began to creep through my veins, followed by a bone-deep chill. It was a side effect of a forcibly broken mate bond, my body and soul crying out for a connection that no longer existed.

I collapsed onto my bed, my wet clothes clinging to my skin. My phone buzzed. It was an encrypted message from my father.

"Plane is confirmed. Border landing strip. August 25th, 10 PM sharp. Be ready."

My heart pounded. August 25th. That was Alaric's birthday. In seven days, I would be free.

The final countdown spurred me into action. I spent the next few days methodically erasing myself. I packed the last of my personal belongings-clothes, books, the few things that weren't tied to him. I contacted a human-world recycling service and arranged for them to meet me just outside the territory line. I couldn't risk a pack member seeing what I was doing.

As the recycling truck pulled away with the last remnants of my Blackwood life, Alaric's sleek black car pulled up. He got out, his eyes immediately locking on me, then on the departing truck. His gaze was sharp, suspicious.

"What was that all about?" he asked, his tone demanding.

"Just clearing out some old things," I replied, my voice steady. I was surprised by how calm I felt.

He frowned, a deep line appearing between his brows. He studied my face, and for the first time, I saw a flicker of something other than annoyance or indifference in his eyes. It looked like... uncertainty. Like he was looking at a stranger. A seed of panic seemed to sprout in his expression before he quickly masked it.

"Seraphina and I are moving into the penthouse full-time," he announced abruptly, changing the subject. "The Beta will handle day-to-day pack affairs here. It's more efficient."

"That makes sense," I said. It also made my departure easier.

A foolish, sentimental impulse took over. "Next Friday," I began, my voice softer than I intended. "It's your birthday. Will there be a celebration? I'd like to... say goodbye properly." It was a lie. I just wanted one last look.

His face hardened, the brief flicker of vulnerability gone. "That will be a private celebration. For the Alpha and his future Luna. It's not an appropriate event for an Omega to attend."

The casual cruelty of his words was like a physical slap. He didn't just reject my presence; he used my rank as the reason. The final nail in the coffin of my girlish dreams.

"I understand," I whispered, and fled to my room before he could see the tears welling in my eyes.

That night, I found the last of my sketchbooks. I had forgotten about this one. Every page was a portrait of him, from the awkward teenager to the powerful Alpha he was today.

On the last blank page, I steeled myself and drew him in his magnificent black wolf form, with Seraphina's sleek silver wolf nestled beside him. It was a good drawing, full of life. It was my genuine wish for his happiness.

Later that evening, a drunken Alaric stumbled into the house. I was in the kitchen getting water when I heard him trip in the hall. Instinct took over, the years of caring for him rushing back. I helped him up, his heavy arm slung over my shoulders.

He smelled of whiskey and Seraphina's perfume.

"Seraphina..." he mumbled, his head lolling against mine. "You came back..."

Before I could correct him, he lurched forward, backing me against the wall. His face was inches from mine, his eyes hazy with desire. And then, his lips crashed down on mine.

It was a rough, desperate kiss, the kiss I had dreamed of for years. But it tasted of betrayal.