It had been three days since the rejection ceremony.
Three long days
The Silverpine Pack returned to its routine — the hunts were renewed, the training resumed, and the young wolves were educated in the old traditions. On the outside, all seemed normal.
The air was different, though!
Colder.
As if the pack had lost something important, though nobody dared to label it that.
And Mia Thompson was gone
She had left before dawn the morning after the ceremony.
No theatrics. No goodbye. A silent departure, her scent trail going past the guard post along the border and into human lands.
Lucas had expected her to leave.
It hurt in the space within his ribs — the empty echo where her being had vibrated alongside his soul.
But knowing had not made it easier,
He stood outside the training grounds now, watching two young wolves in human form spar with awkward, unfocused motions.
Standing beside him was his Beta,
Cade.
"They're unfocused," Lucas muttered.
"They're confused," he said. "The pack is unsure about everything."
Lucas didn't respond
Cade glanced sideways at him. "You severed the bond. But the pack doesn't feel stronger. If anything, they feel like something sacred was broken."
Lucas remained still, but his hand clenched beside him.
Cade continued, his voice guarded. "Mia was not only a mate to me, Lucas. She was evidence that fate doesn't care about rank. That the moon looks beyond that. That some of us… needed that?"
Lucas turned away from him, his voice low and bitter.
"She's safer now."
Possibly. But are you?
Westridge was only an hour from Silverpine, but in a lot of respects, it could have been a different planet. The smell was car and coffee and not earth and pine. The citizens moved in tight groups, unaware of the beings who walked among them from time to time.
Mia slouched in the corner booth at the 24-hour diner, her arms wrapped tightly around a chipped teacup that held lukewarm liquid. Her suitcase lay beside her feet, and her hoodie was too thin to fend off the chill seeping into her bones.
But she didn't care.
She had made it out.
She was liberated.
And yet, though, she felt nothing.
She had located a tiny room over a bookstore where the proprietor had given her a couple of shifts per week in return for assisting in cataloging old books. It was not much. But it was better than nothing.
For the very first time in her existence, Mia had no rank. No wolf politics to navigate. No one to whisper in her ear.
Only silence.
Her wolf hated it.
The traces of the bond still ached in her chest, although she had tried not to think about him — about Lucas and about the ceremony and about the way his voice had trembled when he repudiated her. She told herself he didn't deserve her grief. But hearts didn't always conform to reason.
She took a sip of tea and gazed out the window.
The pale and bright full moon loomed over the buildings.
Lucas dreamed about her during the night.
_________________________________________________________________________________________________
She sprinted through the woods, barefoot in the undergrowth, her hair tangled with leaves, her wolf just below the surface.
This time, though, she didn't run away from him.
She ran towards him.
Their fingers made contact—just a brush—
And then vanished in a cloud of mist.
Lucas jerked awake with a gasp, his breath ragged, his brow beaded with sweat.
He reached out to the bond — the ancient connection between fated partners — and sensed that it was weak and distant, but there nonetheless.
Still surviving?
Despite everything.
He sat up and stroked his hair with his hand.
She remains here. Not completely.!
And his wolf realized what he had been in denial about for days
He was not done with Mia Thompson.
The next morning,
Mia walked to the bookstore early, her breath clouding in the crisp air. It was peaceful.
No orders.
No expectations.
She almost felt that she could start again.
Almost
And when she turned the corner, she felt it — a queer tingle at the back of her neck. A shiver along her backbone.
She wasn't alone.
She paused!
There, on the other side of the street, stood a half-shaded form. Thin and tall. With a low-brimmed hat and a long coat pulled over his eyes.
He didn't meet her eye straight on.
But she felt him.
And her wolf stirred in alarm.
Someone was observing her.