Aurora’s POV

The moment Dante turned his back, a hollow emptiness spread through me like a slow poison. The bond, that sacred, unseen thread that once connected us, was gone-ripped apart by his rejection.

I had held on, held myself together long enough for him to leave, but as soon as the door closed behind him, my body crumbled.

Pain seized me, raw and relentless. My knees hit the cold floor, my hands clutching my chest as if I could physically hold the pieces of my heart together. But I couldn't.

The agony was unbearable.

“No… no, no, no…”

Fay whimpered inside me, her voice fractured, shattered.

I gasped, struggling for breath, for control, but the emptiness inside me was a gaping void, consuming every part of me.

“He left us”. Fay’s voice was hoarse, broken. Our mate… “he-”

Don’t say it. I squeezed my eyes shut, willing my tears to stay in.

But my wolf had already shattered along with me.

“He was supposed to love us”. Her howl of despair echoed in my head, sending sharp, unbearable pangs of grief through my chest.

I dug my nails into my palms, forcing myself to breathe. Fay, stop. We knew this would happen.

“No!” she roared, a sound of pure agony. “You knew. I never agreed to this. You accepted it too easily. You gave up without a fight!”

A fresh wave of pain slammed into me. I clenched my fists, my breaths coming in short, uneven gasps. What was I supposed to do? Beg? Throw myself at his feet?

“YES!” Fay's voice cracked. “Because he is ours! He should be ours!”

A sob fought its way up my throat, but I swallowed it down.

No, I whispered. Not anymore.

Fay whimpered, her energy weakening. I could feel her retreating, curling up deep in my mind, shutting me out.

I let her, I had no strength left to comfort her.

No strength left to comfort myself….

The only thing I could do was force my trembling legs to stand. I wiped my eyes, pressed my lips into a tight smile, and walked back inside.

Even if I was dying inside, I would not let him see it.

But when I entered the living room, expecting to find my mother or Elara, I instead found him.

Dante.

My heart clenched painfully at the sight of him, standing in the center of the room like he hadn’t just broken me. His expression was unreadable, his stormy gray eyes locking onto mine with a coldness that sent a fresh ache through my chest.

“I don’t want Elara to know about this,” he said, his voice void of emotion. “It would be best if you kept your distance from her.”

My breath caught, a sharp, disbelieving laugh nearly slipping out.

Was he serious?

I had agreed to his rejection to protect her. I had swallowed my pain, buried it deep inside me, for her. And yet, he stood there, assuming I would go running to her, spreading my misery like some desperate fool.

His lack of faith in me was more insulting than his rejection.

“I don’t need you to tell me that,” I said, my voice clipped, controlled.

Fay's confusion burned through me. “

Why is our mate so cruel? He doesn’t even trust us. He thinks we’re weak”.

The words cut deep, but I refused to let them break me.

I ignored her, keeping my expression blank as Dante continued.

"I’ll be taking Elara and her mother home first to prepare for the wedding. She doesn’t need any distractions."

Distractions.

The word was a dagger.

I nodded stiffly, keeping my voice steady. “As long as they’re happy, that’s all that matters.”

Lies.

Every word I spoke was a lie, but he didn’t seem to notice. Or care.

Elara came bouncing into the room moments later, glowing with excitement. “Aurora! You’re coming with us, right?”

Before I could answer, Dante cut in.

“She can’t. Work reasons.”

I stiffened, anger flickering inside me, but I forced myself to nod. “I’ll come as soon as I have time.”

Another lie.

Elara beamed, throwing her arms around me. “I’ll hold you to that!”

They left happily, Elara promising to pick mum up, first thing the following morning.

And then…

The cork popped from a bottle.

I turned to find my mother sprawled on the couch, a fresh drink in hand.

“Mom, don’t.” My voice was already tired.

“Oh, hush, Aurora,” she slurred, lifting her glass as if in a toast. “We’re celebrating.”

My chest tightened. “You don’t have to celebrate like this.”

She rolled her eyes. “Pack our bags.”

I frowned. “What?”

She sighed impatiently. “We’re moving in with Elara until the wedding.”

My stomach twisted. “I’m not going.”

She stared at me like I had grown a second head. “Excuse me?”

“I’m not going,” I said firmly.

She frowned, crossing her arms. “I promised Elara we would cover her wedding expenses.”

We?. But we both knew what that really meant-’me’. My mother had nothing. No savings, no income. It had always fallen on my shoulders.

I swallowed the frustration rising in my chest and forced a steady breath. “I’ll transfer the money to their card,” I said, my voice flat. “But I’m not going.”

I helped her to bed, adjusting the blankets as she let out a heavy sigh.

“You’re so selfish, Aurora,” she muttered, her voice thick with sleep and resentment. “How can you not be there for Elara at such an important moment?”

The words struck deep, but I kept my face blank, pretending they didn’t. This is just how she is. Blame was easier than gratitude. Disappointment came easier than love.

I swallowed the ache rising in my throat, smoothing a hand over the sheets. “Good night, Mom,” I whispered, but she had already turned away, as if dismissing me entirely.

Silently, I packed her bags, cleaned the house, and did everything I was supposed to do. Everything she would never acknowledge.

And then I ran.

I bolted out the door, shifting the moment I reached the forest’s edge. My bones snapped, reshaping, fur bursting through my skin. The sting of rejection, the weight of her words, the hollow ache in my chest, it all blurred as Fay took over.

We ran, faster and faster, chasing an escape that didn’t exist.

The cold air burned against our fur, the trees blurring into dark smudges as we pushed forward.

But no matter how fast we ran, the ache inside us did not fade.

“He was supposed to love us”.

Fay’s words were a dagger to my heart.

He was supposed to protect us.

A sharp sob escaped me, but I kept running.

We didn’t stop until we were breathless, until exhaustion forced us to our knees.

Fay lifted her head to the sky, to the moon that had cursed us with a mate who didn’t want us.

And she howled.

The sound was raw, broken, filled with every ounce of agony we had kept buried inside.

Then she retreated.

I collapsed onto the forest floor, my body trembling, my cheeks damp with silent tears.

I lay there, beneath the watchful moon, drowning in the weight of everything I had lost.

And when exhaustion finally claimed me, I didn’t fight it.