Mira's POV

The messenger arrived at dawn, shaking from more than cold.

"We found a body. In the northern passes. Alpha Cyrus of Windermere."

The name hit me like a physical blow.

Cyrus.

My former mate. The one who'd chosen me after Kael's rejection. The one I'd left when the bond with Kael reignited.

Dead.

"How?" Kael asked, appearing beside me.

"Exposure, looks like. He was beside a half-frozen stream. Alone."

"What was he doing up there?"

"I don't know. But there's something else." The messenger handed me a leather pouch. "This was in his pack insignia. Addressed to you."

My hands shook as I took it.

Inside, a folded note. My name is on the outside in Cyrus's careful script.

"Do you want privacy?" Kael asked quietly.

"No. Stay."

I unfolded the letter.

Mira,

If you're reading this, I'm dead. Good. I've been dying slowly for years. This way is faster.

I'm not writing for forgiveness. You don't owe me that. I'm writing because you deserve to know how it ended. You always deserved the truth.

After you left, I rebuilt Windermere. Made it strong again. Made myself Alpha again. Everyone said I'd moved on. They were wrong. I was performing. Playing the role of the strong leader while hollowing out inside.

The bond we had wasn't real. Not like what you have with Kael. I knew that even then. But I wanted it to be real so badly, I pretended it was. I made you pretend to. I'm sorry for that.

When the hunters destroyed Windermere. Eighteen of my pack didn't. I should have died with them. Should have fought harder. But I ran. Just like I always ran from the truth.

I've been wandering for months. No pack. No purpose. Just moving. The northern passes seemed appropriate, cold, isolated, honest about what they are. I thought maybe I'd find something up here. Clarity. Peace. Anything.

I found nothing. Just cold.

So I stopped walking. Sat by this stream. Let the cold do what I couldn't.

You'll judge this as cowardice. Maybe it is. Or maybe it's the first honest thing I've done in years.

Tell Kael he won. Not the cruel victory of competition, the simple victory of being right. He knew you weren't meant for me. I knew it too. We both pretended otherwise.

I don't blame you for leaving. I blame myself for making you think you had to stay. For building a relationship on your guilt instead of your choice.

The bond you share with Kael, that's real. That's what I wanted and never had. I'm glad you found it. Even if it meant losing you.

Don't mourn me. I don't deserve it. And I'm tired of people mourning what I could have been instead of accepting what I was.

What I was: a decent Alpha. A terrible mate. A man who loved you the wrong way and never learned the right way.

That's enough truth for one letter.

Be well, Mira. Build your peace. I hope it works.

Cyrus

I finished reading. Couldn't speak.

Kael took the letter gently. Read it. His expression didn't change.

"He chose this," Kael said finally.

"I know."

"You're not responsible."

"I know that too."

But knowing didn't stop the guilt.

Lyra appeared. "I heard. About Cyrus."

"Word travels fast."

"It always does for deaths. Especially Alphas." She paused. "Are you okay?"

"I don't know. He killed himself because of me."

"No," Kael said firmly. "He killed himself because of himself. The letter says that."

"Does it? Or is that just what he told himself to make it easier?"

"Does the distinction matter?"

"Yes. If I drove him to this."

"You didn't," Lyra interrupted. "I knew Cyrus. Before Windermere fell. He was already broken. Already performing. You were just the excuse he used."

"That doesn't make it better."

"No. But it makes it true."

Cara found us an hour later. "The northern scouts want to know,do we retrieve the body?"

"Yes," I said immediately.

"And bring it where?"

"Here. To Haven's Edge. He deserves a proper burial."

"He was Windermere Alpha. Shouldn't he be buried in Windermere territory?"

"Windermere doesn't exist anymore. Here is close enough."

They brought Cyrus's body three days later.

He looked smaller than I remembered. Thinner. The cold had preserved him, but couldn't hide the hollowness.

We prepared the memorial garden. Thirty-sixth stone.

The community gathered. Most hadn't known Cyrus. Didn't understand why we were honoring him.

Jenna asked me privately. "Why are we doing this? He was no one to us."

"He was someone to me. Once."

"But you left him."

"That doesn't erase what we had. Or what he meant."

"Does Kael mind?"

I looked at Kael, standing beside the grave. "No. He understands."

The ceremony was small. Simple.

I spoke. "Cyrus was Alpha of Windermere. My mate for five years. He was kind when he could be. Strong when necessary. Broken in ways he couldn't fix. He tried. That matters. His trying matters."

Kael spoke next. Surprised everyone, including me.

"I didn't know Cyrus well. But I knew he loved Mira in the way he understood love. That's nothing. He protected her when I couldn't. Gave her stability when I gave her pain. I'm grateful for that. Whatever else he was, he was that."

People placed stones. Flowers. Tokens.

I placed the letter at the base of his stone.

Let it weather. Let it fade. Let Cyrus's truth become part of the earth.

Afterward, I sat alone in the memorial garden.

Thirty-six stones now.

Thirty-six people who'd died in the last twelve years.

Some heroically. Some tragically. Some quietly, alone, by choice.

All of them mattered.

All of them were part of what we'd built.

Even the ones who'd chosen to stop building.

Kael found me there at sunset.

"You okay?"

"No. But I will be."

"He didn't die because of you."

"Maybe not. But I was part of why he stopped wanting to live."

"You were also part of why he lived as long as he did. The letter says that too."

"Does it?"

"Between the lines. He said you gave him five years. That's something."

I thought about that. Five years where Cyrus had purpose. Had love, even if flawed. Had belonging.

Five years he wouldn't have had without me.

"Do you think he regretted it?" I asked. "Choosing death?"

"I don't know. Maybe at the end. Or maybe he found the peace he was looking for."

"Peace or surrender?"

"Both. Sometimes they're the same thing."

We sat in silence as darkness fell.

"I need to tell you something," I said finally.

"What?"

"When I was with Cyrus, I tried to love him the way I loved you. Tried to make it the same. It never was."

"I know."

"And I think he knew too. But we both pretended. For five years, we pretended."

"Why are you telling me this now?"

"Because his death made me realize, we waste so much time pretending. Performing. Hiding from truth because truth is harder."

"And?"

"And I don't want to do that anymore. With anything. With you, with the community, with this peace we're building. I want the truth. Even when it's terrible."

Kael took my hand. "Truth is terrible. That's why we avoid it."

"But avoiding it killed Cyrus. The pretending. The performing."

"Yes. It did."

"I don't want that to be us."

"It won't be. We learned that lesson years ago."

Had we thought? Or were we still performing in different ways?

A commotion at the gate interrupted my thoughts.

We ran.