chapter 8

On the day Scarlett recovered from her illness, she did not catch a single glimpse of Zane. In twenty-four hours, he sent just one message,

“Scarlett, I’m up North arranging for priests to refine the auditory restoration ritual for you.”

She didn’t reply. The night before, Cecilia had sent her a photo,

a prenatal appointment slip from the pack’s medical center, signed with Zane’s wolf-clan seal.

Along with it came a note,

“My morning sickness was so bad yesterday—Zane insisted on making the appointment himself. I’ll return him to you tomorrow. Wouldn’t want you to get lonely.”

Even through text, Scarlett could feel Cecilia’s smug condescension.

Ignoring them both, Scarlett packed her suitcase alone and finalized her arrangements with the Death Customization Center.

For days, Cecilia had flooded her feed with posts Visible Only to Scarlett, Zane sliding a moonstone ring onto her finger, the two embraced in a field of bonding flowers, his focused expression as he carved prenatal runes for her… Each image pierced precisely into Scarlett’s memories.

When Scarlett still didn’t react, Cecilia’s patience shattered. A furious transmission came through,

“Scarlett, how can you stand this? Did our Alpha spoil you into helplessness? I’m carrying Zane’s child. Once it’s born, you—a barren waste clinging to the title of Luna—will be stripped of everything by the elders!”

“I’ll leave you HOMELESS!”

Scarlett actually laughed at that.

Home? She never had one—not until Zane forced the idea upon her.

Now, she was giving it all back.

Three days before her departure, Scarlett returned the Luna scepter to the high priest of the Shadow Pack, using “quiet recuperation” as her reason.

Two days before, She compiled every video, photo, and transmission into a moonstone drive. Her instruction, “Play this at our four-year bonding ceremony. A ‘gift’ for Zane.”

The customization center confirmed via transmission, “Mrs. Reed, supplementary materials verified. Content will premiere at the ceremony in 48 hours. We guarantee full receipt by Zane. Your pack markers and identity records will be purged simultaneously. Thank you for choosing Death Customization. May your rebirth be peaceful.”

The voice was synthetic, devoid of emotion, yet Scarlett smiled—a real smile, for the first time in weeks. Freedom.

“Thank you for the... gift.”

Just then, Zane walked in.

“What gift?”

She turned. He’d been gone a week.

Luckily, she’d lowered her communicator. He assumed she was recording a voice memo.

“Nothing,” she said calmly. “The old priest sent over some calming herbs. A thank you for helping him earlier.”

Zane didn’t press. He pulled her into an embrace. “You’ve lost weight, baby. I was in the North securing the best ritualists—I’ll restore your hearing before the ceremony.”

He buried his face in her neck, breathing her in.

Scarlett remembered Cecilia’s photo—him leaning into that woman the same way, surrounded by flowers.

Nausea rose. Gently, she pushed him away. “You’re dusty. Go shower first.”

Zane ruffled her hair, signing tenderly, “Two days until the ceremony. I’ll sing my vow song in front of the whole pack—the one I promised you when I proposed. This time, I’ll do it right.”

Scarlett’s lips curved. “I’ll be waiting.”

Her compliance brightened his eyes. He headed to shower, clearly intending to claim her after—when his communicator rang.

Outside the bathroom, Scarlett heard him answer. Two words cut through the steam, “Xiyue?”

Three minutes later, Zane rushed out, hair still wet.

“Scarlett,” he signed urgently, “The Northern ritualists are held up at the border. I have to go—”

Scarlett waved dismissively. “Go. Don’t keep pack affairs waiting.”

But beneath his unfinished transmission, she clearly heard Cecilia’s dramatic weeping.

He hesitated—then left.

As his car disappeared from view, Scarlett retrieved her pre-packed suitcase.

Had he stayed just a few minutes longer, had he stepped into their bedroom, he would have seen the empty spaces where her life used to be.

But he hadn’t set foot in that room for months.

The villa stood silent—servants dismissed weeks ago for their “uninterrupted bonding time.” A customized vehicle waited outside.

As the car pulled away, the mansion shrank in the rearview mirror, fading like their love. Above, the moon hung full and bright.

Scarlett’s vision blurred. For a moment, she saw him again—eighteen-year-old Zane, the defiant youth who reached for her in the marketplace of her exiled pack, “Come with me, Scarlett. I’ll give you a home.”

I don’t want that home anymore.

At the border of the Shadow Pack, Scarlett stepped into the moonlight. She knelt, lifted her face to the moon, and spoke in a voice clear and unbreakable,

“By the witness of the Moon Goddess, I, Scarlett, bonded to Zane for four years, now sever this tie. He has broken our vows, defiled his wolf soul, and shattered our covenant. From this moment on, I renounce my title as Luna of the Shadow Pack and as Zane’s mate. Let the past turn to dust. I depart with my wolf soul, Ami, toward a new dawn!”

As her vow echoed under the night sky, Zane—speeding toward Cecilia’s apartment—clutched his chest. A searing, soul-deep agony tore through him, the mate bond had been severed.