chapter 9

Simona finished speaking and walked straight into the study, leaving only her back visible to Dorian and Rowena in the living room.

Love was truly absurd—when someone had it, it felt like their whole world depended on it. Once it was no longer wanted, it became like leftover food—if it wasn't thrown away, it would spoil.

Dorian stood frozen until Rowena tugged him, and he finally came back to himself. "Dorian, Simona really is the most generous girl I've ever met!" Rowena said.

"Yeah." Dorian nodded. "She's really amazing."

Rowena's downcast eyes were full of jealousy.

Suddenly, she pressed her hands to her stomach and said with a trembling voice, "Dorian, my stomach hurts so much. Aconite seems to be acting up again. Could you take me back to my place first?"

Dorian hesitated for a long moment, but he eventually carried Rowena in his arms to her place.

Another whole night passed like this.

Rowena alternated between complaining of stomach pains and tightness in her chest, and he stayed by her side all night, not even closing his eyes to rest.

By the next day, when it was time to take the bonding commemorative photos, he was already mentally exhausted.

When Rowena changed into a light pink gown and shyly stood before him, he almost mistook her face for Simona's—the bright girl who had once insisted, "I want to wear a silver-and-white gown with pack emblem for the bonding commemorative photos."

"Dorian, does it look good?" Rowena's voice brought him back to reality.

It wasn't her. It wasn't Simona.

Dorian snapped fully back to reality.

When she was happy, she called him "Dorian." When she was upset, she used his full name, "Dorian Arnold." And when they were intimate, she would whisper, "Mate."

A cold sweat broke out across Dorian's back. Fear suddenly surged through him. He scrambled to his feet, grabbed his communicator, and dialed Simona's number.

Simona was awakened by the ringing.

She had spent the night trapped in dreams, the past 10 years wrapping around her like chains, refusing to let go…

There was Dorian holding her, saying, "I will always be your fated mate."

There was Dorian frowning, saying, "Rowena only has three months left, I have to stay with her."

There was Dorian scowling, saying, "Don't be so unreasonable."

And there was Dorian repeatedly leaving her behind, turning toward Rowena.

She struggled in her dreams, desperate and pained, until a hand pulled her out of the quagmire.

Wiping the tears from her face, she answered the communicator softly, "Hello."

On the other end, Noah paused for a moment, his voice laced with subtle concern. "Did you cry?"

Simona sniffled. "No, I just woke up."

Noah didn't press further. "The silver-and-white gown for the bonding ceremony you liked has been delivered to Frostmoon Pack. You can come back and try it on," he said.

Simona paused, then replied, 'Okay.'

After ending the call, she wiped away her remaining tears. Even though her bond with Noah was more like a "pack agreement" than romance, he remembered her preference for silver-and-white gowns and had customized one according to Frostmoon Pack's traditional style.

A faint anticipation rose in her chest. Perhaps entering a bond with Noah wasn't such a bad thing.

She pushed back the covers to get out of bed when her communicator rang again—it was Dorian's number.

Finally getting through, Dorian exhaled and spoke urgently, "Simona, who were you just talking to?"

Simona didn't answer immediately, just asked calmly, "Do you need something?"

"Nothing important. I just wanted to tell you I'll come back early after the photo shoot today. Can we have dinner together?"

"Got it," she replied.

She hung up, opened the curtains, and sunlight poured in—it was perfect weather for a bonding commemorative photoshoot.

Rowena's pink gown was lovely, yet she couldn't help but wonder what Noah's custom gown for her would look like.

She suddenly remembered how picky Noah had been since childhood, with exacting standards for pack emblems and fabrics. Anything that wasn't both true to pack tradition and perfectly crafted would never meet his approval.

A sudden urge to return to Frostmoon Pack surged within her.

Her own bonding ceremony date was approaching, and she knew she should go back early to take the commemorative photos.

A bond ceremony was a serious matter, and she shouldn't leave regrets behind.

Thinking this, she quickly packed her remaining belongings, stuffing the few personal items left in the apartment into garbage bags.

As she finished packing, she still felt like something was missing.

She stood there for a long moment before finally reaching into the very back of the top shelf of her closet and pulling out Dorian's "Mate Journal"—filled with promises to Rowena, without a single word about her.

She placed the journal in the most visible spot on the table, then paused, took a sheet of paper, wrote a single line on it, and set it on top of the journal.

Then, raising her right hand, she solemnly swore, "In the name of the Moon Goddess, I, Simona Pierce, voluntarily sever my fated bond with Dorian Arnold. From now on, there will be no ties between us."

The moment the oath left her lips, a sharp pain shot through her chest, as if a bond rooted for years had been violently snapped.

Sweat instantly soaked her forehead, yet she forced a smile—this time, the weight she had carried for so long was truly gone.

She and Dorian were no longer fated mates.

Goodbye, Dorian.

Meanwhile, while taking commemorative photos with Rowena, Dorian suddenly felt a searing pain deep in his soul, as if a cord tied to his heart had snapped, nearly sending him crashing to the ground.

His wolf, Ron, let out a howl of agony in his mind…