June.
The silence that followed his words was a living thing. It was heavy, like a shroud, and it pressed down on me, stealing the air from my lungs. No mate at all. The phrase echoed in the cavernous space of my skull.
He took a step back, creating a chasm between us. He raised his chin, his face carved from ice. His voice, when he spoke again, was no longer filled with rage or panic. It was formal. Cold. A judge passing a sentence.
“I, Owen of the Alpha line, son of Marcus, future Alpha of the Moonstone Pack…”
Every word was a nail hammered into my soul through the golden bond. A searing, white hot pain flared in my chest, so intense it made me gasp. It felt like my ribs were cracking.
“No,” I whispered. My legs gave out. I crumpled to the marble floor, the impact jarring my bones. The beautiful white dress my mother had picked for me pooled around me like a funeral shroud.
He didn't even flinch. His eyes were hard, distant. “…do hereby stand before my pack and the Moon Goddess.”
“Please,” I begged, my voice a ragged, broken thing. Instinct took over. The bond was screaming, a dying animal inside me, and it was forcing me to my knees, forcing me to plead. “Owen, don’t. It hurts. Please, stop.”
I started to crawl toward him, my hands shaking as I reached for the hem of his pristine tunic. It was a pathetic, humiliating gesture. I was aware of it, but I couldn’t stop myself. The instinct to keep my mate, to soothe his anger, was a tide I couldn’t fight.
“Don’t touch me,” he spat, kicking his foot back just enough so my fingers grasped at empty air. He looked down at me, his lip curled in utter disgust.
“I’ll be better,” I sobbed, tears streaming down my face, blurring the horrified faces of the pack members around me. “I’ll be strong. I promise. My wolf, she’ll come. Just give her more time. Please.”
Owen laughed. It was not a sound of humor. It was sharp and cruel, a weapon designed to flay me open.
“Look at you,” he said, his voice dripping with contempt. “On your knees. This is the future Luna of the Moonstone Pack? Groveling like a rogue begging for scraps? You are pathetic.”
My father’s voice boomed, full of Beta authority. “That is enough, Owen! You will show my daughter respect!”
“Respect?” Owen shot back, his eyes flashing. “Respect is earned on the battlefield, Beta Calloway. Respect is earned with fangs and claws. What has she ever earned?”
Finn moved then, a blur of motion. “I’m going to kill you.”
He was halfway to Owen before my father and another warrior grabbed him, holding him back as he thrashed. “Let me go! He’s destroying her!”
“Stay out of this, Finn,” Owen ordered, not even bothering to look at him. His focus was entirely on me, a predator enjoying his kill.
“Like hell I will!” Finn roared.
“I am your future Alpha!” Owen’s voice cracked through the hall like a whip. Power radiated from him, an almost visible wave of dominance that forced everyone, even Finn, to flinch. “You will stand down. That is an order.”
Finn froze, his body rigid with fury, but the command held him fast. He was helpless. They all were.
“Alpha Marcus, control your son,” my mother pleaded, her voice trembling.
Alpha Marcus took a step forward, his expression grave. “Owen. This is not the way. You are making a spectacle.”
“I am making a statement,” Owen corrected him, his voice unwavering. “I am showing our pack, and any spies from other packs who may be watching, that Moonstone will not tolerate weakness at the top. The Decennial Games are in three years. Do you expect me to enter the arena with a human at my back?”
He gestured down at me with a dismissive flick of his wrist. “She is a burden. A liability. She would get torn apart in the first event. My Luna must be a weapon, not a china doll that needs protecting.”
He crouched down, bringing his face level with mine. The scent of him, of pine and power and mate, was an agonizing torture.
“Do you understand, June?” he whispered, his voice a venomous caress. “You are not what I need. You are not what this pack needs. You are a flaw in an otherwise perfect design. A mistake the Goddess made, and one that I have to correct.”
My world shattered into a million tiny pieces. The hope I had clung to, the love I had harbored for years, it all turned to ash in my mouth.
“No,” I choked out, one last, futile plea.
He stood up, towering over me once more. He took a deep breath, his chest puffing out as he prepared to deliver the final blow.
“I, Owen, son of Marcus, reject you, June Calloway, as my mate.”
The words were a physical force, slamming into me, severing the golden cord that had sung in my chest just minutes before. The song died with a shriek of unbearable agony.
“I sever this bond,” he declared, his voice ringing with finality.
“I sever you from my life.”
“I sever you from my future.”
The pain was absolute. It was a black hole opening inside me, consuming everything. I fell forward onto the cold stone, a keening wail tearing from my throat as the last thread of our connection snapped.
He had executed me in front of everyone I had ever known. And as I lay there, broken and empty, the only thing I could hear was the deafening silence of my pack watching me die.
