Emery.
The air at the edge of the territory felt different. Fresher. It was the last breath of freedom before she stepped into the unknown lands between packs. She stood before the ancient border stone, a waist high monolith of grey granite covered in moss and faded pack markings. Behind her, the Silver Creek forest was lush and vibrant. The leaves on the trees were a deep, healthy green. The air hummed with the life she had poured into it.
Her small leather satchel was the only weight on her shoulder. The pain in her chest was a cold, solid thing, no longer the sharp agony of betrayal but the dull ache of a wound that would never fully heal.
“Emery, stop!”
The voice was desperate. She turned to see Marcus, Gavin’s Beta, running towards her down the path. He was a good wolf, kind and steady, with a mate he adored and three pups. He was everything Gavin pretended to be.
“Please,” he said, breathing hard as he reached her. “Don’t do this.”
“It’s already done, Marcus,” she said, her voice quiet. “He made his choice.”
“He’s an idiot,” Marcus said, not even trying to defend his Alpha. “He’s blinded by her. By… whatever she is. But this is your home. These are your people.”
“Are they?” she asked, a genuine question. “They will stand by him tonight at the ceremony. They will accept Fiona. Not one of them will speak for me.”
“They don’t know the truth,” he argued. “They don’t know what you’ve done for us. For the land.”
“And he will never tell them,” she replied. “He will let them believe her ridiculous lie about a healing aura. He has stolen my work, my magic, and claimed it for his whore.”
Marcus flinched at her harsh words. “Emery, your anger is justified. But leaving… this is not the answer. Let him have his fling. He will see the truth of her eventually. He will come back to you.”
She gave a short, bitter laugh. “I am not a toy to be put on a shelf until he is done playing with a new one. The bond is a sacred thing, Marcus. He desecrated it. He desecrated me.”
“Then fight for it. Fight for him.”
“No,” she said, the word final. “I am done fighting for a man who would not fight for me. I am here to end it.”
He looked confused. “What do you mean? You just walk away, and the bond fades over time.”
“Time?” Emery’s voice was cold. “I will not give him another second of my life. I will not be tethered to his soul while he is with her. I will not feel their bond through my own.”
From a small pocket inside her tunic, she pulled a knife. It was not a weapon of war. It was small, ceremonial, the blade carved from a single piece of obsidian. Its edge was sharper than steel.
Marcus’s eyes went wide with horror. He knew what it was. “No. Emery, you can’t. That’s a rite of severance. It’s forbidden magic. It will scar your soul.”
“My soul is already scarred,” she said calmly, testing the edge with her thumb. “This is just a cleansing. A way to cut out the poison before it kills me.”
“Gavin doesn’t deserve this mercy,” he pleaded. “Let him feel the ache of the bond. Let it torment him every time he touches her.”
“You think this is for him?” She met his gaze, and for the first time, he saw the ice in her eyes. The cold fury of a queen. “This is for me. I am reclaiming what is mine.”
Before he could move to stop her, she turned to the border stone. She held her left hand, the hand that wore an invisible mating band, over the granite surface.
“I call upon the Old Magic,” she whispered, her voice gaining an eerie resonance that made the air grow still. The birds in the trees fell silent.
“Emery, think of the pack,” Marcus begged, his voice a low growl of desperation. “Think of the pups, the elders. Whatever you are, whatever you do for this land, they need it. They are innocent.”
“His pack, his responsibility,” she said, her focus entirely on the stone. “Innocence is not a shield against the consequences of a weak Alpha.”
She sliced the obsidian blade across her palm. The cut was deep, precise. Blood, shockingly red, welled up instantly. It did not drip. It seemed to cling to her skin, glowing with a faint, silver light.
“What are you?” Marcus whispered, his wolf instincts telling him he was in the presence of a power he could not comprehend.
She ignored him. She pressed her bleeding palm flat against the cold granite of the border stone. The silver light in her blood flared, sinking into the rock and spreading through it like veins of lightning.
“I, Emery Vance,” she declared, her voice ringing with ancient authority. The name felt strange and powerful on her tongue after three years of being just Emery.
“By the blood of my ancestors and the magic in my soul,” she continued, her eyes closing. She felt the bond, a thick, corrupted cord of energy connecting her heart to Gavin’s. It writhed like a dying snake.
“I reject the claim of Gavin, Alpha of Silver Creek. He has broken his vow. He has forsaken his mate. He is unworthy.”
She pushed harder against the stone, channeling all her pain, all her rage, all her grief into one single, violent act of will.
“I sever this tie. I reclaim my heart. I reclaim my spirit. I reclaim my magic. He is nothing to me now. By my blood, I am free!”
The cord snapped.
The pain was excruciating. A raw, tearing sensation ripped through her chest, stealing her breath. It was a thousand times worse than she had imagined. It felt like dying. She cried out, stumbling back from the stone, clutching her chest as her knees buckled.
Marcus caught her, his face a mask of fear and awe. “Emery!”
She pushed him away, forcing herself to stand. The pain was already receding, leaving behind a vast, hollow emptiness. A clean wound. Her bleeding hand had already stopped, the skin knitting itself back together with a faint silver shimmer.
Her connection to Gavin was gone. Utterly and completely gone. She was alone in her own soul for the first time in three years. The silence was deafening.
She took a shaky breath and straightened her spine. She turned her back on the border stone and on Marcus. She took one step, crossing the invisible line that separated Silver Creek from the rest of the world.
The moment her foot touched the neutral ground, it began.
A wave of visible decay pulsed outwards from the border stone, spreading back into the forest she had just left. It moved like a sickness, silent and horrifyingly fast.
The lush green leaves on the nearest tree instantly curled, turning a sickly brown before crumbling to dust. The vibrant grass at Marcus’s feet withered, turning the color of straw. The rich, dark soil seemed to lighten, becoming pale and sandy.
A flower, a beautiful moonpetal she had personally nurtured, wilted on its stem, its petals drooping and turning black as if touched by frost.
Marcus stared, his mouth hanging open. He looked from the spreading rot to her, his eyes filled with a dawning, terrible understanding.
“The land,” he breathed. “It’s… dying.”
“I told you,” Emery said, her voice devoid of emotion. “I gave this pack everything.”
“Your magic,” he whispered, the pieces clicking into place. “The harvests. The clean water. The healthy pups. It was all you. It was always you.”
“Yes,” she confirmed.
He looked back at the tide of decay that was now sweeping deeper into his home, a silent plague consuming everything it touched. The air, once so sweet and full of life, now smelled of dust and rot.
“Oh, Goddess,” he groaned, running a hand through his hair. “What has he done?”
Emery looked at him, at the good man who would suffer for the sins of his Alpha. She felt a pang of sorrow, not for Gavin, but for Marcus and his family. For all the innocents.
“He made his choice,” she said, her voice softening slightly. “He chose a new Luna. He will have to learn to live with her gifts, instead of mine.”
She turned and began to walk away, her steps steady and sure. She did not look back at the dying forest or the horrified man she left behind.
The prophecy was fulfilled. The rot had begun.
