Chapter 4

My mother, Helena, saw the blood on my lips, and for a fleeting moment, a flicker of pity crossed her eyes.

In that instant, I saw the mother who had once loved me.

But the next second, Silas's muffled groan of pain grew more urgent, and she hastily averted her gaze, turning to comfort the son who "truly needed her care."

"My dear, how do you feel? Do we need to see a healer?"

I wiped the blood with the back of my hand and slowly got up from the floor. In the corner was a worn travel bag containing the few clothes I owned. I had already packed.

They watched my actions with surprise, followed by biting sarcasm.

My father, Gideon, sneered at me.

"What's this? Throwing a tantrum and running away from home? The pack's discipline is for your own good, Rowan. Why can't you see we're trying to help you?"

"Do you think running away solves anything?" my mother, Helena, said, her face a blank mask of indifference.

"Rowan, you've been like this your whole life, always running from your problems. Your father is right, we raised a coward."

Valeria settled Silas into a chair and turned to face me. There was no warmth in her eyes, only cold disgust. "Where do you think you're going?"

"Away from the Black Moon territory."

"Rowan!" Her voice rose, sharp with fury. "Do you have any idea what you're saying? The moment you step outside this territory, you are no longer a member of the Black Moon Pack!"

So much disappointment had accumulated that my heart was simply numb.

After hearing the same threat countless times, I no longer feared losing this so-called home.

Because this pack had never truly felt like home.

"Good," I said, picking up the travel bag and walking toward the door. "I was never worthy of it anyway."

I shouldered my bag and walked toward the main entrance without a backward glance.

A wave of dizziness washed over Valeria, a phantom blow striking her soul. She staggered, pressing a hand against the wall to keep from falling.

The moment she uttered those words of banishment, it felt as if she were carving out her own heart, piece by piece.

But intense pride and anger clouded her judgment.

She told herself this pain was Rowan's fault, that it was his weakness and incompetence that were causing her agony.

She still didn't understand what was happening to her, and could only grip the ornate railing of the second-floor landing, her knuckles white with the force.

The heavy door slowly opened under my hand. The night wind rushed in, swirling the dust on the floor.

There was no sound of angry smashing, but the frigid pressure that instantly filled the air behind me was bone-chilling.

"Rowan."

Valeria stood at the second-floor railing, staring down at my back, her voice dangerously cold. "If you dare to walk out that door today, don't ever expect another chance from me."

I stopped and looked back one last time at the place I once thought was home.

The moonlight cast a cold, lonely glow on the villa's walls.

"Whoever regrets this first, loses."

I slung the bag over my shoulder and stepped out the door. The night wind enveloped me, carrying the scent of freedom and the promise of death.

Valeria stood frozen, watching Rowan's retreating back. When she heard his final words, her heart clenched violently.

She knew he wasn't well.

She didn't know what harm he might come to out in the cold night. She wanted to tell him the words of banishment were spoken in anger, that she hadn't meant for him to leave.

She had the sudden urge to run after him, but Silas's gentle voice stopped her.

"Alpha Valeria, don't worry. Once he has nowhere left to go, he'll come crawling back. Then he'll understand that without you, he is nothing."

Hearing this, a strange irritation welled up inside Valeria.

She coldly averted her gaze, but no one noticed that the hand she rested on the railing was trembling slightly, her long nails nearly digging into her palm.