16

What hit Declan even harder was Zara actually agreed.

He still remembered clearly how Zara’s life changed after her mother died. Her father remarried, and since then, the home that should have been a place to return to became the coldest place of all. Her father seemed to shut his eyes, while her stepmother treated her like a burden that stained the family name.

Because Declan still remembered all of that, Zara didn’t feel the need to explain anything anymore. She only gave a small nod, her voice calm like someone who had weathered too many storms until she’d finally gone numb.

“Either way, this decision is final,” she said. “So there’s no need to delay it.”

The rejection was bound to happen. Zara was sick of the uncertainty hanging over her, sick of the push-and-pull games that always left her suffering.

Declan narrowed his eyes.

“So.” His voice was quiet, but it pierced. “All this time, all your strange behavior, was it all for this?”

In Declan’s mind, fragments from the past few days spun rapidly Zara no longer crying, Zara no longer chasing, Zara looking even calmer than usual.

So this was it.

He thought Zara was only acting. Afraid he’d refuse to invest in Peakmoon Pack, so she pretended to be tough, pretended she wanted to leave hoping Declan would soften and eventually give in to her request.

Declan almost laughed.

So typical of Zara, he thought always trying to bind him in subtle ways, with a patience that disgusted him.

For a moment, Zara didn’t catch the meaning behind Declan’s stare. But when the Alpha’s face seemed to soften slightly like his mood suddenly improved Zara could guess what was on his mind.

Maybe Declan felt relieved.

Maybe Declan imagined once this bond was broken, he could stand beside Marina without anyone’s shadow.

Zara mocked herself silently.

Declan had once said, rejection or not, it wouldn’t make a difference. He would still do whatever he wanted. Yet strangely, now Declan looked as if he was quietly hoping everything would end as soon as possible.

Zara stayed silent.

Declan took that silence as a confession.

Without saying another word, he flipped straight to the last page of the rejection agreement and signed it quickly, his signature firm, without hesitation, without a trace of emotion.

One stroke of the pen.

Like cutting off something that had been hanging for years.

“Tomorrow you still have to come with me to-”

Declan stopped before finishing the sentence. He almost said the Pack Bond Council, the place where every bonded pair had to appear to officially end their bond.

But he seemed not to care anymore.

With a lazy motion, Declan reached into the desk drawer and pulled out a pack passport, an official identity document listing bloodline, status, and territory seal.

He shoved it together with the agreement toward Zara.

“I’m busy,” he said coldly. “Handle the rest yourself. If you don’t understand something, ask Fadil.”

The words fell like snow covering a wound not healing it, only numbing it.

Zara gave a bitter smile.

Back then, when they married, Declan had even ordered Fadil to handle the registration of their bond. And now, to close five years that should have carried weight he still refused to spare even a moment.

As if the bond had never meant anything.

As if Zara was only a clause in a contract he wanted to cross out.

This marriage truly felt like a failed joke.

Yet strangely Zara wasn’t shattered like she used to be.

If Declan didn’t want to be present, then fine.

Zara lifted her head, her voice still flat.

“What about the agreement? Do you want your pack lawyer to review it again?”

Declan didn’t even glance at the document.

“No.” He answered shortly, then added in a sharp voice, “What matters is you don’t regret your own decision.”

The warm light in the study illuminated the side of Declan’s face, sharpening the line of his jaw and the strong contours an Alpha’s face, born to lead, to command, not to regret.

Zara looked at him.

And for a moment the image of Declan as a teenager surfaced again in her eyes.

Zara first met Declan when she was six years old.

Back then, her mother was still alive, Peakmoon Pack was still respected, and Jordan Pack wasn’t as powerful as it was now. Zara attended a winter festival held by a wealthy pack.

Everything felt new and breathtaking. Crystal lights, the scent of wildflowers, laughter, and noble werewolves dressed in expensive clothes.

Little Zara ran everywhere, too excited.

Until a girl from an elite pack a spoiled Alpha’s daughter mocked her.

A small argument turned into anger. And with one cruel shove, the girl pushed Zara into the pond.

Cold water swallowed her small body.

Zara couldn’t swim.

She panicked, swallowed water, her nose burning, her chest on fire. The world turned dark and spun. She remembered kicking wildly, trying to survive, but her body grew heavier and heavier.

Just as she was about to drown two strong hands grabbed her waist.

Zara was hauled up, coughing violently, then pulled to the edge of the pond.

There stood a teenage boy, soaked to the bone.

His shirt clung to his body, his black hair dripping water. His eyes were sharp, yet there was something warm in them something that made Zara feel safe.

Declan Jordan.

That name lodged itself in her heart from that day on.

Zara knew, even as a child, Declan always looked at Marina differently. She knew Declan liked Marina. Yet she still kept her own feelings, quietly, like a secret buried deep beneath her ribs.

Then fate twisted everything.

Zara married Declan, hoping she could give him happiness he had never asked for.

But in reality this five-year bond only left wounds for everyone without a winner.

Zara exhaled slowly.

“I won’t regret it.”

She took the rejection agreement and the pack passport from the desk, then turned and left the study.

Her steps didn’t hesitate.

Didn’t feel heavy.

Not like someone who had lost.

The next morning, as dawn was just breaking and a thin fog hung over the roads of Rodrigo, Zara carried the signed rejection documents.

She drove herself to the Bond Council Office a building of old stone where all official bonds were recorded, erased, or transferred.

As soon as she arrived, Zara walked in without looking back.

She handed the documents to the clerk’s counter.

“Hello,” she said softly but clearly. “I want to file a rejection.”

The clerk took the papers, checking the blood seal and the Alpha’s signature.

But at that exact second Zara’s phone vibrated hard in her pocket, as if something urgent was calling for her.