Discarded: The Omega’s Last Run

"I am deeply sorry, Lardon Vexley. You have completely missed the optimal moon cycle for the marrow surgery to halt the silver-rot decay in your ribs."

My claws dug into the parchment diagnostic, tearing the edges as the healer’s words echoed. I dialed Ronzek Hale, the pack-bound secretary of Draven Calder.

The line clicked open after a dozen agonizing rings, his tone sharp with alpha-pack elitism. "What is it, Lardon? The Alpha-Prime is occupied."

My throat tightened, raw and burning. "Is Draven within the territory grounds? I must speak to him immediately."

"The Calder Dominion requires his attention elsewhere tonight," Ronzek snapped.

"Please, just pass him the line"

"Draven," a soft, purring male voice cut through the receiver, dripping with sweet mockery. "What is the meaning of this secret gathering? Why have you brought me to the pack borders?"

"Cast your gaze toward the summit," Draven's deep, unmistakable rumble resonated through the line, carrying a warmth he had never once offered me.

The connection died instantly.

Boom.

A massive, concussive boom rocked the valley, shaking the foundations of the clinic.

Brilliant crimson and gold pack-flares ruptured across the midnight sky over Frostveil Peak, the searing light twisting into the shape of a lunar crest—a spectacle meant only for legend.

A crowd of lower-ranking wolves scrambled out of the medicinal quarters to watch.

"Did you see that? Alpha-Prime Calder just ignited the sacred crest flares for his chosen mate's birth-night! That ritual costs millions in raw moonstone resources!"

"That is Mireya Duskrell! He holds a Moon Scholar Rank from the Shadowpine Lunar Institute. Every elite pack in the northern territory is fighting to claim his mind. He is brilliant, devastatingly handsome, and backed by a legendary lineage!"

"No wonder Draven honors him so fiercely. Who wouldn't be proud to claim a mate of that caliber?"

I watched the burning embers cascade down the mountain, my fingers crushing the diagnostic paper until the shredded scraps slipped from my numb fingers, scattering into the dirt.

I turned my back on the light.

Later that night, the grand stone lodge was suffocatingly quiet.

Draven stepped through the heavy oak doors, the scent of winter and ozone trailing him as he flicked on the wall torches, his brow furrowed. "Why are you out of your room?"

I looked up from the wooden bench. His dark leather riding coat hung loose over his broad frame, and his amber eyes—cold, predatory, and entirely unreadable—fixed upon me.

I used to believe his detached nature was simply the curse of his dominant Alpha bloodline, but tonight, the truth bared its teeth.

The wolf who remained ice in my bed could burn like a wildfire for another man.

"Sleep escapes me," I whispered, the silver-rot aching in my chest. "I visited the pack elders at the clinic today."

Draven tossed his coat onto the furs, entirely indifferent. "What was their verdict?"

My ribs had been burning for weeks, an agonizing heat that made breathing a chore. He had promised to accompany me to the elders, but some territorial trade or border crisis with the Calder Dominion always demanded his presence.

Just yesterday, he swore he would be there. Then he discovered Mireya had returned to the territory for his birth-night.

He had abandoned the lodge to ignite the mountainside.

He had not spared a single thought for me.

"A minor ailment. They told me to rest and monitor the shifts," I lied softly, lowering my gaze. "Why return to my quarters tonight, Alpha?"

Draven paused, his heavy footsteps vibrating through the floorboards as he closed the distance between us.

He locked his powerful arms around my waist, pulling my back against his chest, his hot, heavy breath branding the side of my neck as his voice dropped to a gravelly growl. "The lunar alignment is perfect for breeding."

"You were the one who insisted we follow the pack cycle strictly to secure the Calder lineage. Have you forgotten your duty, Lardon?"

The pungent, unmistakable scent of Mireya’s cedarwood and musk perfume clung to his tunic—a brutal strike that shattered the last remnants of my dignity.

He wasn't lying about the past. Three years bound to this home, and Draven had remained a ghost. Only when pressured by the pack matrons to secure the lineage did he reluctantly return to perform the bare minimum.

A pup? That dream was dead now, rotted by silver.

I had always been compliant, playing the submissive wolf expected of my low rank. But tonight, something snapped within my blood.

"Draven, does it not concern you that your chosen mate might catch your scent on a male like me?"

My eyes flashed gold in the dim light, the desperate defiance of a cornered beast finally showing its fangs.

Draven stared down at me, his jaw tightening into stone.

He let out a harsh, mocking chuckle.

"Why should I care? Our mating bond was sealed in total secrecy—you are the one who demanded to remain hidden from the pack archives."

"You chose to be the shadow placeholder. What right do you have to question the Alpha's bed?"

The words hit like a physical blow, driving the air from my lungs and draining the warmth from my face.

The hearth kept the lodge perfectly warm, yet I felt buried beneath a glacial avalanche.

I kept my jaw locked. After an agonizing silence, Draven released me, looking toward the staircase. "Mireya’s sire is fading. His final wish is to see his son fully claimed and protected by a true Alpha power. Stay in your place, keep your head down, and maintain the illusion of the lodge master. I will not trouble your bed tonight."

He spoke of his betrayal as if it were a diplomatic necessity.

Won't touch me?

I stood paralyzed for a heartbeat, then a broken laugh escaped my throat. "If he requires your protection, you waste your time here. You truly do."

I turned on my heel and walked up the stone stairs, throwing my bedroom door shut with a force that rattled the iron hinges.

Minutes later, the thunderous roar of his stallion echoed outside the courtyard. Draven was gone, racing back to the borders where Mireya waited.

Exhausted, I dragged myself to the washbasin and splashed freezing well water over my face. The shock cleared the fog in my mind, but it did nothing to ease the agonizing ache in my side.

I pulled out my communication slate and opened the secure link to a rogue pack lawyer I had contacted three years ago, demanding the immediate preparation of a dissolution of the territory bond.

"Lord Vexley, do you have specific demands?" the lawyer’s text flashed. "Land shares? Silver coin? Retribution hunting grounds?"

My fingers hovered over the slate before typing back with chilling calm. "I want absolutely nothing."

I was stripping myself of Draven. Why would I keep his scraps?

The paperwork would process faster if uncontested, allowing me to slip away before my failing body betrayed me completely.

The lawyer returned the magical scroll within the hour.

My grip on the quill was so tight my knuckles turned stark white, but I signed my name across the parchment, letter by letter, without a single tear falling.

Then, ignoring the sharp, stabbing heat in my ribs, I threw my meager belongings into a leather traveling pack.

At the threshold of the lodge, I cast one final look at the halls I had quietly tended for three long years.

I stepped out into the night and never looked back.

The following dawn, I sent a message to the pack house claiming sudden illness, then hired a feral courier to deliver the signed dissolution papers directly to the front desk of the Calder Dominion fortress.

Draven never looked at low-level pack mail, so I marked the scroll directly for Ronzek’s attention.

I had taken a position within the Calder Dominion's Mooncrest Relations Division the very day we secretly bound ourselves.

He never wanted the high Alphas to know a male wolf of my rank held his hand, nor did he allow me near his inner circle. Instead, he buried me in public relations, using my skills to manage the pack's diplomatic image.

For three years, I had never shirked a single duty or missed a council meeting.

It wasn't out of pack loyalty; it was simply my nature to endure and execute perfectly.

But now that I was severing the bond, there was no purpose left for me within the Calder walls.

By the time the courier disappeared into the trees, the sun was high over the pines. Nearly the tenth hour.

I balled my hands into fists, a different kind of adrenaline overriding the pain in my chest. I had a far more vital destination today.

Bloodmoon Iron Hold.

My palms left slick marks against the iron steering wheel of my transport. Three years had passed since I last looked upon his face. No matter how many deep breaths I took, my inner wolf paced anxiously in my gut.

Aziel Crowbane was finally walking free today.

I had reserved a private room at a secluded tavern a full moon cycle in advance to mark his return to the wild.

Aziel was my father’s adopted son, raised alongside me in the brutal, unforgiving Vexley pack dynamics. In a family built on cruelty, Aziel was the sole soul who had ever guarded me. He spent a decade taking the lashes meant for me, never snarling at my weaknesses, never breaking a promise. He swore to me once: the entire world could turn its fangs on me, but he would bleed before he ever caused me harm.

I checked my reflection in the side mirror. My skin looked ghostly, the silver-rot draining my natural color, so I rubbed rough bark against my cheeks until the blood rushed to the surface, mimicking health. To ensure he suspected nothing, I swallowed another heavy dose of crushed wolfsbane duller, then pulled my fur-lined hood low over my eyes.

The massive silver-reinforced gates of the iron hold began to grind upward.

My legs moved on pure instinct, stepping out onto the gravel, my hands trembling against the cold mountain air.

A massive, broad-shouldered warrior clad in dark leather strode through the threshold, a weathered canvas sack slung over his shoulder. His dark hair was roughly shorn, and his amber gaze swept the treeline with dangerous, hyper-vigilant intensity until his eyes locked directly onto me.

My heart hammered violently against my ruined ribs under the weight of that look.

My throat closed, my vision blurred with a sudden, overwhelming heat, and before my mind could stop my feet, I was running toward him. "Aziel..."