Chapter 3

The wind of the Forbidden Forest brushed against my cheeks.

I pulled my cloak tighter and stepped over the carpet of dead branches, heading deeper and deeper into the woods.

Without the strong constitution of a high-blooded werewolf, the journey was brutal.

Thorns carved red lines across the backs of my bare hands, but I didn't even think about stopping to tend to them.

Compared to the humiliation and coldness Kayden had dealt me all this time, a little flesh wound was nothing.

At the end of the forest stood a broken-down wooden cabin.

The door creaked open, and the thick smell of herbs hit me at once.

By the fire in the corner, a wandering witch in a gray robe stirred a black iron pot.

"Wolf-less one."

She didn't look up. Her voice was low and hoarse.

"This isn't a place you should be."

I walked to the wooden table, untied the pouch at my waist, and poured out every coin inside.

Coins of all sizes clinked and scattered across the wood.

It was everything I'd saved over the years, doing odd jobs for the pack.

"I need a rejection potion."

My voice came out calm. Calmer than I'd expected.

The witch stopped stirring. Her clouded eyes lifted and fixed on me, direct and unblinking.

"Are you sure? Once this potion takes effect, the rules of fate will force it through. There's no reversing it. Your fated mate will endure the agony of a soul tearing in two—and you will carry the price of breaking the bond forever."

"I'm sure."

I answered without a heartbeat of hesitation.

The witch let out a dry little laugh, turned, and pulled a small glass vial from a dust-caked shelf. She held it out to me.

Inside, the liquid shimmered with an eerie silver light in the dim room—cold and sharp to the eye.

"Take it."

She watched me close my fingers around the vial, then spoke again, abrupt.

"Little girl, your fate isn't a simple one. Once you cut the bond, there may be a surprise waiting for you."

I gripped the vial tight and said nothing.

Whether my fate was simple or not—it stopped mattering a long time ago.

My only wish now was to leave Kayden completely.

To walk out of this cage that called itself protection but was really just training.

By the time I got back to our cabin in the Frostmoon Pack, the sky had gone fully dark.

I stood in front of the mirror and looked at myself.

Pale. Gaunt. Hollowed out.

Was this the Luna Kayden wanted?

Someone who couldn't ask for love. Couldn't show weakness. Couldn't have a mind of her own.

Someone he could neglect when he pleased, scold when he pleased.

I clutched the glass vial, my dry throat working.

"I, Ella Gray…"

The moment the words left me, my voice started to shake.

I pulled in a few deep breaths, forced down the ache in my chest, and kept going.

"…reject you, Kayden Ashford, as my mate…"

A tear fell and struck the floor, spreading a dark, wet stain.

I shouldn't be crying.

But when I thought of all those hopes that died, one after another, these past six months—the fevers I'd burned through alone in the dark, all those moments he'd shoved me aside without a second thought…

Let this tear be a farewell to the fool I used to be.

I wiped the wetness from the corner of my eye with the back of my hand and tucked the vial carefully into a hidden slot beneath the bed.

Then I dragged an old wicker trunk out from under it.

Inside were only two plain sets of rough cloth clothes, some dried food, and a few things for self-defense.

The things Kayden had sent—the fine dresses, the jewelry, even a single hairpin—I took none of it.

If I was leaving, I was leaving clean.

"Kayden."

I looked at the mirror on the vanity, moonlight glinting off the glass, and spoke softly.

"You said you'd wait until I was worthy of you. But now—I don't want you anymore."

"Tomorrow night, on the full moon, at your coronation—I'll leave you forever."