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Archer’s fork clattered onto his plate. He looked up at his parents.

“What do you mean she’s getting married?” he asked, his voice barely a whisper. His parents shared a concerned glance.

“Yes, Archer. She’ll be leaving-”

“She can’t leave!” he shouted, standing up, his chair flying backwards and crashing into the ground.

“It’s already been decided,” his mother replied.

“What?! When?!”

“Archer, sit down,” his father said.

“No!” Archer spat back. “You can’t just spring this on me and then expect me to be calm!”

“Planning has been in the works for weeks,” his mother sighed.

“Weeks…” Archer felt like his heart had been crushed in his chest. “She didn’t tell me…”

“I’m not surprised after…” his father made a sweeping hand gesture.

“I made one mistake-”

“We all know it wasn’t a one-time thing, Archer,” his mother glared. His mother had been one of the most angry in the pack at Archer’s past actions. Archer gripped the tablecloth as his hands turned into fists.

“I never thought she’d be my mate,” he whispered.

“That’s no excuse, and you know it,” his father barked.

“Aren’t all kids little shits?” Archer asked.

“Not all kids push their future mate into a pond and hold her head under water!” his mother shouted. Archer winced and looked away. He deserved that. It was one of the many ways he had been cruel to Ariadne.

“I just…” he whispered.

“We don’t need to rehash the past,” his father sighed. “Since she clearly wasn’t warming up to you, it was decided she would marry outside of the pack.”

“So she’s being forced to marry-”

“She consented to marry him,” his mother hissed. His father put a hand on her arm to try and calm her.

“... Who?” Archer whispered.

“... King Kurnich,” his father said softly. Archer wanted to be sick. King Kurnich, king of the Lycan. The more wolf-like cousins of the werewolves. Known for their vicious tempers. Brutes. And Ariadne was going to marry their king?

“No,” Archer whispered.

“It’s for the good of the pack,” his father glared. “It’s a political-”

“But not for her good!”

“What would you know about her good?” his mother asked, rolling her eyes as she reached for the wine. “I don’t think you were thinking of anyone but yourself when you tormented her.”

Archer watched, his face blanching. He knew his past actions had lowered his family’s reputation in the pack.

“... This isn’t fair,” he whispered. “I’d been trying so hard to make her feel better. If I’d had more time-”

“You both learned you were fated when she first shifted. You had almost four years to make it up to her,” his father replied. “And any number of years before that.”

Archer slammed his fists on the table.

“This isn’t fair!” he replied, shouting.

“Watch your tone,” his mother growled.

Archer swallowed hard, his fists trembling as he tried to stop tears from falling.

“When?” he whispered. “When is she leaving?”

His mother didn’t respond as she drank a large gulp of wine. His father glanced at the clock. Archer’s eyes widened.

“Today?” he whispered.

No response.

“... Now?!” he burst.

“... Now,” his father replied.

Archer felt his knees go weak.

“We can’t let her go, not like this,” Nieve, his wolf, said in his mind. Adrenaline shot through Archer, and he burst out of their room in the pack house.

“Ariadne!” Archer called as he sprinted down the twisting hallways of the pack house.

Other pack members saw him coming and moved out of the way.

Archer sniffed the air, his ears twitching. Ariadne was close to the outside. Probably in the main foyer.

Looking down, he could see the ruby shimmer of the mate string connecting them. He was close.

He skidded around the corner and raced toward the main staircase. Looking down…

There she was.

Her dark hair cascaded down her back in the curls he loved. A dark red cloak with the Lycan’s insignia was wrapped around her slight frame.

“Ariadne!” he shouted. Her green eyes flicked toward him. His heart thudded.

“Is that him?” Kurnich growled. He put his clawed hand onto Ariadne’s shoulder, lowering his wolfish head down to her level. Kurnich’s red eyes glowed softly.

“... Yes,” Ariadne said coolly. “That’s my mate.”

Archer felt his breath hitch as she said that. 

That’s right.

He was her mate.

They could fix this. As long as they were connected.

“Ariadne, I just found out. I- I could have helped you. I-”

“Archer,” she said softly. She walked forward, looking up at him. Archer raced down the stairs and pulled her into a tight hug. Nieve growled in his head as his eyes locked with Kurnich. The king of the Lycan just grinned a sharp-toothed grin at Archer, his red eyes gleaming.

“Listen to me,” Ariadne said softly. Archer looked down at her, his heart racing so hard.

“Of course,” he said softly. “Is there a plan is-”

He froze.

He couldn’t hear her thoughts.

When had that changed?

“Wait, Ari-”

“I, Ariadne Sinclaire, reject you…” She looked up at him, her eyes hard. Pain shot through his chest at her words. His lungs felt like they were on fire. The rejection ritual had begun.

“No-” he choked out.

Sigils of the moon goddess formed under his feet and around his wrists.

“Archer Chaple,” she said firmly. Her eyes looked glassy, but she didn’t look like she was in pain.

“Please, don’t-”

The sigils glowed with an icy blue light.

“Accept it, Archer,” she whispered. “It’ll hurt less if you do.”

Ice filled his veins. He fell backwards, and his body prickled with cold. Nieve howled as the moon goddess chained him down while the bond was to be severed.

“No!” Archer screamed. “Never!”

“Arch-”

“Don’t!” he shouted, fighting the freezing magic. “You’re my mate! I’m not letting you go!”

“Some mate,” Kurnich snorted. “Didn’t even realise when the mind link closed a week ago.”

Archer’s heart stuttered.

“A… A week…”

“It’s ok, Archer,” Ariadne said, crouching in front of him.

“No… It’s not,” he whispered, tears falling down his cheeks and freezing to his skin.

“You don’t have to worry about me; you can find a good mate to replace me, and our pack will be safe if I go,” she murmured. Her eyes were dead, none of the sparkle he had learned to love.

Archer let out a strangled cry.

“I don’t want to replace you,” he whispered. “I want you.”

Her neutral expression flickered for a moment.

“I know I’ve been an ass, I’ve hurt you…” He struggled to speak through the freezing effect. “I want to be better. Let me be better. For you…”

For a moment, he thought he saw her eyes soften.

His instincts were screaming to grab hold of her, to keep her safe, to stop her from leaving.

Then, she closed her eyes.

Time slowed as the moon goddess’s sword fell between them. The large white saber moved down, aiming for the mate string.

Archer looked at Ariadne. She was letting this happen. She was…

She was…

Archer couldn’t let it happen.

He used all his strength to force himself to move, breaking the icy seals that had been keeping him restrained. He lunged forward, his hand finding the mate string just as the sword sliced it.

“AAH!” he screamed as the skin and meat between his thumb and finger was sliced. Blood streamed down onto the tiled floor of the foyer. His eyes stung with tears. He couldn’t see the mate string.

Where was it?

Before he could register anything else, Kurnich grabbed Ariadne by the shoulder and pulled her away.

“Don’t touch her!” Archer screamed.

“I’m taking my bride home,” the large Lycan growled over his shoulder at Archer.

“Ariadne!” Archer screamed, trying to run after her. 

“Stop him,” he heard Alpha Claymore say. Archer hadn’t even seen that his Alpha was in the room. Two pack warriors grabbed his arms and held them behind his back.

“Let go of me!” he screamed, trying to fight them off. “Ariadne!”

Nieve howled, trying to contact Song, Ariadne’s wolf.

Silence.

Nieve let out a pained whimper.

Archer sobbed, trying to get free but losing the fight.

“I’ll find you!” he screamed as Ariadne and Kurnich walked out into the freezing tundra outside the pack house.

“I’ll find you!”