C4

She stared at his broad shoulders in the dim light of the courtyard, waiting for him to turn back.

"I don’t know if I find that sad or just plain manipulative," Daven finally admitted, his head turning back just enough for her to see his clenching jaw, though his body remained angled toward the den.

"You wanted honesty," Genesis said, her palms sweating as her wolf whimpered at the distance between them.

"Yeah, and the truth is pretty damning, wouldn't you say?" Daven let out a harsh breath that smelled of the blood-wine. "You haven't been happy, Gen. Neither have I. We don't belong together. Having a pup with your pretend mate isn't going to miraculously fix what is broken inside you."

"I am not broken," Genesis protested, her voice cracking as the lie cut her throat.

Daven laughed, a dry, brittle bark that echoed off the stone walls. "You might not be, but I am. You and this pathetic excuse of a mating broke me. That is as honest as I can get with you right now. I am leaving the territory tomorrow."

"Please don't," Genesis whispered, but the heavy oak doors of the den slammed shut before the plea could even reach his ears.

Genesis stood frozen in the middle of the dark stone path, with nothing but the loud chirping of a wild cricket for company and her entire life shattered at her feet.

The pale morning light of the Wolfpine Coast filtered through the high arched windows of the chamber, finding Genesis awake after a night of endless nightmares. She lay beneath the heavy wolf-fur blankets, staring blankly at the vaulted stone ceiling as the reality of the last twenty-four hours settled heavily into her chest.

Daven was leaving her.

Even though she had lived in constant fear of this very rejection since the day they knelt before the pack elders, the actual blow felt entirely surreal and unearned.

She had let her fear of getting hurt build a wall of ice around her heart, and in doing so, she had driven her true mate away. It was her fault. She should have let him in. She accepted the blame, but her wolf clawed at her ribs, begging for another chance to fix their bond.

Her rational mind told her to accept the rejection, pack her satchel, and return to her father’s territory at the Ravenmoor Citadel.

But her stubborn Wrenmoor pride refused to let her give up, and her heart—the one she thought was so perfectly guarded—ached with a violent, throbbing pain at the thought of losing the Alpha she had never truly allowed herself to claim.

He had been brutal and unyielding last night, but she hoped the cold morning air had softened his anger.

The mere thought of baring her soul to him, of showing him the fragile, wounded female behind the fierce pack healer, terrified her. What if she laid her raw vulnerabilities at his feet and he still rejected her?

That crippling fear of being cast out, fueled by an insecurity she hid from the rest of the Silvermoon Dominion, kept her pinned to the mattress.

"It has to be fine," Genesis whispered to the empty room, her eyes stinging with unshed tears.

The harsh morning sun made the stone chamber feel too bright, too mockingly cheerful. She usually woke at dawn to tend to the pack's sick, so she had never installed heavy furs over the high windows, allowing the bright light to spill across the wooden floorboards.

She turned her head, looking out at the tops of the whispering pines swaying in the cold breeze. Her stomach twisted into a violent, painful knot as her wolf stirred, sensing the tiny, growing life inside her that Daven knew nothing about.

She had to force her limbs to move and go down to the training grounds to find him. Daven was always an early riser, usually spending his mornings running the borders or practicing his combat forms on the private wooden posts behind the den.

He was incredibly lethal with a broadsword and bare claws, training daily until his hands were rough and heavily calloused.

Having a private training ring had been his only condition when they chose this estate in Hollowmere Heights.

There were so many things she hadn't known about him before their mating, and so many things she had been too proud to ask.

She used to watch him secretly from the stone balcony while she broke her fast, admiring the smooth, predatory grace of his movements as he sliced through the wooden targets. She had always pretended to be reading her healing scrolls, terrified he would think she was weak, or worse, desperate for his attention.

Now she wondered how he would have reacted if she had just walked down to the ring and let him see how much she craved him.

Genesis finally climbed out of the bed, throwing on a simple leather tunic, but her search of the grand estate yielded only silence.

Daven was gone.

The painful truth became undeniable an hour later when she stood in his personal quarters, staring at his half-empty wardrobes and the lack of his grooming oils by the stone basin. She walked through the quiet corridors of the den, her throat tight as she realized the only room left to check was the small chamber adjoining the master suite.

It was the room they had set aside for their nursery before her miscarriage.

Genesis pushed the heavy wooden door open, her heart hammering against her ribs as she stepped into the space she hadn't entered in over a year. The infant cradle, carved from sturdy oak and still wrapped in protective sheepskin, stood abandoned against the far wall.

On the rocking chair by the window sat the massive, white shadow-wolf plush that Daven had carved and stuffed for her the night he asked her father for her hand.

She stared at the carved wooden eyes of the toy, the memory of his nervous, beautiful smile hitting her with the force of a physical blow.

The door behind her creaked, and Genesis spun around, her breath catching as Elka stood in the doorway, holding a sealed parchment bearing the official wax seal of the Elderfang Haven pack.

"He left at dawn, Gen," Elka said softly, her eyes filled with pity as she held out the letter. "He signed the temporary separation papers and left them with the pack beta before he rode out."