Chapter 4

The phone rang almost right away.

"Erin, you've finally made up your mind?"

"Do you know how many times you've turned this down? With your experience, you'd go in as the project lead at the International Pack Council's Geneva office. Double the salary, plus a neutral-zone stipend."

She paused.

"But the minimum posting is two years. Are you sure?"

"I'm sure."

Not a trace of hesitation.

"Does the paperwork spell out the position?"

"Every detail. International Pack Council, Geneva Neutral Zone Field Office. Project Lead for Cross-Border Territory Agreements."

"Good."

I hung up and put my clothes in the suitcase.

The moment the zipper closed, a lightness I'd never felt before settled over me.

Just then, the lock clicked.

Leah came running in by herself.

She held a roasted lamb chop in her hand, her lips shiny with grease.

"Mama Erin, I bet you're only grumpy because you're hungry, right? Look, I saved the biggest, tastiest lamb chop for you."

She walked up to me and pushed the lamb chop into my hands.

"Daddy said after you eat, you should go apologize to Mommy. Then we can all go out for a nice dinner together."

When I ignored her, Leah frowned.

"Come on, go. Don't make Mommy cry again. Last time Mommy cried, Daddy got really, really mad."

My fingers paused on the clothes I was folding.

"She cried last time? When?"

"Three months ago, when your tummy hurt and you were bleeding a lot and went to the pack healer."

Leah chewed on the lamb chop.

"That day Mommy was crying really hard in the kitchen. She told Daddy she truly didn't know the healer had made that bone broth especially for you because you were pregnant."

"Mommy also said she thought the broth was for her. She said it tasted too bland, so she grabbed a handful of that purple herb and put it in..."

My phone hit the floor with a crack.

My whole body shook uncontrollably.

A purple herb.

Wolfsbane.

A grown wolf who swallowed it might burn with fever for a night.

But in a pregnant she-wolf, it could make her wolf reject the pup.

Three months ago.

That night, after drinking the broth, I woke in such agony that I rolled out of bed.

Blood soaked through my nightgown.

The pack healer said I'd ingested wolfsbane and miscarried.

For three months, I'd been certain it was my fault.

I'd drowned in guilt for three endless months.

"Does Daddy know?"

My voice shook so badly I could barely get the words out.

"Daddy was holding Mommy."

Leah thought about it.

"Daddy said it wasn't Mommy's fault. He also said not to tell Mama Erin, because he was afraid you'd throw a fit and upset Mommy."

I stood there in shock for what felt like forever.

It was absurd.

So absurd I couldn't even find the strength to be angry.

"Mama Erin, when are you going to go apologize to Mommy?"

Leah tugged at my arm.

I took a deep breath and steadied myself.

I didn't answer her.

I grabbed my suitcase and walked out without looking back.

Straight out the door, into a cab.

Straight to the airport.

In the cab, I watched the city blur past, closed my eyes, and reached through the mate bond for the first time.

The bond was silent.

I could feel Gavin's wolf.

Steady.

Warm.

A faint trace of Mia's herbal scent still clung to him.

Suddenly, I felt so tired.

"Gavin, let's end the mate bond. And our marriage."

The other end was silent for a long time.

So long I thought he'd finally understood.

But when he finally spoke, his voice was low.

"Erin, don't talk about ending the bond just because you're angry. You've survived the last few months, haven't you? Mia can't handle any stress right now. We'll talk when I get back."

I laughed.

Even while I was breaking apart, he still expected me to be the reasonable one.

I slammed the bond shut.

I opened my files and pulled up the divorce agreement I'd drafted long ago.

I attached the petition to dissolve the mate bond.

I emailed him both documents.

At the end, I typed one line.

"The agreement is in your inbox. Sign it when you get a chance."

Sent.

Then blocked him.

I never hesitated.

By the time I reached the airport, dawn was breaking.

I took the ultrasound photo from my pocket, its tiny outline nearly washed away.

I looked at it for a long time.

Then I tore it apart, piece by piece, and let the wind carry the scraps away.

"I'm sorry, baby."

"Don't come back."

"Next time, choose a better father."

"And a smarter mother."

A moment later, my assistant texted.

"Erin, your transfer paperwork is done, and I got you onto the first flight out. They're boarding now."

"Good."