Chapter 2:Shattered bonds

Freya’s POV

“Mom…” I called softly, my voice barely escaping through the lump in my throat.

The door to their room was half open, and I froze when I heard the argument tearing through the silence.

“How the hell did that happen?” my father’s voice roared, shaking the walls. Something crashed against the table, making me flinch.

“We both know what happened!” my mother yelled back, her tone trembling between fury and heartbreak. “She’s wolfless, and that’s why he rejected her!”

My breath caught. The words felt like another rejection — louder, crueler — echoing straight through my chest.

I took a hesitant step closer, the wooden floor creaking beneath my feet. Through the narrow gap in the door, I could see my mother pacing, fingers tangled in her hair, tears glistening down her cheeks.

“Well, you gave birth to her,” my father snapped, slamming his fist onto the table again. “She’s your daughter. If anyone’s to blame for this shame, it’s you—for giving birth to a wolfless girl!”

His words hit like a physical blow, stealing the air from my lungs.

My mother’s head snapped up, her eyes burning. “Our daughter!” she shouted. “Don’t you dare put this on me, Richard! You put her in me! If I was the one to blame, then tell me—why does her brother have a wolf?”

Her voice cracked at the end, and that broke something in me.

I pressed my hand against my chest, feeling the ache spread. The same pain from earlier, the hollow where my bond had been, now mixed with something deeper — the realization that even my own parents couldn’t look past what I lacked.

“Keep your voice down,” my father hissed. “You want the pack to hear that our daughter—our Alpha’s fated mate—was rejected because she’s broken? You want them to laugh at us?”

Tears burned behind my eyes. Broken. That was what I was now.

My mother sagged onto the bed, sobs shaking her shoulders. “She didn’t choose this,” she whispered. “She’s still our daughter.”

"Her brother still has to be the beta, and while a dispute is surely going to occur because he rejected her in front of the entire pack, we cannot ruin the life of another, because of a wolfless daughter," my father, raged, his eyes burning with anger.

"So you're not going to fight for her?despite the humiliation?" My mother asked, evening I could feel in her voice that she was leaning onto his side and my father’s silence said everything.

They couldn't risk a wolfless daughter for the position of the beta.

I couldn’t stay there anymore.

Quietly, I stepped back from the door, my vision blurring as I stumbled down the hall. The house felt too small, too full of words I wasn’t meant to hear.

The rejection hadn’t just come from Micah anymore.

It came from home.

I dragged my feet back to my room, and the moment the door slammed close, it felt as though something broke inside of me.

The first tear dropped, followed by the second, and after the third, the whole dam broke.

My knees gave out, and I sank to the floor, pressing my palms against my mouth to muffle the sobs that tore out of me. Every word I’d overheard replayed in my head, cutting deeper each time. Wolfless. Broken. Shame.

I had tried to be everything they wanted—obedient, quiet, strong—but how could I fight what I didn’t have? How could I defend something that wasn’t there?

I wanted to hate Micah for rejecting me, but in that moment, I hated myself more.

I crawled toward the small mirror by my bed, my reflection blurred through tears. My eyes were red, puffy, lifeless. “What’s so wrong with me?” I whispered to no one.

There was no answer, only silence. The same silence that had followed me since my first shift never came. The night my brother howled for the first time and my mother cried tears of joy — I had just stood there, empty, waiting for a wolf that never spoke back.

I thought maybe it would come later. Maybe the Moon Goddess was just testing me. But years passed, and the silence stayed.

And now it had cost me everything — my mate, my pride, and my place in this family.

I wiped my face with trembling hands, my breath uneven. “I can’t stay here,” I whispered, the words trembling as they left my lips.

Because if I did, I’d break for real.

I stood, legs unsteady, and stumbled into the bathroom. The cold water hit my skin like a slap, washing away the tears but not the ache underneath. I stared at myself in the mirror again — the same girl, just emptier.

I needed a plan. Something fast, something that wouldn’t draw attention. If my father found out I was leaving, he’d stop me — not because he cared, but because my disappearance would bring shame. And with my twin brother’s position as Beta on the line, this... this was the perfect distraction.

I forced a shaky breath, straightened my shoulders, and walked out of my room. Each step down the staircase felt like walking on glass. My heart pounded against my ribs, but I kept my expression steady.

I stopped in front of my parents’ door and knocked softly — just enough to sound calm, like I hadn’t heard every cruel thing they said.

“The Alpha family called,” I said when the door opened, forcing a small smile.

My mother’s eyes widened. “You mean Micah did?” she asked quickly, hope lighting her face.

“Yes,” I replied, keeping my voice light. “He said he wants to apologize for what happened earlier today.”

Silence filled the room for a moment as they exchanged glances. My father’s jaw tightened, but the hope in my mother’s eyes seemed to win.

“He wants to apologize…” she repeated quietly, her lips trembling into something close to a smile.

“Yes,” I lied again, steadying my breathing.

They nodded, my mother clutching at my father’s arm. “Then we have to leave now,” she said urgently. “We can’t keep the Alpha family waiting.”

“Of course,” my father agreed, straightening his shirt.

And just like that, they hurried past me, their footsteps echoing down the stairs, out the front door, and into the night.

The moment I heard the car start, I exhaled — a sharp, shaky breath that burned my lungs.

They were gone.

I turned toward the stairs, my heart racing faster than ever.

It was time.