Chapter 4

​The Hollow Victory

POV: Alpha Kaelen Blackwood

​The silence in the ballroom was louder than the music had ever been.

​Five minutes ago, this room had been filled with the clinking of crystal, the rustle of silk, and the polite murmurs of alliance-building. Now, it was a tomb. The air still reeked of ozone and burnt sugar-the scent of a severed mate bond. It was a smell that triggered a primal panic in every wolf present, a biological warning that something sacred had been violated.

​I stood in the center of the polished floor, my chest heaving. My hands were clenched into fists at my sides, tight enough that my nails bit into the palms.

​I did it, I told myself. I did what had to be done.

​But my wolf, Rage, was not listening to reason. Inside my head, the great black beast was thrashing against the bars of my mind, howling a sound of pure, unadulterated loss. He was clawing at my chest, trying to take control, trying to run after her.

​SHE IS OURS, Rage roared, his voice shaking my mental foundations. YOU THREW HER AWAY.

​She was weak, I snapped back mentally, clamping down on the bond with an iron will. She was wolfless, Rage. A runt. We are the strongest pack in the North. We cannot have a Luna who cannot even shift. The pack would be laughed at. We would be targeted.

​SHE WAS FATED, Rage snarled, retreating into the back of my mind to sulk in the darkness.

​"Kaelen?"

​A hand touched my arm. I flinched, nearly snarling before I realized it was Zara. She was looking up at me with wide, feigned concern, though I could see the gleam of triumph in her eyes. The scent of her expensive perfume-roses and vanilla-cloyed at my throat. It was pleasant, but it lacked the earthy, intoxicating pull of…

​I shut that thought down.

​"Are you okay, baby?" Zara cooed, running a manicured hand down my bicep. "That was... intense. I can't believe the Goddess played such a cruel trick on you. Pairing you with the help? It’s insulting."

​"It’s handled," I said, my voice sounding rougher than usual. I pulled away from her touch. I needed space. I needed air. "Go back to your table, Zara. I need to speak with my father."

​She pouted, but she knew better than to push me when my aura was this volatile. "Don't be long. We have a dance to finish."

​I turned on my heel and stormed out of the ballroom, the crowd parting like the Red Sea. I could feel their eyes on me. Some looked fearful, respecting the ruthlessness I had just shown. But others... others looked at me with confusion. To reject a fated mate was a sin against nature. It brought bad luck.

​I didn't care about luck. I believed in power.

​I pushed into my private study and slammed the heavy oak door, finally cutting off the noise of the party. I walked to the liquor cabinet and poured three fingers of amber whiskey, downing it in one burn.

​It didn't numb the pain.

​There was a phantom ache in my chest, right where my heart beat. It felt like someone had tied a string to my sternum and pulled it tight.

​A knock sounded at the door.

​"Enter," I barked.

​It was Marcus. My Beta-in-training and head enforcer. He stepped inside, bringing a gust of cold air with him. He smelled of mud and the river.

​"Report," I said, not turning around. I stared into the bottom of my empty glass.

​"It’s done, Alpha," Marcus said. His voice was flat, professional. "I escorted the girl to the northern boundary."

​My hand tightened on the glass. "Did she... struggle?"

​"Barely. She was weak, Kaelen. She couldn't even stand on her own. I watched her cross the fallen oak over the Black River."

​"She crossed into the Wildlands?"

​"Yes."

​I closed my eyes. The Wildlands. It was negative ten degrees out there tonight, and the woods were crawling with rogues. A shifted warrior wouldn't last a night alone without supplies. A human in a servant’s dress?

​She was already dead.

​A strange, cold sensation washed over me. I had expected relief. I had expected the problem to be solved. Instead, I felt a sudden, sharp nausea.

​"Did you kill her?" I asked quietly.

​"I didn't have to," Marcus replied, pouring himself a drink uninvited. "The cold will take her before midnight. Or the wolves. I saw fresh tracks near the treeline. Shadow tracks."

​I turned around sharply. "Shadow Wolves? This close to the border?"

​Marcus nodded grimly. "Big ones. If she ran into them... well, it would have been quick."

​I set my glass down on the desk with a heavy thud. Elara Vance was dead. The girl I had grown up with, the girl whose eyes used to follow me with shy adoration before I learned to despise her weakness... she was gone.

​"Good," I said. The word tasted like ash. "Let it be known that the pack is cleansed of weakness. We start fresh tomorrow."

​"And Zara?" Marcus asked, raising an eyebrow.

​"I will mark her at the Winter Solstice," I said mechanically. "She is strong. Her bloodline is influential. She will make a proper Luna."

​"She's a bitch," Marcus muttered into his glass.

​"She's a wolf," I corrected. "That’s all that matters."

​Suddenly, a wave of dizziness hit me. I grabbed the edge of the desk to steady myself. Rage howled in the back of my mind, a sound of mournful agony that made my knees weak.

​Gone, Rage whimpered. Our light is gone.

​"Get out, Marcus," I rasped, bowing my head.

​"Kaelen?"

​"GET OUT!" I roared, my eyes flashing gold.

​Marcus set his glass down and retreated instantly. As the door clicked shut, I sank into the leather chair behind my desk. I pressed my hand against my chest, trying to massage away the ache.

​It was just the bond breaking. That was all. It was a physical side effect. It would pass. 

Tomorrow, I would wake up, and the pain would be gone. I would be the Alpha this pack needed. I would be strong.

​I looked out the window toward the North, toward the dark, jagged line of the forest where the snow was falling.

​"Goodbye, Elara," I whispered to the empty room.

​I didn't know it then, but I wasn't saying goodbye to a burden. I was saying goodbye to the only thing that could have saved me.