A Broken Bond

(Freya's POV)

Aaron’s hand on my arm was rough as he all but pushed me into the bathroom, his movements sharp and cold. I stumbled slightly, catching myself on the edge of the sink as he stepped back and slammed the door shut. The loud *bang* echoed, making my wolf whimper within me.

I stood there frozen, my breath shaky. I listened, the sound of his firm footsteps retreating growing fainter until they vanished completely. Only then did I dare to move. My hand reached up slowly, brushing away the tears that had already started to fall.

The bathroom light buzzed softly, casting harsh shadows on the tiled floor. I reached into my pocket and pulled out the paper that had meant the world to me just hours ago—the hospital report. My fingers trembled as I unfolded it, the crinkled edges damp from the rain.

The words blurred before my eyes: *Pregnancy Confirmed*.

My wolf howled softly in my chest, but it sounded far away, like an echo I couldn’t grasp.

What a fool I'd been. I had imagined a joyous moment with Aaron, sharing this news together. I thought, perhaps for once, we could be more than just two shadows passing by in the same pack house.

But what happened today shattered even that slim hope.

My mind replayed the events of the night over and over. He never went anywhere without his phone—it was practically an extension of him as Alpha King. Someone else must have sent that message, leading me to that club, watching me from above as I stood in the rain like a naive fool.

A bitter laugh slipped from my lips. It felt ugly, raw. My hands tightened on the report, and before I could even think twice, I ripped it apart, the paper shredding into worthless pieces in my hands. One by one, I tossed them into the toilet and flushed.

My stomach tightened as the water swirled, taking away what should have been my joy.

I stepped into the shower, letting the hot water beat down on me. I stayed there longer than I needed to, hoping it could wash away more than just the cold rain. But hope was a dangerous thing, wasn’t it?

When I finally emerged, I wrapped a towel around my body and stared into the mirror. My reflection stared back with red-rimmed eyes, hair clinging wetly to my cheeks. But I ignored the sight. What did appearances matter now?

Steeling myself, I walked out of the bathroom, my steps hesitant. Aaron was sitting at his desk, his broad shoulders hunched as he typed away on his laptop. The soft glow of the screen lit up his face, making his sharp features appear even colder than usual.

His presence filled the room, suffocating in its intensity.

He didn’t even glance at me. Instead, he gestured lazily toward the desk beside him, a steaming cup of herbal tea waiting there.

"Drink it," he said gruffly, his tone clipped. "Good for your health."

I stared at the tea, feeling an ache in my chest. It wasn’t kindness—it was obligation. My lips pressed together as I picked up the cup, but I didn’t take a sip. Instead, I stood there, holding it, watching him.

Aaron was always so focused, so controlled, but tonight there was something else. His movements were sharp, almost impatient.

"Aaron," I said softly, my voice breaking the silence.

He didn’t even look up. "What?" His tone was curt, dismissive.

I hesitated, the words I wanted to say caught in my throat. My gaze traced the outlines of his face, his strong jaw, the way his black hair fell slightly over his temple.

When he finally glanced up, irritation gleamed in his golden eyes. "If you have something to say, then say it," he snapped.

"You…" I began, but before I could finish, he stood abruptly. In the blink of an eye, he closed the distance between us, his hands reaching out to cup my chin.

His lips crashed against mine, rough and demanding. I gasped, the tea slipping from my hands and landing softly onto the carpet, forgotten. His kiss was fierce, desperate, overwhelming. It was as though his wolf had taken over, unable to restrain the pull between us.

I felt my knees weaken, my hands instinctively grasping his arms for balance. But even in the fire of the moment, there was pain. This wasn’t love—it was something else altogether.

Just as I pushed gently against his chest, trying to catch my breath, his phone buzzed loudly on the desk.

Aaron froze instantly, the sound snapping him out of whatever this was. He pulled back, his eyes flashing with some emotion I couldn’t name—anger? Guilt? Regret?

Without a word, he turned away, grabbing his phone. Before answering, he glanced at me, his gaze softening for a fraction of a second. Then, as though caught, he quickly looked away.

"Drink the tea," he muttered, his voice low. "And go to bed. You need rest."

And just like that, he left the room.

I stood unmoving, my lips tingling from his kiss. Confusion battled within me, clawing at the edges of my sanity. I wanted to scream, to cry, to demand what that had been. But instead, I could only watch the door click shut behind him.

The room felt colder after he left.

Without thinking, my feet carried me to the balcony. Aaron’s deep voice drifted through the partially closed door of the adjacent room. I paused, listening against my better judgment.

"Yes, I won’t leave," he said, his tone gentler than I’d ever heard it. "What are you thinking? Get some sleep."

My stomach twisted painfully as the meaning of his words sank in. There was no one else it could be.

I leaned against the railing, the cold metal biting into my hands. A soft, hollow laugh escaped me. He could be so tender, so caring—just not for me.

Back in the bedroom, I sat heavily on the edge of the bed. My thoughts ran wild, flashing painfully vivid memories before me. Images of two years ago, of all the decisions that had led me here.

My family had been wiped out in a single greedy push from neighboring packs. We lost our land, our allies, and our status. What was left of us became a target for vultures—other alphas offering to take me as their mate in exchange for their “help.”

Those were the darkest days of my life. I'd been ready to give up when Aaron returned. He swept in like a storm, shoving aside those who mocked me and protecting my family.

When we found out we were fated mates, I thought it was a twist of fate, a gift from the Moon Goddess.

How naive.

He told me plainly the truth: this was no fairytale. The mating was nothing more than a political exchange, a means to secure his grandmother Elder Katherine’s approval.

I agreed. What choice did I have? He would restore my family’s name, and I would play the part of Luna, even if his heart belonged to someone else.

After two years of trying to fill this role, all I had left in my chest was a hollow ache.

"Still awake?"

Aaron’s deep voice startled me, pulling me back to the present. He sat beside me on the bed, his expression unreadable. His warmth radiated against my side, but it didn’t feel comforting.

My throat tightened. I didn’t turn to face him.

"We need to talk," he said, his tone measured.

I closed my eyes, bracing myself.

"I want to sever our mate bond," he said simply.

Even though I’d expected this, my heart clenched painfully in my chest. The air seemed thinner, harder to breathe.

"When?" I asked, relieved that my voice came out calm and steady.

He hesitated, as though surprised by my composure. Then he cleared his throat and continued. "After my grandmother’s treatment. We’ll wait until she’s fully recovered."

I nodded. Just nodded.

My lack of reaction seemed to unsettle him further. His jaw tightened, his hands clenching into fists. "You’re heartless, you know that?" he muttered, as if daring me to argue.

Two years. Two years of this arrangement, and this was all he had to say.

He lay back on the bed, closing his eyes as if trying to push away whatever discomfort lingered in him.

"Aaron," I said softly after a long silence.

His golden eyes opened, meeting mine. "What do you want to say?"

I stared at him, the words caught in my throat. Finally, I managed to whisper, "Thank you... for these past two years."

The light in his eyes dimmed, his expression unreadable. "You’re so verbose," he said flatly, turning away.

Verbose? The word stung more than it should have.

I turned my back to him, curling up slightly on my side. The walls felt like they were closing in, the bed too large and too empty despite his presence.

We didn’t speak again.

After the bond was severed, I wouldn’t have the chance to thank him. Not again.