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No more

Autor: Debbywrites
last update Fecha de publicación: 2026-10-27 19:44:06

No more




I sat frozen in the heavy leather armchair as the truth washed over me in cold, unforgiving waves.I hadn't been unlovable. I had just been a game piece. A prize snatched off a board to spite a rival, then left to rot in a corner for seven years.

Hot, bitter tears spilled over my lashes, tracking burning lines down my cheeks. My hands trembled so violently that I had to ball them into fists to keep from shaking apart completely. Every memory of the past seven years slammed back into me with fresh poison—every late night waiting for Jaxon to come home, every time he brushed me off in public, every cruel comment from Risa that I had quietly swallowed because I thought I wasn't enough.

"Raven..." Zayn stepped forward, reaching out a hand toward my shoulder, his voice thick with concern.

"Don't!" I snapped, flinching away from his touch as if his hand were made of fire.

I pushed myself out of the armchair, my bare feet digging into the soft fur rug. A dangerous mixture of heartbreak and sudden, volatile anger flared up in my chest, burning away the numbness.

"Don't touch me," I breathed, my eyes searching his face wildly, looking for the catch, the lie, the secondary angle.

 "What about you, Zayn? What about the shawls left at my door when I was freezing? The anonymous herbs when I was sick? The quiet visits across the border? Did you only start noticing me at sixteen because I was in Obsidian Moon territory? Were you just using me to get under Jaxon's skin, too?"

The words tore out of my throat, sharp and frantic. "Am I just a trophy for both of you to drag back and forth across your stupid borders?!"

Zayn stopped dead in his tracks. For a fraction of a second, a flash of genuine, unadulterated pain crossed his golden eyes—so sharp it looked as though I had struck him across the chest with a blade.

He didn't raise his voice. He didn't drop his posture into a defensive Alpha stance. He simply took two deliberate steps forward, closing the distance between us until he was standing directly in front of me, refusing to let me hide behind my doubts.

"Look at me, Raven," he commanded quietly.

I tried to avert my eyes, but he gently reached out, his long fingers cupping my jaw, forcing my gaze to meet his. His skin was warm, his grip tender yet completely unyielding.

"I noticed you in that marketplace long before I ever stepped onto Shadow Ridge to fight Jaxon," Zayn said, his voice ringing with absolute, undeniable truth.

 "I brought those herbs to your door because I saw a girl working herself to the bone for a family that didn't appreciate her. I backed away seven years ago when Jaxon claimed you because I thought—God help me, I thought he would make you happy. I thought if I pushed, I would bring a bloody war to your doorstep and ruin your life."

His thumb brushed a stray tear from my cheekbone, his touch light enough to make my chest ache.

"Jaxon used you to hurt me," Zayn whispered, his eyes dark with an intense, burning promise. "But my feelings for you were never a game. They were never about pride, or land, or victory. You are not a trophy, Raven. And I will spend every single day of my life proving that to you if you let me."

I stared up into his golden eyes, my breath catching in my throat. Deep inside my chest, Ember purred softly, completely settled, recognizing the truth in his voice even as my human heart tried to protect itself behind walls of fear.

Before I could form a response, a sharp, frantic knock echoed through the heavy wooden doors of the study.

The heavy atmosphere in the room instantly shattered. Zayn’s hands dropped from my face, his Alpha authority snapping back into place in a fraction of a second as he turned toward the entrance.

"Enter," Zayn barked, his voice cold and hard.

The heavy door swung open, and Vane, Zayn’s head of intelligence, stepped into the room. His posture was rigid, his face pale, holding a sealed parchment scroll with a crimson wax stamp. Directly behind him swept Selene, her silk robes rustling against the floor, her sharp features twisted into a look of controlled fury and satisfaction.

"Alpha," Vane said, bowing his head deeply. "An urgent missive just arrived from the High Regional Council. It was delivered by Jaxon Bloodworth's personal emissary."

Zayn’s eyes narrowed into dangerous slits. "Read it."

Vane unrolled the parchment, his voice crisp and grave as he read the formal script. "Alpha Jaxon has officially filed a formal territorial dispute against Midnight Pack. He claims this pack is illegally harboring an un-released, chosen mate. He has invoked the Ancient Pack Accord."

Vane paused, swallowing hard before continuing. "Under Council Law, until Raven officially signs a formal Mate Severance or returns to Obsidian Moon, all trade routes, diplomatic treaties, and border agreements between Midnight Pack and the surrounding territories are officially frozen."

My stomach dropped into a bottomless pit.

Jaxon was using the legal system to suffocate Midnight Pack. He couldn't defeat Zayn in a direct fight at the gate, so he was going to starve Zayn’s people economically just to force me back into his hands.

"He's trying to trap us," Selene interjected smoothly, stepping past Vane, her cold eyes fixing entirely on me like a hawk targeting prey. "He knows our primary winter supply routes pass through the eastern corridor. If the Council freezes our trade, our lower-ranking wolves and families will be starving within weeks."

Selene turned to Zayn, her chin raised high, playing her cards with expert precision. "You see what this girl brings to our doors, Alpha? Chaos. Blockades. Potential war. The Elders are already convening in the lower hall. They will demand you hand her back to resolve the dispute before the blockade takes effect."

"The Elders can demand whatever they please," Zayn growled, a low, rumbling vibration echoing from his chest that made the floorboards beneath us vibrate. "Raven stays."

"She is an unmated Beta with no official standing here!" Selene countered sharply, dropping her deferential tone completely. 

"She has no legal right to asylum under Council Law unless she holds a formal position or rank within Midnight Pack!"

"Then I will give her one," Zayn shot back instantly, step for step, his golden eyes flashing with dominant fury.

"You can't just grant rank to an outsider, Zayn!" Selene snapped. "The Elders will call it tyranny! They will never accept it!"

"Enough!"

The voice that echoed through the vast study didn't come from Zayn. It came from me.

All eyes in the room snapped to where I stood by the hearth. My fists were clenched tightly at my sides, my chest heaving as the last remnant of my self-doubt burned away, replaced by a white-hot, unyielding resolve.

I looked at Selene's shocked face, then at Vane, and finally at Zayn.

For seven years, I had let other people decide who I was. I had let my mother dismiss me, my brother ignore me, Jaxon use me, and Risa steal from me. I had run away to the border road, and I had hidden behind Zayn's shadow while he fought my battles. No more.

"I'm not going back to Obsidian Moon," I said, my voice ringing out completely steady, echoing off the high stone walls. "And I'm not going to let Jaxon use me as a weapon to destroy this pack."

I stepped around the armchair, walking straight up to Zayn, looking him dead in the eye.

"Tell me what I need to do," I said firmly. "Tell me what rank I need to earn, what training I need to complete, or what trial I need to pass. I don't want your pity, Zayn, and I don't want to be protected like a helpless guest anymore. Give me a place in this pack, and I will earn my asylum myself."

A slow, breathtaking smile broke across Zayn’s face—not his cold, arrogant Alpha smirk, but a look of fierce, unadulterated pride that lit up his golden eyes like sunlight.

"Vane," Zayn commanded softly, never breaking eye contact with me. "Send word to the Elders. Tell them the Trial of the Crescent Moon begins tomorrow morning. Raven will earn her mark, or Midnight Pack will answer for her."

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  • Too late to cry, I won’t take you back    Lessons in the dark

    Lessons in the dark The night air hung thick and freezing over the unmapped border zone, the bitter scent of damp soil and iron lingering in my raw throat.Pinned against the rough bark of the massive oak tree, my lungs screamed for oxygen. The tracker’s calloused fingers dug deeper into my windpipe, trapping my head against the wood while the second warrior stepped forward, his blunt iron training blade flashing cold in the moonlight. Panic beat wildly in my chest. I had relied on speed, on agility, on outrunning the shadows and now, trapped with zero leverage, I was entirely at their mercy.Before the second hunter could bring the weapon down, a low, commanding voice cut through the dark like a blade."Enough."The pressure on my throat vanished instantly. The two pack champions stepped back, bowing their heads in unison before melting backward into the tree line.I collapsed onto my knees in the damp moss, coughing violently as cold air rushed into my starved lungs. I pressed a tr

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  • Too late to cry, I won’t take you back    Seventy two hours

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  • Too late to cry, I won’t take you back    No more

    No moreI sat frozen in the heavy leather armchair as the truth washed over me in cold, unforgiving waves.I hadn't been unlovable. I had just been a game piece. A prize snatched off a board to spite a rival, then left to rot in a corner for seven years.Hot, bitter tears spilled over my lashes, tracking burning lines down my cheeks. My hands trembled so violently that I had to ball them into fists to keep from shaking apart completely. Every memory of the past seven years slammed back into me with fresh poison—every late night waiting for Jaxon to come home, every time he brushed me off in public, every cruel comment from Risa that I had quietly swallowed because I thought I wasn't enough."Raven..." Zayn stepped forward, reaching out a hand toward my shoulder, his voice thick with concern."Don't!" I snapped, flinching away from his touch as if his hand were made of fire.I pushed myself out of the armchair, my bare feet digging into the soft fur rug. A dangerous mixture of heartbrea

  • Too late to cry, I won’t take you back    Trophy of spite

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