The Pact is Broken

Reya’s POV

"Do it."

My voice didn’t tremble. My hands didn’t shake. But deep inside, something primal writhed.

The circle was drawn in my own blood—ancient symbols carved with a silver dagger on the forest floor. The trees held their breath. The wind refused to move. Even the moon watched in silence.

Lydia stepped back, her hands soaked in runes and ash. "You understand what this means. Once done, there is no going back."

"That’s the point."

My heartbeat thundered. Not from fear, but anticipation. Freedom dangled on the edge of a blade.

"Begin," I said.

Lydia's voice turned guttural, possessed. "By oath unbound, by bond undone, by moon forsaken and blood outrun—I summon the severance."

I dropped to my knees inside the circle.

Pain.

Not physical, not yet. But my wolf howled the moment the spell brushed our shared soul.

"Reya, something's wrong," she whimpered. "He’s still inside us…his scent, his touch. We’re still bound!"

"Not for long."

I reached into the satchel beside me and pulled out the last tether: Tristan’s mating mark, burned into my shoulder, still faintly glowing after all this time.

I slashed it open with the silver dagger.

Agony tore through me.

Not just mine—his.

Tristan’s POV 

I gasped and stumbled against the desk, clutching my chest.

"Alpha?" Isaac rushed to catch me.

"She's severing it," I hissed. "The bond. Right now."

He paled. "She wouldn’t—"

A scream ripped from my lungs. Not mine. Hers. Inside me.

Then—nothing.

Reya's POV

"Hold her down!" Lydia barked.

My body thrashed, the magic igniting every nerve ending like firecrackers beneath my skin. My wolf was losing her mind.

"He was ours! Our mate! Our fated one!"

"Not anymore."

The circle burned blue.

My spine arched. A final surge of power roared through my veins.

"Moon Goddess, hear me! I release him. I reject him! I break what was sacred and tear the tie!"

A pulse of light exploded from my chest. The forest shook.

And silence.

Not peace. Not calm.

Silence.

The bond was gone.

I collapsed.

Lydia caught me just before I hit the ground.

"It’s done," she whispered. Her voice was hoarse. "Reya…he can’t reach you now. Not even if he dies trying."

My wolf  Ciara whimpered, but she was quiet. For once, she didn’t fight me.

She mourned.

So did I.

But mourning was a luxury I no longer had.

"We need to move," I said hours later, sitting beside a cold fire.

Lydia raised an eyebrow. "You’re still bleeding."

"Chloe is on the run. And Alpha Wyvern is still out there."

Lydia nodded slowly. "You’re different now."

"I’m free. That’s the difference."

She didn’t argue.

We rode hard.

Two of my Lycans joined us on the border trail, reporting sightings of rogue scouts east of the ravine. My guess? Wyvern was regrouping after I tore through his outpost like a blood-soaked banshee.

They called me the Blood Moon now.

Let them.

I earned it.

"Luis’s scent is weak here," one of the guards said. "But someone’s masking it magically. We found this."

A small scrap of cloth. Luis’s shirt.

Still warm.

"He’s close," I said.

But as I reached for it, something surged under my skin. My magic twisted—hard, sudden.

And then a whisper:

"He’s not alone."

I froze. "What did you say?"

The guard blinked. "I didn’t."

Lydia stepped forward. "Reya…what did you feel?"

"Something ancient. Watching."

"Like a mark," she said, eyes narrowing.

"A mark?"

"There’s only one bloodline left who can hide from a Blood Moon. The Marked Ones."

I stood tall. "I need to find my son. Now."

But dread pooled in my gut.

Something else had entered this game. Something older than me. Older than Tristan. Older than the mate-bond I just tore from my soul.

And it wanted blood.

My blood.

We moved at dusk. No fire. No noise.

My senses were sharper now. The severed bond gave me clarity I hadn’t felt in years. No more dreams of him. No more aching at dusk. Just purpose.

A whisper from the trees.

A shift of shadow.

Then a scream.

One of my guards went down, throat slashed before he hit the ground.

"AMBUSH!"

I dove behind a tree, grabbed two silver blades from my belt.

Rogues emerged. Not ordinary ones.

Tattooed symbols glowed on their necks.

"Marked," Lydia snarled. "These are his."

"Whose?"

"Dante. Lydia’s brother. The last Marked One."

My breath caught. "I thought he was dead."

"He wishes he were. He wants your bloodline. Your children. He wants everything."

"Let him try."

I lunged.

Blades met flesh. Magic met fury.

I cut through three before they even turned.

Lydia sent a pulse of black fire across the battlefield, torching their flank. The air smelled of burning flesh and fury.

A voice echoed above the chaos.

"You thought killing Tristan was the end of it. But I am the curse in your veins, Luna. The price of the blood you carry."

I turned slowly.

A man stepped into view.

Tall. Hair like night. Eyes like black fire. And on his chest—a mark.

The same mark Luis had in his nightmares.

"Dante," Lydia growled.

"Hello, sister. Still playing witch in the woods?"

"You touch my nephew, and I’ll rip your soul out through your spine."

He laughed.

But I didn’t.

"Where is my son?"

"Safe. For now. But the blood of the Moonline needs to be cleansed. And that starts with you."

I threw a dagger. He caught it mid-air.

"Cute. You’ll have to do better."

"I plan to."

I closed my eyes.

And called on the storm.

The magic I unleashed at the rogue outpost had only been a flicker. This was the inferno.

Lightning cracked through the sky. The trees shivered. Wolves howled from miles away.

Dante didn’t laugh this time.

He shielded himself as I charged, power spiraling from my core like a storm unchained.

The bond was gone.

But my fury was not.

By dawn, the rogues were dead. Dante vanished.

And I had one direction left to go.

"Find the ruins east of the Ridge," Lydia said. "That’s where they’d take him. Dante always loved hiding in tombs."

I nodded. My knuckles bled. My soul screamed.

But I was still standing.

I glanced at the moon, now dull and faded in the sky.

"You took my bond. You took my son. Now I take everything back."

The wind stirred.

And from somewhere deep in the ruins ahead, a child’s voice whispered:

"Momma..."