Chapter 4

"Who told you to walk in without knocking?"

Guilt was not Callum's first reaction.

He got off the sofa fast, grabbing a shirt from the floor and wrapping it around Vivienne beneath him. Vivienne huddled in his arms, staring at me with those big doe eyes, looking as innocent as a startled fawn.

"Get out, Sera!"

He snarled at me.

I turned and left. I didn't even know why, but I reached back and pulled the door shut behind me.

When I got back to my cottage, I destroyed everything. The twelve moonstones shattered against the wall, every photo of me and Callum torn to shreds one by one, every gift he'd ever given me smashed to pieces. The dinner I'd spent hours preparing in the kitchen was swept off the table onto the floor.

The sound of shattering dishes echoed through the cottage for a long time.

Callum came back in the middle of the night.

He pushed the door open, stepped over the broken glass, and sat down in front of me. No expression on his face. Like none of this had anything to do with him.

I spoke first.

"How long has this been going on?"

"You don't want to know."

"Is it really that hard to just be my mate and not cause problems?"

My hands were shaking. Right in front of him, I picked up my communicator and dialed Vivienne's number.

Callum's face changed. He snatched the communicator from my hand and smashed it on the floor.

"She doesn't know anything about us!"

I stared at the broken pieces on the ground and laughed. Not because anything was funny. It was the last reflex of a heart that had been ripped apart.

"She really doesn't know?"

Vivienne wasn't stupid. She just chose not to know.

"At least I never told her."

Callum's voice was cold to the bone. Then he stood up and looked down at me.

"Sera, I'm warning you — if you go anywhere near her, I'll sever the mate bond. Immediately."

Twelve years. Every time I stepped out of line, he'd pull out that same threat.

And every single time, I backed down.

But that night, staring at the wreckage on the floor, at the remains of that anniversary dinner in the corner, something inside me snapped.

"Then sever it."

Callum didn't move.

He looked at me the way you'd look at a child throwing a tantrum — half annoyed, half certain I'd get over it. He thought I was bluffing, just like every time before. That I'd make a fuss and then fall back in line.

He was wrong.

Once the bond severance process began, Callum laid out a list of conditions. I was to leave the Pack with nothing. No resources, no contacts, no Pack intelligence. My name would be erased from every alliance agreement I'd helped negotiate. Twelve years of history, wiped clean.

I signed the Pack Severance Pact. Didn't hesitate for a second.

At the entrance of the Pack Hall, Callum blocked my path. His jaw was clenched so tight it could've been cast from iron, teeth grinding audibly.

"Sera, you're going to regret this."

I walked into the rain with a single bag on my back. Everything I owned after twelve years in Blackridge Pack fit inside — a few changes of clothes, and a secret I never got the chance to tell him.

He was so sure I'd turn around. In five years, I barely thought about him at all.

If Morgan hadn't dragged me to this banquet, Callum and I would never have crossed paths again.

Cold rain was falling outside the banquet hall.

The moment I stepped through the door, something landed on my shoulders — a black coat, soaked in Callum's pheromones. That burnt cedarwood scent filled my nostrils. The smell that once made me feel safe now only made me sick.

"Five years." Callum stood behind me. "I never thought you'd actually never look back."

I yanked the coat off and shoved it back into his hands.

"Look back for what? To keep being your dirty little secret? Have you no shame, Callum?"

He was about to say something — then my phone rang.

I stepped away to answer it. A tiny, sweet voice came through the other end —

"Mommy! Mommy, when are you coming home? Maisie misses you!"

Callum was standing three steps away. He heard every word.

I watched him freeze. First rigid, then the corner of his mouth slowly curling upward — that smug arc he only wore when he believed he had everything figured out.

I hung up, turned around, and met those self-assured eyes of his.

He lowered his voice, dripping with certainty: "Sera. That's my child, isn't it? You still love me. Even after you left, you kept our baby."

I stared at him for a second. Then I slapped him across the face.

The crack of my palm against his left cheek rang out sharp and clear in the rain, like a branch snapping.

"That child has absolutely nothing to do with you."

"What makes you think you deserve anything, Callum?"