Two She-Wolves, One Choice: Sever the Bond

His mockery tore through my eardrums like claws.

My wolf howled low and long, her sorrow echoing through my bones.

I felt her pain like it was my own — the moment she sensed Joanne’s death, something inside her shattered.

Staring at Joanne's cooling in the blood-soaked earth, I rasped, "Shawn. This isn't a joke. Joanne... has gone."

“Hmph.” A cold laugh echoed through the phone.

"Hah," his mental scoff vibrated in my skull. "Dead? Shall I order a moon funeral and howl until the Blood Moon rises?"

“Jose, tell her not to waste her time. I won’t believe a word she says — and no, I’m not letting her back into the mindlink. Not because of some pathetic little trick like that!”

“Although you've mated to my brother, you are nothing to me. These games between you and Joanne wouldn't fool a pup.”

The midsummer wind cut like silver blades.

I should've known.

To Shawn, Joanne was just a tool to appease the Elders.

Even as death closed in, she still held on — foolishly, desperately — to the hope that her mate would come back.

Her final breath wasn’t for herself, but for the one who had long since turned away.

Unfortunately, he disappointed Joanne again.

A she-wolf's voice sounded from the phone.

Shawn, A honeyed voice pierced the call, "Who disturbs our Moon Chant?"

Shawn's tone dripped sudden sweetness, "Patience, little moon. Almost done."

When he cut the line, complete darkness swallowed the last sliver of moonlight.

I knelt beside the spreading crimson, Joanne's body losing warmth under my palms.

Last night, she'd squeezed my hand and hazelly eyes alight: "We run through the Shadow Forest at dawn!"

She was afraid of heights and pain, but why did she choose the sacred Moonlit Crag for her end?

Numbly, I followed the warriors through pack funeral rites.

What rested in my palms wasn't the flesh and blood, but a moonstone urn holding ashes.

When dawn clawed through the night, I left the rites with Joanne in my hand sadly.

I didn’t even realize I’d stopped walking until a passing warrior gently caught my arm.

“Luna Jose, are you okay?”

His voice felt distant, like echoing through water. I stood frozen, my brain wrapped in fog.

Then suddenly, Edwin’s mindlink tore through the haze, snapping me back to reality — painfully, violently.

“You didn't return to the den last night.”

His rumble scraped my raw throat.

His voice turned colder, "What's wrong with you? Don't go fooling around with Joanne again."

"Jose, I warned you before, stay away from Joanne!"

His mental presence pressed like ice daggers.

I took a shaky breath, "Joanne walks with the Moon Goddess now, Edwin. Your scorn is wasted."

He fell silent for seconds then derision crackled through the link: "You join her death charade? If she 'died' today, how will you 'die' tomorrow? Spare us the theatrics."

After that, he cut the mindlink ruthlessly.

And the severing whipcrack of the mindink brought perverse relief.

If he refused to believe, so be it.

My wolf felt weak and faint after I had been overwhelmed by Joanne’s death.

Dizziness clouded my vision, and the world spun until I collapsed, everything around me blurring into shadows.

“Alpha! Luna has collapsed!”

I heard the servant’s voice as my consciousness flickered back, though I couldn’t open my eyes.

Then, I heard Edwin’s cold, mocking voice on the other end of the line.

“Do you really think I’d believe that? She probably told you to say it just to guilt-trip me. She’s clearly just throwing a tantrum because I told her to stay away from that friend of hers. Stop wasting my time with pathetic excuses.”

And then… the line went dead.

Only silence remained.

A bitter smile tugged at my lips.

So this was the mate I had bonded with for years. Cold. Distrustful. Dismissive.

“I’ll call him myself,” I murmured, my voice barely a whisper, and asked the servant to hand me my phone.

It took several tries before he finally answered.

His voice was sharp and impatient.

“What the hell do you want now? Couldn’t even stick to your script and decided to lie to me directly since I didn’t believe the servant?”

“Edwin… I…” I tried to speak, but my voice was too weak.

He didn’t even notice.

He kept talking, his scoff cutting deep.

“Carmen twisted her ankle. I’m taking her to the infirmary. And you’re seriously calling me about your little drama again? Pathetic. Don’t try these childish tricks just to get my attention.”

Then he hung up.

How ironic. Shawn refused to believe Joanne was dead.

And now Edwin refused to believe I had collapsed.

He would rather stay by his precious sweetheart’s side than listen to a single word I said.

Even if Joanne hadn’t died, I would still have severed my bond with him.

Because this wasn’t love.

This wasn’t a mate.

This was betrayal.

The noon sun blazed overhead as I got out of bed and walked into the hall.

Shawn and Edwin were there.

Two predatory gazes pinned me.

Shawn leaned against a carved pillar, blue wolf-eyes mocking, "Jose, welcome back? I guess Joanne must be still messing around, right?"