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.

When Joanne leaped from the Moonlit Crag, she must have finally renounced the Snowclaw Pack and Shawn.

I scattered her ashes over the Tidalwrath Sea, it was the final destination in our escape plan.

She had no family, no home to return to.

When planning our escape, she'd said, "After mountains and rivers, I want to see the sea."

I scattered some ashes into the waves.

A gust of wind swept them toward the horizon.

Tears welled up, "Joanne, is that you?"

The wind rushed back as if answering me.

I smiled through tears.

"When this ends, "I whispered to the circling sea winds, "I'll walk our road for both of us."

As the winds stilled, I knew Joanne was gone from this world.

Noon sun blazed as I entered the den 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?"