Where the Scattered Vows Lie

Amanda's POV

The moment I discovered Julian Blackwood's secret, the world before my eyes went still.

I remember, before I sank into darkness, my fingers digging so hard into the wooden edge of the bed that I nearly clawed out my last thread of clarity.

The elders of the pack said I had fainted from shock.

Julian Blackwood—my mate, the Alpha our entire pack called the "War God"—abandoned a three-day hunt and rushed back to the pack territory overnight for me.

He hadn't slept in two days. He sat by my bedside, his usually stone-cold face drained of color by fear.

When I finally opened my eyes, he was kneeling there.

"Amanda," he whispered, pressing my hand against his trembling heart, "I was so worried I could've died."

He—who had once torn apart a dire bear—was now shaking because I had fallen unconscious.

I once believed his eyes reflected only me, but now they brought me the pain that far outweighed any physical wound.

That kind of love didn't feel like something that could be faked. And yet, I couldn't stop wondering… had he ever looked at Celeste with the same gaze?

Celeste Wilder was Julian's puphood companion—the shewolf who had borne him twin pups.

If I hadn't seen the bloodline record left by the priest myself, I would never have believed it. To the world, Julian was an impeccable Alpha. But perfection only concealed decay. And his secret had been growing beside another shewolf for an entire year.

I turned away, pressing my tears into the pillow.

My trembling hand moved to my lower abdomen.

After three miscarriages and the healer's final verdict—that I would never conceive again—I had somehow become pregnant once more.

But now, all I could do was cry in silence.

Julian pulled me into his arms, his voice low like distant thunder.

"What's wrong, my love? Who upset you? Tell me—I'll tear them apart."

Then I caught the scent on him—foreign, unfamiliar—mixed with the sweet, milky smell that clung to infants.

My stomach churned violently. I shoved him away and stumbled outside, collapsing onto my knees in the snow as I retched.

He followed, panic in his movements, patting my back and wiping the corner of my mouth with a handkerchief.

He hated mess. He hated weakness and illness.

And yet, now he knelt in the frozen mud, murmuring softly, "It's alright. I'm here."

It nearly broke me completely—because in that moment, he was still the Julian I had loved. The werewolf who once faced a silver wolf alone for me. The werewolf I believed I could not live without.

I almost forgave him. I almost convinced myself that if he left Celeste, we could return to the way things were—pretend those twins never existed, pretend the world hadn't collapsed.

I opened my mouth, ready to tell him, "Julian, I—"

But someone sent him a message through mind link just then. He kissed my forehead and said there was an urgent matter at the border before turning into the snowstorm.

Thirty minutes later, a message came from Celeste.

She had sent me a photo of Julian holding their two pups, his lips pressed gently to their foreheads.

His expression wasn't guilt. It was peace.

That image destroyed the last fragment of hope I had left.

I did not return to the territory. I went straight to the old witch doctor's stone hut.

Kaelen—the son of the exiled witch doctor who had been cast out for loving a human woman—was the only person I could still trust.

"Help me," I said, my voice hoarse. "I need you to create a potion. After drinking it, it will erase all signs of life."

Kaelen stared at me in shock, but I did not blink.

Because I understood Julian. He would never let go of his other family.

If I wanted to protect my pup, I had to "die".

That night, I began packing. I opened the wooden cabinet and took out every battle robe I had ever mended for him. I cut them into pieces and threw them into the fireplace.

Then, I distributed all the northern gemstones he had given me to the servants.

And the sixteen leather-bound sketchbooks we had made together over the years, each page filled with our smiles—I fed them one by one into the fire.

The parchment curled, blackened, and turned to ash.

At midnight, I received a message from Kaelan. He told me it was ready.