Chapter 4

The room was deathly quiet.

My calmness seemed to piss Rowan off.

She finally focused on me, really looked at me.

Then, her gaze froze on my left hand.

“Why is your wrist bare? Where’s your bond bracelet? What the hell is your problem now?!”

Three rapid-fire questions.

I watched her sudden explosion of anger with cold eyes.

It was the most emotion she’d shown me all day.

Before I could answer, a special ringtone cut through the tension.

Rowan answered the call, her voice instantly shifting from rage to extreme tenderness.

“Alpha…” Finn’s voice was a pathetic whine. “I’m a little hungry… when are you bringing the venison?”

“Right away. Be a good boy and wait for me downstairs.”

Rowan hung up, all her questions for me forgotten.

Without a second thought, she grabbed the fancy food container from the table and strode out the door.

Bang. The front door slammed shut again.

I stood there for a second, then let out a low laugh. I laughed until tears started to well in my eyes.

I turned and walked into the bedroom, pulled out the black suitcase from the closet.

I didn’t pack any of the expensive suits she’d bought me. I didn’t pack a single thing with the Silvermoon Ridge sigil on it.

Just a few simple changes of clothes and my ID.

Around noon, my phone lit up. A message from Rowan.

[I’ll be home at 8 PM sharp tonight. We need to talk.]

I glanced at it, tossed the phone on the bed, and kept packing.

7:00 PM.

I opened a premium delivery app and ordered the honey-glazed venison myself.

7:10 PM.

I zipped the suitcase shut.

A notification popped up. I tapped on Finn’s social media account.

The latest post was a picture from the passenger seat of a high-end custom SUV.

At the edge of the frame, you could just see the driver’s hand on the steering wheel.

On that hand, clear as day, was the Alpha Female's signet ring, the symbol of ultimate power in Silvermoon Ridge.

The caption: [The Alpha Female's passenger seat is always the safest harbor for an Omega.]

I stared at the picture. I felt nothing.

7:40 PM.

I picked up my phone and sent Rowan a message: [Where are you?]

Two minutes later, she replied: [Finn twisted his ankle getting out of the car. He’s crying, it hurts so bad. I have to carry him upstairs. Going to be a little late.]

7:50 PM.

Marcus texted me: [The Alpha-class jet is fueled. Waiting on your command.]

I switched back to my chat with Rowan, my face blank. [Can you be back by eight?]

Her reply was sharp with frustration: [Give me ten more minutes! Caleb, can you stop being so selfish for once? He’s hurt!]

8:00 PM.

Ding-dong. The doorbell rang on time.

I opened the door. A courier handed me a paper bag. “Sir, your roasted venison.”

8:10 PM.

I turned off all the lights in the living room, except for the massive projection wall.

An image flickered to life. It was the recording of our bonding ceremony.

A younger Rowan, dressed in a pristine white tunic, her eyes full of stars.

She was gripping my hand, swearing her oath to the entire pack. “Caleb, without you suppressing your own nature to pave my way, there would be no Rowan. You are my one and only, forever.”

I sat on the sofa in the dark, opened the insulated container, and tore off a piece of venison.

The meat, which should have been rich and juicy, tasted like ash in my mouth.

A single hot tear hit the back of my hand. Then another, and another.

I didn’t wipe them away. I just kept mechanically forcing the meat down.

The tears mixed with the juices, making every bite saltier than the last.

It was a bitter saltiness, like swallowing shards of glass.

But I finished it all. Every last bite.

As the recording of Rowan’s voice echoed the words “one and only, forever,” I threw the empty container perfectly into the trash can.

I stood up, pulled a tissue from the box, and roughly wiped the tears from my face.

The bond, that tether that had been strangling my soul, finally snapped with that last, salty tear.

9:00 PM.

The wind howled across the private airfield.

The engines of the heavy stealth transport jet whined with a low hum. The bodyguards Marcus sent stood respectfully by the boarding ramp, waiting for me.

My phone vibrated one last time.

Rowan’s message, arriving far too late.

[Finn just realized it's his four-month work anniversary. He's crying. I can't leave him. Not coming home tonight.]

Another message followed immediately after:

[I’ll have someone send you that token tomorrow. Stop throwing a fit.]

The wind whipped the hem of my coat.

I stood on the boarding stairs, looking down at the two lines of text on my screen.

Years of being worn down, of waiting. All the hurt and injustice. It all dissolved in the face of such a pathetic, ridiculous excuse.

A laugh of pure relief escaped my lips.

My fingers flew across the screen as I typed my final farewell.

[Don’t bother, Rowan. I’m gone. My flight is tonight. From now on, you have your throne. I’ll get mine.]