An Unwanted Mark by the Alpha
“This isn’t fate.”
“I know,” he replied. “It’s choice.”
The witch drew a blade across my palm, quick and precise. Blood welled, dark and bright against my skin, dripping into the carved sigils beneath me. The symbols flared.
“Speak your consent,” the witch said.
“I choose severance,” I said clearly. “I choose release.”
The bond reacted, tightening, resisting, then loosening with a sound I felt rather than heard. Pain flashed briefly, sharp and clean.
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