By the time I reached the packhouse, the moon had risen, casting cold silver light across the territory. I stood outside the front steps for a long while, staring at the home that was supposed to be sacred—the Alpha residence where I was meant to feel protected. But ever since Sabrina returned to our pack lands, Lucian’s scent had rarely lingered here. The warmth of this place had vanished, replaced by something hollow and foreign.
Inside, I walked straight to the wall of framed memories, reached for our wedding photo—a symbol of the mate bond I had once treasured—and pulled it down. Without hesitation, I tossed it into the trash bin.
I refused to leave behind a single reminder of the life I had been desperately trying to hold together.
Next, I gathered every shared item—our matching cloaks, trinkets from bonding ceremonies, little tokens wolves give their mates—and stuffed them into a black trash bag. I was carefully making my way down the stairs when the front door burst open.
Lucian walked in, carrying Sabrina in his arms like she already belonged here.
The moment his gaze met mine, a flicker of guilt rippled across his face, quickly masked by irritation.