The third time, a cold message pushed through the weakened thread between us.
Alaric: Stop trying to reach me. Speak to the pack elders if you have something to say. When you've accepted reality, meet me at the Elder Stone for the Bond Rejection.
I stared at those cold words until my eyes burned dry. Not a single tear fell.
I sent back: Fine. Next moon. Elder Stone. I'll be there.
This time, he replied instantly—his voice echoing through what remained of our connection.
I let his words wash over me. His tone was mocking, impatient.
"Selene, you'd better not be stalling. If you fail to appear, I have ways to make you regret it."
I didn't respond. I just closed off the bond completely.
The days that followed passed in a blur. I drifted through the empty den like a ghost.
The funeral rites were simple—just a few bundles of moonlilies, Lily's favorite flower.
I knelt before her wrapped form, burning sacred herbs through the endless nights.
Alaric never came.
Not a single message asking what happened. Not one attempt to reach through our dying bond.
Nothing.
On the day of the burial, the sharp click of claws on stone echoed from outside the mourning den.
Crisp. Grating.
I looked up.