Chapter 3
Linnea's POV
"Oh my God... Linnea?" an exaggerated gasp echoed from the top of the stairs.
Melisande supported her lower back, sticking out her nine-month belly as she slowly walked down the steps. "It’s all my fault... If I weren't carrying Ashmere's only healthy bloodline, your marriage wouldn't have ended up like this. Corvin, let me leave. I don't want to make Linnea angry..."
She wiped away fake tears, but out of the corner of her eye, she spotted the two documents on the table. She unhesitatingly picked up the death certificate, a dark gleam of triumph in her eyes, before covering her mouth and gasping—
"Jesus! Linnea, how could you forge something so malicious?!" She used an innocent, heartbroken tone to fuel the fire. "Everyone knows Emrys just had a normal fever for the past month—how could he pass away? Even if you want to steal Corvin back from me, you shouldn't use death to curse your own already frail son!"
"Don't you dare say my son's name!" That shameless provocation snapped my last thread of sanity.
I marched forward, raised my hand—
And delivered a sharp, crushing slap right across her pathetic face.
"Ah!" Melisande screamed, falling back into the expensive sofa.
"Stop acting innocent!" I loomed over her, a terrifying murderous intent erupting in my eyes, ruthlessly exposing her true colors. "You shameless home-wrecker! If you hadn't hoarded Emrys' only life-saving medicine, how could he have died?!"
"Linnea! Are you crazy?!" Corvin's eyes widened in fury, and he forcefully shoved me away.
He threw himself at the sofa, holding his mistress like a precious treasure, his eyes full of panic. "Melisande, breathe. Are you okay? Does your stomach hurt?"
Seeing him desperately protect this other mother and child, the coldness in my heart froze over completely. I took a confident step forward, raised my hand, and swung—
An even harder slap landed squarely on Corvin's arrogant face.
"That slap is for killing your flesh and blood for a bastard! You don't deserve to be a father!" I snarled.
Corvin touched the blood seeping from the corner of his lips. His shock instantly turned into blinding rage. "You are hopeless! Even now you're lying using that fake certificate! Making sick jokes about your own son's life will only ruin him!"
Faced with a murderer who refused to believe his own son was dead and instead blamed me, I had absolutely zero words left for him.
I silently took a pen from my bag, cleanly signed my name on the divorce papers, and threw them at his chest.
"Sign it quickly!" I tucked away the death certificate, refused to look at the wretched couple for another second, and turned toward Emrys' room.
I opened the door and rigidly folded his tiny clothes, packing them away in a case entirely numb.
Years ago, when my parents sacrificed themselves for the Ashmere pack, it was Corvin who knelt in this very room, swearing to protect me and give me a perfect life. But ever since Melisande showed up with her bullshit life-debt, everything changed.
He cut off my money, when the Moonbloom herb finally hit the black market, I didn't have the cash. My Emrys was slowly drained of his life, night after agonizing night.
A violent, stabbing pain in my chest, combined with the sheer exhaustion of not eating for days, erupted at once. The world faded to black, and I collapsed heavily onto the floor, falling into total darkness.
"Ms. Vaughn? Are you awake?"
The sharp smell of antiseptic woke me. A nurse was changing my IV drip, her tone cheerful. "You collapsed from low blood sugar and severe exhaustion; you've been in a coma for two days. Today is a great day for the center! Mr. Ashmere hasn't left the delivery room once, and Ms. Melisande is about to give birth."
Two days.
Today was the day Melisande was giving birth. And it was the day of Emrys' cremation.
I said nothing. I violently ripped the IV needle out of my hand. Blood stained my skin, but without bothering to wipe it, I grabbed my coat and headed straight downstairs.
Rushing out of the elevator past the VIP delivery wing, through the half-open luxury double doors, I saw a scene that sickened me to my core—
Melisande lay weakly in bed, while Corvin sat on the edge, his eyes so tender they were melting. Holding a glass of warm water, he was carefully bringing it to her lips.
I turned around and left without a shred of hesitation.
At the funeral home, I received that small, ice-cold urn. It was so light, as if Emrys had never existed in this world at all.
"Emrys, Mommy is taking you away. We're leaving these crazy people."
I went to the airport terminal and bought a one-way ticket. I brought nothing that proved my ties to Ashmere, only wearing my black coat and holding my son.
The final boarding call echoed through the gate.
I closed my eyes and severed the mate bond with Corvin.
A tearing, agonizing pain exploded in my chest, and the metallic taste of blood rushed up my throat. From now on, Corvin Ashmere and I were nothing.
I hugged the urn tight and walked into the boarding gate without ever looking back.
