Chapter 2

Word spread through the pack fast.

Everyone assumed I was bluffing — that breaking off the engagement was just a play to pressure Cael into giving in.

I had loved Cael Ashworth for seven years. The whole pack knew it.

But I didn't make a scene. Didn't ask for anything.

I just lay in the hospital, quiet, waiting for my wounds to close.

On the third day, my doctor walked in with a report in his hand. He looked grim.

"Miss Voss..." He trailed off.

"Say it. I can handle it."

He let out a breath and handed me the file. "Seven failed bonding ceremonies, on top of the damage from the stray attacks — your wolf has taken irreversible damage. The backlash has gone too far."

"Your bond has severed."

I looked at the words stamped in red across the bottom of the page. My fingers trembled once, then went still.

Bond severance.

For a wolf, that was a death sentence.

"How long do I have?" I asked.

"Three months. At most." He couldn't hold my gaze. "Unless..."

"Unless what?"

"There's a Moonveil stored in the Ashworth vault. It can restore a severed bond." He paused. "It's your only chance."

Moonveil.

The Ashworth Pack's most sacred relic. It bloomed once every hundred years.

I closed my eyes and drew in a long breath.

I wanted to live.

My parents died saving Cael's — killed in a border ambush, both of them. This life was what they'd paid for with theirs. I couldn't just let it end here.

I pulled the IV from the back of my hand, swung my casted leg off the bed, and dragged myself out of the hospital one step at a time.

A couple of pack members passed me on the walkway outside. Their eyes went to my bandages, then quickly away. One whispered something to the other. Neither stopped.

Cael's villa was lit up bright when I got there.

I made it to the front hall and stopped cold.

The air smelled wrong — herbal, alive. I knew that scent.

Moonveil.

Cael was on the sofa, cradling Dove's hand in both of his.

Her finger had a scratch on it. A rose thorn, maybe. So shallow it hadn't even drawn blood.

And Cael was grinding the Moonveil down in a mortar, crushing it without a second thought.

Green juice seeped out, sharp and bright.

He dabbed the liquid onto Dove's scratch, one careful drop at a time. A cut that didn't even need a band-aid.

"Still hurt?" His voice was so gentle it barely sounded like him.

"Not anymore, Cael. This stuff is amazing." Dove curled into his chest, her voice small and sweet.

I stood in the doorway. My stomach turned.

The only thing that could save my life, and he'd wasted it on a scratch.

I dragged my bad leg forward and walked into the room.

Cael looked up at the sound. The gentleness left his face the instant he saw me. What replaced it was open disgust.

"What are you doing here?" He stared at me, flat and cold. "Didn't you break off the engagement? What, you changed your mind? Back to play games?"

I didn't answer. My eyes were locked on the crushed remains of the Moonveil on the table.

"I need the Moonveil." My voice came out rough.

He blinked. Then a short, hard laugh.

"Have you lost your mind?" He looked at me like I'd come unhinged. "The Moonveil is the pack's sacred relic. Who do you think you are, just demanding it?"

"I'm sick." I met his eyes, kept my voice level. "Bond severance. Without the Moonveil, I won't last three months."

My hand started toward my jacket pocket. The report was right there — folded, stamped, undeniable.

At the words "bond severance," Cael's brow creased for half a second.

Then Dove tugged his sleeve.

"Wren, how could you make something like that up just to trick Cael?" She looked at me with wide, wounded eyes. "Bond severance is terminal. There's no way you actually have it. You're just jealous he used the Moonveil on me, right?"

The crease on Cael's brow smoothed out. His eyes went cold.

"You get more pathetic by the day, Wren." He stood up and walked toward me, towering over where I stood. "Making up bond severance just to compete for my attention? That's low, even for you."

My hand dropped back to my side.

"I'm not lying." I held his stare.

"Enough." He cut me off. "You think acting pitiful will make me feel sorry for you? Let me make this clear — that Moonveil could rot in the ground and I still wouldn't let you touch it."

He pointed at the door. "Get out."

I looked down at the table. The Moonveil was green pulp now, already drying, the life bleeding out of it.

My last chance. Gone.

The words rose to the back of my throat, and I swallowed them down.

"Fine." I gave a small nod and turned for the door.

Cael's voice followed me out.

"Figure out the money and the cure yourself, Wren. Once you're dead, your parents' debt is settled. We're square."