Chapter 11

Back in his top-floor office, Derek's brow was furrowed tight. His assistant treaded carefully. "Derek, the binding ceremony's tomorrow. Still going through with it?"

Outsiders saw Derek and Brittany as unbreakable, but the assistant knew Derek's feelings for Hannah ran deeper. Derek paused, then said, "Keep it on. Any word on Hannah?"

He refused to believe Hannah, a she-wolf who always found a way to survive, was gone—unless she'd chosen death. Suddenly, he recalled their last encounter. She was half-buried in that pit, her face gray with despair, her eyes empty of their usual fire. Was she truly broken?

His heart skipped, a sickening lurch. That night, he sped to the cemetery, ignoring the caretaker's protests. He ordered every inch of ground around Eleanor's grave dug up, desperate for any trace of Hannah.

Two hours later, nothing. Except a bracelet near Eleanor's grave—the one he'd gotten for Hannah at sixteen, trekking across the great pack to a temple, praying for her safety and joy. Now, she was gone, dead or alive unknown.

His fragile defenses crumbled. Memories of Hannah built a palace in his mind, and she was its queen. Without her, they felt like illusions. He needed to face it: he couldn't live without her. He loved her.

Panic surged until Brittany's giddy voice broke through on the phone. "Derek, tomorrow's our binding ceremony! Nervous?"

His eyes were ice, but his voice was warm. "I'm looking forward to it."

Brittany, elated, chattered about the ceremony. The next day, the venue was packed. Derek stood at the end of a flower-lined aisle, waiting for Brittany as planned. His buddies' jeers filled the air, grating on him.

"Derek's the wolf! Chased his dream she-wolf for years and finally got her!"

"Kane's daughter or a homewrecker's pup? Easy choice!"

"Where's that lapdog Hannah? She's always trailing Derek."

Their crude taunts, plotting to torment Hannah, pushed him over. When "lapdog" hit his ears again, Derek snapped, storming off the stage. He grabbed the loudest wolf by the collar, pummeling him, fists relentless.

Screams erupted as blood stained the ceremony. His friends pulled him back. "Derek, you'll kill him! Stop!"

Eyes wild, Derek's mind flashed with every insult Hannah endured, his chest tight with pain. "Get lost! Next one to trash-talk Hannah gets run out of Belmor Town!"

A slap echoed. Brittany, rushing in, froze, eyes wide with disbelief. "Derek… you're fighting for Hannah?"

She'd been waiting outside, dreaming of becoming Belmor Town's happiest she-wolf. Instead, her mate trashed their ceremony for his old flame. Derek turned, blood on his lip, looking broken yet defiant. Meeting Brittany's tearful gaze, he felt a rush of satisfaction and raised his voice.

"Everyone, the ceremony's off! I'll invite you back when I find my true mate!"

Under shocked stares, Derek strode out. Brittany's desperate cries—"Derek!"—didn't slow him. She collapsed, muttering, "How… how did this happen?"

Everything was perfect. Why did he bolt, chasing some "true mate"? The cheerful piano stopped, the screen showing their ceremony photos went black. Then, a chilling wail filled the air.

The screen flickered to life, displaying videos of Brittany being bullied abroad during her studies.