Vanc

t hint of dawn was barely streaking the sky when the door creaked open. It wasn't

devoid of warmth. "The Alpha

e Great Hall? At sunrise? I knew what that meant. According to the ancient laws of the Blackwo

equest. As we walked through the silent corridors of the Packhouse, I saw pack members gathering. They streamed into the Great Hall, thei

present, their collective scents a heavy, oppressive weight in t

powerful, commanding leader he was. His stormy grey eyes swept over the crowd and then landed on me. There was nothing in them. No anger, no

actured, felt like i

nce, step

rying me down the central aisle, each step an eternity of shame. The whispers of the crowd followed me like a physical force. I stopped at the f

of the rite, his voice a cold, steady drone.

ckwood Pack..." He raised his right ha

hattering howl of pure agony. It was the sound

t you, Elara Vance,

ng in the a

sical description, a feeling of my very essence being ripped apart. A choked sob to

ken without wounding him, too. But with the formidable willpower of a true Alpha, he mastered it, his expression hardening once more. I could feel the ghost of Fenr

he ritual was not comp

. "Accept it, Omega," he murmured, his voice low an

irage. His cold eyes met mine, and in that moment, something inside me finally broke. The

me of my true heritage, of the lost Mooncrest Pack, of my duty as the last Matron Luna. I was not just an Omeg

numbing the pain. I had to live. Not fo

nd met Kaelen's gaze. My voice, when it came, was quiet, but it carried through the silent hall w

ara Va

h, the air bur

t your re

. The agonizing tear was complete. A profound, echoing emptiness

, of an unexpected void. He pushed it away. The ceremony was over. He had won. He had severed the bond

ce, a final, dismissive gesture. He addressed

Strip her of all