Dante's POV
"Stop. Come back."
The Alpha order rolls out of me like thunder, laced with power that's made grown wolves drop to their knees. It's the voice that stopped a border war with three words. The voice that brought rogues crawling back to beg forgiveness.
Isla keeps going.
She doesn't even fall. Doesn't slow down. Just keeps moving through the trees with Lyra's hand in hers, like I'm nothing more than wind.
That's impossible.
"Isla!" I bark it louder, pushing more authority into my voice. Every wolf in a mile radius will feel that order in their bones. "I said STOP!"
She vanishes into the darkness.
My wolf slams against my chest, screaming. Not in anger—in fear. The sound is wrong, desperate, like he's dying. I've never heard him make that sound before.
"Well." Serena's purr cuts through my confusion. "That was dramatic."
I round on her, suddenly angry. "What did you do?"
"Me?" She blinks innocently, but there's victory in her eyes. "I'm not the one who just lost control of my mate, Dante. That's all you."
Kieran is crying in her arms. My son—the boy I've been raising to be strong—is crying like a baby. "I want the singing lady," he whimpers. "She was nice to me."
"Shh, baby." Serena rocks him. "Mommy's here."
Something about those words makes my stomach turn. Kieran is five years old. He's called Serena "Mommy" for months now, ever since... since when? I try to remember when that started, but my thoughts are fuzzy, like trying to see through smoke.
"Take Kieran back to the pack house," I tell her. "We'll talk later."
"But Dante—"
"Now, Serena."
She pouts but obeys. The moment they're gone, I shift. My wolf takes over, and we run.
We have to find Isla. Have to fix this. She's overreacting, being upset about something we can work through like adults. She's my mate. She can't just leave.
Except when I reach the pack house, her smell is already fading. I burst into our bedroom—her clothes are gone. Lyra's room is empty. The silver toothbrush she used every night, the one that smelled like lavender—gone.
In the seven years we've been mated, Isla has never done anything surprising. She's been steady, predictable, safe. She plans pack events, raises our cubs, keeps the house running smoothly. She doesn't make scenes. She doesn't run.
This isn't like her.
My wolf whimpers again, that dying sound that makes my bones ache.
Marcus finds me standing in the empty room, probably looking crazy. "Alpha? The patrol said they saw Luna Isla leaving the territory. Should we—"
"No." I'm breathing too hard. "She'll come back. She's just upset."
"Dante." Marcus's voice is careful. "What happened?"
"She saw me with Serena. Misunderstood the situation." The words taste wrong in my mouth. "I gave her a direct command and she just... walked away. My command didn't work on her."
Marcus goes very still. "That's not possible. You're her Alpha and her mate. Unless..."
"Unless what?"
"Unless she's from a bloodline stronger than yours." He's looking at me like I'm stupid. "Did you ever actually ask about her family? Where she came from?"
I didn't. In seven years of marriage, I never asked. She was packless when we met, alone at a neutral territory meeting. Beautiful and quiet and clearly beneath my station, but the mate bond had snapped into place. So I married her, gave her my name, got her pregnant twice.
That was enough. That was all she needed.
Wasn't it?
"She'll be back by morning," I say firmly. "She has nowhere else to go."
But morning comes and Isla doesn't.
Neither does Lyra.
The pack house feels wrong without them. Too quiet. The kitchen where Isla used to make breakfast before anyone woke up is dark and cold. Lyra's toys are scattered in the living room, waiting for a little girl who isn't coming home.
Serena moves into the Luna's office that afternoon.
"We should make this official," she says, running her fingers over Isla's desk. "I'll take over her duties. The pack needs a Luna, and clearly she's abandoned her post."
"She didn't abandon anything. She's coming back."
"Is she?" Serena's smile is sharp. "Dante, be realistic. She was never right for this position. Too soft, too common, too... breakable. The pack deserves better. You deserve better."
My wolf snarls at her. The sound surprises us both.
"Get out of this office," I hear myself say. "That's Isla's desk."
"For now," Serena says sweetly. But she leaves.
Three days pass. Then a week. My wolf gets worse—he's constantly howling inside my head, trying to get out, to hunt, to find our mate. I can't sleep. Can't eat. My hands shake during pack meetings.
"You need to feed," Marcus says frankly. "You look like death."
"I'm fine."
"You're dying." He throws a box on my desk. "And before you collapse, you should know—I found out who Isla really is."
I grab the folder. Inside are documents, genealogy records, financial statements with numbers that make my eyes blur.
"Isla Morven," Marcus says quietly. "Heir to the Morven Pack. One of the three original bloodlines. Her grandmother is Elder Moira Morven—you know, the wolf who makes the Council wet themselves in fear? Isla's not some random packless she-wolf, Dante. She's basically royalty. She was hiding."
The papers slip from my hands.
"Why would she hide that?" My voice sounds hollow.
"Maybe she wanted to be loved for herself, not her bloodline." Marcus's disgust is clear. "Or maybe she was testing you. Guess you failed."
Before I can reply, my phone rings. Unknown number.
"Mr. Blackthorn?" A smooth, female voice. Old and strong. "This is Elder Moira Morven. I believe you've been looking for my granddaughter."
My heart stops. "Where is she?"
"Somewhere you'll never find her unless I allow it." The voice turns to ice. "But I'm calling as a courtesy. The mate bond rejection Isla initiated? She's making it permanent. The ceremony is tonight at midnight. After that, you'll never be connected to her again. Your bond will die, and so will your wolf. I thought you should know."
The line goes dead.
I stare at the phone as the world tilts sideways. Permanent rejection. A ceremony that will sever our bond totally, kill the connection the Moon Goddess herself created.
If Isla does this, I'm dead. My wolf is already dying—a full bond break will destroy us both.
And somewhere in my chest, beneath the fear and the pain, a tiny voice whispers: You deserve this.
Marcus is already moving. "I'll get the car. If we leave now—"
"Where?" I'm screaming. "Where is she? How do we find her in time?"
He pulls out his phone, shows me a text from a number I don't recognize: Silver Moon City. The Morven Estate. You have four hours.
"Who sent that?"
"Does it matter?" Marcus grabs his keys. "Move, Alpha. Your mate is about to erase you from existence."
I run.