The Alpha's Forgotten Sin

CHAPTER THREE: The Day She Was Erased

Elara lifted her head slowly, her vision blurring. Her ears rang. Everything felt distant, unreal, like she was watching someone else’s life unravel.

She searched the crowd desperately.

Faces she knew. Faces she trusted.

Some looked away.

Some watched with morbid fascination.

Some—few—looked ashamed.

Rowan stood among them, arms crossed, his mouth set in a grim line that almost looked regretful.

He knew Elara didn't deserve this but he thought to himself that if he couldn't have had a taste of her, then she's of no use to him and he was doing the right thing by burying all that really happened the night before.

It wasn't supposed to go that way, he had planned everything so perfectly, he had waited so patiently all these years. Why did Cealum have to show up?? Why did he have to destroy his well crafted plans??. This was his payback for not getting what he believes had always been his right.

When their eyes met, his gaze flickered away first.

That was when she understood.

Not fully—but enough.

Her mother lunged again, her sobs breaking into incoherent pleas. “She’s my baby,” she cried. “Please, she’s my baby—don’t do this—”

Two guards grabbed her arms gently but firmly.

“Elara!” her mother screamed as they pulled her back. “Elara, I’m so sorry—”

“I tried,” her father whispered, his voice cracking for the first time. “I swear to you, I tried.”

Elara forced herself to stand.

Her legs trembled, but she stood anyway—because if this was how her life ended, she would not end it on her knees.

“I didn’t choose this,” she said, her voice small but steady. “I didn’t do anything wrong.”

Silence followed.

Not the kind that listens.

The kind that condemns.

“You will leave Moonridge before midday,” the elder said. “You are forbidden from returning. Should you cross our borders again, you will be killed.”

Her mother made a sound like something inside her had shattered completely. She looked at Rowan with eyes that pleaded that he help Elara out of this situation but Rowan averted his gaze. Elara's parents were speechless at his reaction. They had taken him as their own son.

Elara turned to her then, really looked at her—at the woman who had braided her hair that morning, who had kissed her forehead and told her tonight would be beautiful.

“I love you,” Elara said softly.

Her mother collapsed.

Her father caught her, pressing his forehead to hers as he held her, his shoulders shaking with silent grief.

“I’m proud of you,” he whispered fiercely to Elara. “No matter what they say. No matter where you go.”

She nodded, unable to speak.

The guards did not allow goodbyes to linger.

A hand pressed between her shoulder blades—not cruel, but firm—and guided her toward the forest. Each step away from the clearing felt like a tear ripping through her chest.

She did not look back again.

She refused to give them that.

The trees swallowed her whole.

The sounds of the pack faded slowly—voices, murmurs, the last remnants of celebration turned accusation. The air grew colder. Darker. The forest felt vast and unfamiliar, every shadow suddenly a threat.

When she reached the invisible boundary marking Moonridge territory, something inside her broke.

She felt it physically—a snap, a tearing sensation deep in her chest, as though a thread that had held her together her entire life had finally given way.

She crossed the line.

The bond snapped.

Her wolf whimpered inside her, confused and afraid.

Elara stumbled forward, then collapsed to the ground, clutching herself as sobs tore free at last—raw, ugly, unstoppable. She cried for her parents. For her home. For the girl she had been that morning.

For the life that had ended before it ever truly began.

Her memories of the pack from her childhood to last night flashed before her very eyes. Memories of her and her parents. Memories of learning the ways of the pack. Memories made with Rowan. Memories of their shared laughter, cries, secrets. Times he stood up for her. Times he gave her gifts. She could never have believed that the same Rowan would be the cause of her pains today.

The members of the pack retreated, some murmuring that it served her right, some feeling great pity for her and some others scared of sharing in the same fate as hers.

Rowan stood at a distance convincing himself that what had happened, had happened and swearing to make sure the real truth is never revealed. He grinned, satisfied with his decision as he retreats with the rest of the pack.

Behind Elara, hidden among the trees, Alpha Caelum Blackthorne stood still.

He had watched the banishment in silence, his expression unreadable. He had not interfered. Had not spoken again. Had not chased after her.

He told himself it was because it was not his pack.

Not his laws.

Not his responsibility.

He didn't care. It wasn't important to him — at the moment at least.

When she crossed the boundary and disappeared into the darkness, something twisted violently in his chest—sharp and unwelcome. His wolf stirred restlessly, unsettled in a way Caelum refused to examine.

“She’ll survive,” he muttered to himself.

He turned away.

He did not see her fall.

He did not hear her cry.

And that would become one of the many things fate would never forgive him for.