He did it again
1657 Words
He'd torn the tether between us once more, and this time… he yanked it mercilessly.
The Moon Goddess, in all her divine wisdom—or cruelty—had given us a gift. A soul-deep bond. A perfect reflection of the self, destined to complete us. A mate. A chance at love that was eternal. But she didn’t promise it would be kind. Or fair. Or even returned.
Because not all soulmates were meant to be.
And some were cursed to be rejected.
Rejection wasn’t just a broken heart—it was a death sentence whispered sweetly by fate. It severed not only the physical bond but tore apart the very soul. Left behind a wound that never truly healed.
Most wolves couldn’t bear it.
And those who tried to resist it—who refused to accept that final, damning word—invited a torment more vicious than death.
I felt it now.
Every breath was a punishment.
He couldn’t feel what I felt. That was the cruel irony. Once the bond was rejected, the one who walked away felt nothing. No echo. No ache. No tether.
But I—I felt everything.
I collapsed fully onto the grass, curling in on myself as if I could protect my heart with limbs alone. But there was no shield strong enough for this kind of suffering.
I had always questioned my worth.
Was I not enough?
Never once had I asked for someone to fight my battles. I wasn't some fragile, trembling damsel waiting for a knight in shining armor. I was strong. I was capable. I knew how to hold my own, even when the world turned its back on me.
Even when he did.
But tonight… none of my strength could stopped the ache clawing its way up my ribs.
I fell to my knees, gravel biting into my skin, but I barely felt it.
The pain was too much.
"Argh!"
A strangled cry tore from my throat as my legs shook beneath me.
I didn’t know how I was still upright.
But I didn’t shed tears.
Not anymore. Instead, I clutched my chest, gasping as the fire in my veins grew unbearable.
And then I heard her.
The voice I hadn’t heard in what felt like lifetimes.
"How much longer must we endure this torment?"
Her voice—Lyara—my inner wolf—rang through my head with anguish so thick it almost brought me to the ground.
It was the first time she had spoken to me since he—Kaelon rejected us.
Since that moment, she had gone silent, retreating into a pain I could never touch, never soothe.
And yet here she was, whispering, weeping, breaking.
"Aren’t you tired yet?" Lyara asked again.
"Do you want to always be like this?"
I let out a weak, bitter laugh. "I don’t know..." I whispered, hugging myself tightly, like I could hold all the shattered parts of me together.
But they were slipping through my fingers.
"That’s enough," Lyara said.
"Let him go. I know you’ve loved him for so long… But he chose power. Not you. He wanted status. Not your soul. Why can’t you just accept the rejection? Why not wait… for a second chance?"
I swallowed the sob that nearly escaped and stared blankly into the night sky.
Second chance?
“To what?” I whispered aloud, voice cracked and tired.
“To love?”
Silence followed. But I could feel Lyara listening, grieving with me.
"Isn’t it better to hope," she finally said, "than to be stuck in this anguish?"
I bit my lip, lost in the storm of my thoughts.
The stillness was louder than any scream.
"Am I being selfish?" I asked her.
"I know I’m hurting you with me. I drag you down every single day. Are you… tired?"
There was a long pause.
And then, her answer came. So soft.
A barely-there whisper carried on the wind.
"Yes."
And that… that single word… shattered me more than Kaelon ever could.
My heart clenched in ways I didn't know it could.
Because I knew, without needing to ask again.
Lyara—my brave, wild, beautiful wolf—was tired.
She was exhausted.
From the pain. From carrying the weight of a love that was never ours to hold. I knew without asking that Lyra was exhausted , and I didn't want her to suffer because of me.
My breathing came in ragged. It had been like that for a while now—choppy, shallow, and stubborn, like my lungs were too full of ache to let air pass freely.
I didn’t move.
I just sat there, my arms limp at my sides, my knees tucked under me like a broken doll forgotten in the dark.
Tears slid quietly down my cheeks, hot at first… then cold as the night claimed them, soaking the earth beneath me.
And when I lifted my eyes to the sky, the moon greeted me. So bright and silent.
A silent witness to the wreckage I had become.
A sob clawed up my throat. “Moon Goddess,” I whispered, then louder, more desperate, “why did you bring him into my life if he wasn’t meant to stay?”
My voice cracked, fragile and raw.
The night answered only with its quiet hum—the buzz of insects, the gentle calls of nocturnal birds, the rustle of leaves in a lazy breeze. Even the world around me seemed to mourn. Like it, too, had no answers.
I felt…
Lost.
Confused.
Drenched in questions that had no mercy and even fewer answers.
Why did fate have to be so cruel?
I was a warrior. A true one.
I’d devoted my life to protecting the Alpha King.
Led battalions into battle, faced down nightmares most wolves would never speak of aloud.
No one ever dared to challenge me twice.
My sword was swift. My loyalty, unshakable.
But somehow—somehow—love had undone me.
Not with claws.
Not with poison.
But with a soft smile, a fleeting glance, and the promise of something more.
Now here I was—Seraphina. The battle-hardened. The undefeated—reduced to a woman sobbing into the moonlight because of a man who never truly chose her.
And that—that—was the most brutal war I’d ever lost.
"Everything happens for a reason," Lyra murmured gently inside my mind, her voice like a soft hand brushing my cheek. "You just have to look ahead to the future... and not back to the past."
I let out a shaky laugh, not from humor but gratitude.
Lyra.
She had never left me.
Not when I locked myself in the training hall to cry.
Not when I pretended to be fine in front of the others.
Not even when he—Draven—walked away without a glance back.
Draven of the Shadowmoor Pack.
Heir to the throne. Alpha-to-be. The pride of his bloodline and the one I had loved long before the mating call ever stirred in my chest.
I had harbored feelings for him since we were both young—before the titles, before the duties, before the prophecy and the pressure.
But he never saw me.
Not really.
Because when the call came…
When the Moon Goddess whispered destiny into our veins…
He turned to someone else.
Her.
Selene of the Duskvale Pack.
Beautiful. Refined. Perfect on paper.
She was the kind of mate that came with alliances, riches, and power.
And Draven chose her.
They both walked away together, hand in hand, while I stood there—watching the man I had bled for… choose someone else.
Left behind in my quiet, unrequited love.
I drew in a long, slow breath.
The kind that trembled halfway down and threatened to collapse entirely.
My eyes squeezed shut, lashes clinging to unshed tears. I could feel my heartbeat pounding in my ears like war drums preparing for surrender. But this wasn't a weakness.
This was courage.
This was the moment I’d dreaded… and the one I now had to face.
My lips parted, and the words—those awful, soul-shattering words—rose up like a storm from my chest.
“I, Seraphina Duskmoor,” I whispered, then steadied my voice, “accept the rejection of my mate, Draven of Shadowmoor Pack. From now on, we no longer have a bond, and I truly accept it… with all my heart.”
The wind stilled.
Everything is still.
It was as if the entire world had paused to bear witness to what I had just done.
And then—
I felt it.
The shift.
Sudden. Unforgiving. Absolute.
Like a thread being yanked from the very core of me.
The bond… the one I hadn’t asked for but had clung to all the same—it began to unravel.
At first, it was subtle—a lightness, like something uncoiling inside my ribs.
But then came the ache.
A gaping, hollowed-out ache that sucked the warmth from my veins.
It wasn’t just heartbreak.
It was the tearing of something sacred.
For years, I had carried this pain.
The weight of loving a man who didn’t love me back.
Of watching him choose someone else and pretending it didn’t shatter me.
Of waking up every day with hope gnawing at my chest and silence answering it.
It had been a burden—one I bore like armor.
But now…
Now it slipped away.
Piece by piece, the invisible string that tethered my soul to Draven disintegrated.
And all I could do was stand there—alone—while the remnants of our bond crumbled into ash within me.
The night around me grew colder, the breeze no longer brushing against skin—it pierced it.
I wrapped my arms around myself, my legs wobbled.
My vision blurred, the ground no longer felt solid beneath my feet.
And then—
Darkness.
- Writer
