The Seven-Day Severance

Every face in the clearing had turned toward the dais. Alpha Caleb stood beneath the ceremonial moonstones with the Luna's coronet in both hands. Silver vines held moonpetal blossoms around its rim. I had wanted that crown since I was a girl. The moonstones washed his formal coat in pale light. From where I stood below, I could see the careful weave of the coronet and the tiny clasp I had once expected him to fasten in my hair. He carried it past me. Elara waited at his side with her chin lowered. Tears shone along her lashes, ready for the moment everyone looked at her. "The Red Moon Pack needs a Luna with strength and a willingness to sacrifice," Caleb announced. His voice reached the trees at the edge of the clearing. That same voice used to make promises against my hair after dark. He had spoken of a shared rule, children, and a bond no challenge could weaken. Now he used the same certainty to present another woman as the pack's choice. "When the rogues captured Elara, she put the pack's safety ahead of her own. People mistake her gentleness for weakness. I have seen her courage. She is the Luna we need." Whispers moved through the crowd. Several wolves looked at me and then quickly away. They expected a scene, and Caleb did too. His jaw tightened each time his attention strayed in my direction. Some of them had watched me treat their children or sit beside their wounded through the night. Even so, they waited for screaming and tears, eager to see how a rejected mate would behave. In my last life, I had given them one. I fell at his feet and begged him to remember the bond. Later, he used my grief as proof that I was unfit to lead. That humiliation had followed me long after the ceremony. Caleb repeated it whenever he needed the Elders to doubt my judgment. This time, my hands stayed still. Caleb set the coronet on Elara's blonde hair. She shut her eyes, and one tear rolled down her cheek. The applause began unevenly, then spread through the clearing. I moved while everyone was watching her. The Elders sat below the dais, gray fur bent beneath their formal robes. I walked toward them. The wolves in my path stepped aside. The applause thinned. Caleb turned to follow me, and the smile on Elara's face slipped before she fixed it. One Elder lowered his hands without finishing his clap. Another leaned toward Marcus, but the High Elder did not take his attention from me. I stopped in front of High Elder Marcus and bowed. "Elder, under the Ancient Laws, I, Serena, renounce my claim." Someone dropped a cup. A dozen voices rose at once. "I renounce my claim as the fated mate of Alpha Caleb." Caleb stared at me for one beat, then came down the first step of the dais. "Serena! What do you think you're doing? You will not turn this ceremony into another one of your tantrums." I kept my attention on Marcus. His hand had closed around the carved head of his cane. Unlike Caleb, he understood that my place in the pack extended far beyond the mate bond. He knew how many epidemics had stopped at our border and how many warriors had survived wounds that should have killed them. His alarm showed in the way his cane shook against the dais. "The Moon Goddess must dissolve the bond," I said. "The claim is mine to yield. I have yielded it." I turned away. Caleb shouted my name, but I kept walking at the same pace. His command followed me through the crowd. Nobody tried to block my path until I reached the edge of the clearing, where his guards received a sharp signal from the dais. Two of his guards followed me to the chambers I had occupied for years. Once I was inside, one of them pulled the oak door shut. The lock struck home from the other side. Neither guard pretended this was protection. One avoided my eyes while the other tested the handle twice, making sure I could not leave. Caleb had mistaken preparation for surrender. Moonlight reached across the floor to my healer's satchel. I took out the obsidian knife hidden beneath its false lining and tested the edge with my thumb. The full moon stood level with the window. Its light caught on jars, folded bandages, and the desk where I had spent years recording treatments for Caleb's pack. One cut across my left palm was enough. Blood gathered in the crease of my hand and ran over my wrist. The blade was cold. The sting came a moment later, clean and sharp, and my fingers tried to close around it. I pressed that palm over the mate mark on my right wrist. The silver design showed a howling wolf twisted around a crescent moon. I had once been proud to wear it. Heat tore up my arm. The mark flashed, bright enough to throw my shadow against the wall, and my knees hit the floor. I kept my palm in place until the light began to pulse. Every pulse pulled at the bond, urging me toward Caleb. I held on through memories of the last ceremony, the prison that followed it, and all the times he had chosen Elara before me. "Seven days," I said. When I lifted my hand, the mark remained, but one hair-thin line at the edge had disappeared. A pinch of silver dust lay on my skin. I blew it into the moonlight. On the other side of the compound, the music started again. Caleb had returned to the dais. Through the glass, I could hear the pack cheering for the Luna he had chosen.