THE ALPHA'S FORSAKEN ORACLE

CHAPTER TWO: THE EXILE

(Mirabel's POV)

I stumbled through the forest like a wounded animal, each step sending fresh agony through my chest where the mate bond had been severed.

Vincent's rejection replayed in my mind on an endless loop. His cold eyes, his dismissive words, the way he had thrown away three years without a second thought because Philip convinced him I was lying about visions that were trying to save his life.

My wolf whimpered inside me, broken and confused, unable to understand why our mate had cast us out so cruelly. The physical pain was unbearable, worse than any injury I had ever experienced, a constant burning sensation that made it hard to breathe or think clearly. But the emotional devastation cut even deeper, shredding through my heart with claws sharper than any weapon.

I had loved Vincent with everything I had, believed in our bond with absolute faith, trusted him to protect me the way I had always protected him with my prophecies. And he had destroyed it all because his best friend whispered poison in his ear, because believing me would have required courage and effort he was unwilling to give.

The rejection sickness was killing me slowly, I could feel it in my bones. Wolves who lost their mates often died from the trauma, their bodies simply giving up when the bond shattered, and I was already weak from three years of being dismissed and doubted. Part of me wanted to just lie down and let death take me, to escape the agony and heartbreak, but something stubborn in my core refused to surrender.

My prophetic visions had gone completely silent since Vincent rejected me, my gift seemingly broken along with everything else. Their absence left me feeling blind and vulnerable in ways I had never experienced before, like I was stumbling through the world without one of my essential senses.

I had been having visions since I was twelve years old, had grown accustomed to the constant whisper of possible futures in the back of my mind, and the sudden silence was terrifying.

I did not know where I was going, had no destination or plan beyond putting as much distance as possible between myself and Moonstone Pack before the pain killed me. I crossed through unfamiliar territories, too broken to care about borders or protocol, barely registering the landscape around me.

Three days I wandered like this, barely eating, barely sleeping, just moving forward mechanically because stopping meant facing the full weight of what I had lost. My clothes were torn and filthy, my hair tangled with leaves and dirt, and I probably looked more like a rogue than a pack wolf at this point.

On the fourth day, I crossed into territory that felt different somehow, darker and wilder than the lands I had traveled through before. The trees here were ancient and twisted, the shadows deeper, and I could sense powerful magic humming through the earth beneath my feet. Some distant part of my mind recognized this as Shadow Court territory, the pack led by Solomon, Vincent's exiled brother who I had never met.

I should have been afraid, should have turned back or at least tried to avoid detection, but I was too exhausted and broken to care anymore. The bond sickness had reached critical levels and I could feel my body starting to shut down, surrendering to the trauma it could not survive.

I made it maybe fifty feet past the border before my legs gave out completely and I collapsed face-first into the dirt, darkness rushing up to claim me. My last conscious thought was that at least I would die on neutral ground, away from the pack that had rejected me.

That was where Solomon found me hours later, unconscious and barely breathing at his territory's edge, and everything changed in ways I could never have predicted.