Wolfless Luna: The Curse of Prophecy

Chapter 2. Shattered Promises

Constance couldn't recall how long she stayed there, staring at the door Keen had passed through. The air in the room felt suffocating, and her heart pounded in her chest as if it was trying to escape the misery she was experiencing. Keen's comments rang in her head, vicious and unforgiving. He had rejected her, urged her to leave, and, worst of all, he had not given her any explanation.

She had not moved since he went away. The numbness had taken control, burrowing its cold claws into her chest, and all she could do was stand there, stunned. This was not real. It could not be. They had planned their future together, and their lives were tied together, but now everything was gone.

But why? That concern, acute and insistent, pounded in her consciousness, demanding an answer. Keen's actions had been unusually harsh. She'd known him her entire life and shared her heart with him; there had to be more to it. There was something he was not telling her.

A quiet knock at the door brought her out of her trance. She stiffened, her tear-filled eyes darting towards the source of the noise. For a brief period, her heart hoped that Keen would come to explain or apologize. However, when the door cracked open, it was her best friend, Lyra.

"Constance?" Lyra's voice was gentle yet full of worry. She stepped inside, her gaze searching Constance's pale face, reading the agony written into every line of her appearance.

Constance opened her mouth to speak, but no words came. She hadn't realized tears were streaming down her cheeks until Lyra was in front of her, bringing her into a close embrace. Constance's dam ruptured at that very time. She sobbed onto Lyra's shoulder. Her whole body trembled with each sob.

"Hey, hey. It's fine. I am here." Lyra caressed her back softly, attempting to calm her. "What happened?"

"Keen…" Constance's voice cracked as she attempted to speak. "He rejected me. He ordered me to leave the pack tonight." The words felt weird, but they were now out in the open. Saying them aloud made the suffering worse and more genuine.

Lyra drew back slightly, her brow furrowing in disbelief. "What? No! That doesn't make sense. He has been in love with you for as long as I can remember. Why would he just—?"

"I don't know!" Constance cried. "He did not explain. He just looked at me like I was nothing and told me to leave." Her lips were shaking while she spoke, and her chest tightened. "I don't understand, Lyra. One minute, we were planning our future, and the next, he's throwing me out like I don't matter."

Lyra's eyes darkened with rage. "That's not right. He cannot just do this. There must be more to it. It seems like something is off."

Constance shook her head as tears streamed down her cheeks. "I'm not sure what to do. If I leave, I will be alone. I have no wolf, no status, nothing. I will be an outcast. Maybe I should die here."

"No!" The reply felt more like a life-or-death concern than a friend's worry. Lyra grasped Constance's shoulders firmly, pushing her to meet her gaze. "You aren't alone. You've got me. And if Keen thinks he can throw you away without giving an explanation, screw him. We will leave together."

Lyra nodded furiously. "You've heard me. I will not stay in a pack that treats my best friend as if she is garbage. You and I will go somewhere else. Make a fresh start. There are more packs, Constance. Other areas where we can be safe."

The idea of leaving with Lyra seemed like a lifeline, a glimmer of light in the gloom of the darkness. "But where will we go? I have never lived anywhere else."

Lyra smiled sweetly, her eyes warm despite the fury that lingered beneath the surface. "It does not matter where. What is important is that we will be together. You do not have to face this alone."

Constance's heart flooded with gratitude, even if it remained broken. Lyra's loyalty was unwavering, and her commitment soothed the fresh wounds Keen had inflicted. But fear kept clawing at her insides. "What happens if he changes his mind? What if this is all a misunderstanding, and I leave too early?"

Lyra's expression hardened but for a split second, another emotion—guilt, perhaps?—flashed across her face. "If he truly cared for you, he would not have let you leave like this. You deserve better, Constance. You deserve someone who will fight for you, not someone who abandons you without saying anything."

Constance bit her lip, her head filled with doubt and pain. But Lyra was right. If Keen had loved her as she believed, he would not have been so cold and merciless. Maybe there was something bigger going on, something she didn't understand, but she couldn't continue to be treated as if she was useless. Not anymore.

She took a big breath, wiped away her tears, and nodded. "Okay. Let's go. "I can't stay here."

Lyra smirked as she maintained her grip on Constance's hand. "That is my girl. Pack a few items; we'll leave through the east gate. It's the least guarded, and we can get away unnoticed."

Constance's heart raced as she quickly packed a small bag with clothes, personal items, and a blanket. Her fingers trembled as she worked, the reality of her departure settling in with each layer of clothing she added. This was actually happening. She was leaving the Ironhowl Pack, which had always been her home. And Keen—her mate, the man she had always loved—was no longer in her destiny.

She finished by slinging the bag over her shoulder and turning to Lyra, who was already at the door, watching the corridor for any movement. "Ready?" Lyra asked gently.

Constance nodded, her gut clenching with anxiety. "Yeah. Let's go."

They crept down the hall, the packhouse's strange calm enveloping about them like a blanket. Every step felt like a weight on Constance's chest, but she persisted, following Lyra's confident example.

Constance experienced an odd mix of dread and relief as they slid out of the packhouse and into the cool night air. The familiar aroma of the woodland surrounded them, but it no longer provided any comfort. This had once been her home, but now it was nothing more than a prison from which she desperately wanted to escape.

They went rapidly through the trees, staying in the shadows and avoiding any patrols. Constance's heart raced, both with fear of being caught and the overwhelming finality of what she was doing. This was it—she was leaving, for good. Everything she had known was behind her now.

When they reached the east gate, Lyra smiled firmly at her. "Almost there," she muttered. "Just a few more steps."

Constance nodded, her heart pounding in her ears. She returned her gaze to the packhouse once more, her chest squeezing with anguish and wrath. Keen was in there somewhere, sleeping or perhaps not caring that she was gone.

But as she looked back, something in her mind flashed—an image, a feeling—of Keen's last gaze before turning away. His eyes were not just cold but also troubled. She couldn't avoid the sense that there was something else beneath his rejection, something unspoken.

Lyra grabbed her arm before she could talk about her thoughts. "Come on," she said, her voice tight. "We need to keep moving."

Constance paused for a moment, her mind still focused on how Keen had looked at her. Did she miss something? Could there be more to his abrupt coldness than she suspected?

But then Lyra tensed her grip. "Let's go, Constance. We cannot stay here."

With Lyra by her side, they slid through the gate and into the forest beyond. Constance's shoulders were finally free of the weight of the Ironhowl Pack. She had no idea where they were going or what the future held, but for the first time since Keen's rejection, she felt hopeful.

She wasn't alone.

But when they vanished into the night, she couldn't shake her doubts. Why had Keen rejected her so harshly, and why did she suspect Lyra knew more than she was letting on?