Calla left Valenti territory before sunset. No escort. No announcement. No ceremony. She moved through the outer gates with a single pack guide—an older wolf named Marek who didn’t ask questions and didn’t look back. The bond tugged with every step, a low ache beneath her ribs, like a muscle pulled too far and left to throb. She didn’t sever it. She loosened it. That choice hurt more than any blade. Behind her, the estate receded into shadow. Towers. Walls. Guards who watched her go with confusion etched into their faces. They didn’t stop her. They wouldn’t have known how.
The Neutral Pass cut through the mountains like a scar—claimed by no pack, ruled by no Alpha. Winds howled through the stone corridors, carrying scents from a hundred territories. Perfect for disappearing. Calla stood
