Lysandra's POV
He studied me with those cold, penetrating gray eyes.
"This is not a decision to make lightly."
"It's not hasty," I replied, steady despite the storm inside me. "I've had months to consider this path."
A servant was dispatched to fetch Luna Isolde. She arrived minutes later, gliding into the chamber with her usual poise. Her silver-gray gown shimmered like liquid moonlight, her presence commanding even in silence.
"Lysandra wishes to undergo the severance ritual tonight," Fenris explained before I could speak.
Isolde's composed expression faltered.
"What happened? What did Tristan do?"
My throat tightened. How could I sum up two years of pain and rejection? The cold silence, the cruel jabs, the distant eyes. A marriage that existed in name only.
"The bond was never real," I said simply. "He never accepted what you arranged."
I didn't dare mention the twins not after what Tristan had said. His words still rang in my mind: that he'd never allow his heir to be carried by a defective specimen like me.
Fenris turned away, moving toward the ancient fireplace. His eyes lingered on a faded mural of the pack's lineage.
"Where will you go?" he asked softly.
"I'll leave the pack."
"Like a Rogue?" His voice was tight. "Do you even understand what that means?"
I nodded. I didn't know everything, but I knew enough. Rogues belonged nowhere. But I had no one here who wanted me not truly. And I had to protect my babies.
Fenris's frown deepened. "Please reconsider, Lysandra."
My mind flashed to the moment Tristan signed the scroll that bound us no hesitation, no emotion. If he didn't reconsider then, why should I now?
"I'm sorry, Alpha. I've made up my mind."
His face aged in that moment, a man burdened by regret. He had tried gods know he had tried to make his son see me for who I was. But Tristan had never listened.
Something flickered in his eyes, a shadow of something deeper.
"Perhaps..." he murmured, "...this is exactly the path the prophecy meant. Separation is not the end but a necessary trial."
I frowned. Prophecy? Tristan had thrown that word at me during arguments, accusing me of using it to manipulate his father. I had never known what he meant.
Before I could ask, Fenris nodded solemnly.
"If this is truly your choice, I will respect it."
Just then, the heavy oak doors slammed open.
Tristan stormed in, his ritual robes flowing behind him like storm clouds.
"Lysandra!" he barked, striding toward me, rage rolling off him in waves.
All eyes turned as he grabbed my wrist, yanking me toward him.
"What lies have you been whispering to my father?" he sneered. "Another prophecy, maybe?"
I stared into his furious eyes, wondering how a man could hate me this much especially when I was giving him the very freedom he'd always craved.
"Release her." Fenris's command cracked like thunder, his Alpha authority undeniable.
"But Da—"
"Enough!"
Tristan's grip tightened for a breath, then released. His fists clenched at his sides, jaw twitching with fury.
"You agreed to cut the bond without even consulting me?" Fenris growled. "Have you forgotten what I told you before you married?"
Isolde stepped forward, her voice like soft velvet over steel.
"What did you do that drove her to this?" she demanded of her son.
When Tristan said nothing, her gaze turned to me.
"My dear," she said gently, "please. Tell us what happened. We can fix this."
I tried. Gods, I tried. But all I could see was Tristan pouring wine over my head on our wedding night, mocking me in front of his friends. The biting insults. The months of silence. The way he looked at me like I was something broken.
Two years of pretending we were anything but strangers. Two years of waiting for a man who never came home never wanted to.
Tears blurred my vision. My throat closed. I had no words left.
Tristan met my gaze with pure venom.
"Let's get this over with," he spat.
Moonlight flooded the circular ritual chamber through its glass dome, illuminating the ancient stone ring where Tristan and I stood.
Alpha Fenris and Luna Isolde took their positions, the pack elders forming a solemn circle around us. Just before entering, I quickly swallowed Dr. Rylan's protective potion, praying it would shield my unborn children.
Isolde's eyes met mine, filled with unspoken understanding. "Last chance, child. Are you certain?"
I touched the mark on my neck the one Tristan had been forced to give me on our wedding night.
Everyone else had found their true mates everyone
except us. Yet I had fallen hopelessly in love with him despite knowing we weren't true mates.
For two years after, he treated our mate bond like a chain he longed to break. My fingers trembled as I nodded.
"Begin," Fenris commanded.
We knelt at opposite sides of the stone circle.
Tristan's face remained impassive as the silver knife was passed to him first. He sliced his palm without hesitation, dark blood dripping onto the ritual stone.
When the knife reached me, I drew it across my skin, watching my blood join his.
The elders began chanting in the ancient tongue.
Each syllable seemed to pull at something deep within me, unraveling threads I hadn't known existed. Pain exploded through my body as the mate bond began to tear.
Blood filled my mouth as the mark on my neck burned white-hot. I doubled over, retching crimson onto the stone floor. Through blurred vision, I saw Tristan watching, his only reaction a slight furrow of his brow as I choked on my own blood.
"Blood bound in force, now break apart. Bond made in duty, now cease to be."
The words ripped through me like barbed wire. I felt the mate bond splintering, each crack sending fresh agony coursing through my veins. The mark on my neck seemed to sear itself away, leaving only scarred flesh behind.
Tristan stood unmoved, though a muscle ticked in his jaw. His eyes remained cold as ice as he watched me suffer, as if this was nothing more than a minor inconvenience in his day.
When the final words faded, I forced myself to my feet despite the blood still dripping from my lips. My legs shook, but I refused to show weakness. The mark that had bound me to him was gone, leaving only smooth skin behind.
"The mate bond is severed," Fenris declared solemnly.
I walked toward the exit on trembling legs, tasting copper and victory. At the threshold, I paused for one final look at the man who had marked me without love.
"From this moment, I am Rogue," I said clearly. "But I am no longer your prisoner."