Chapter 9
The disruption at the mating ceremony faded as quickly as it began.
Under the officiant’s direction, Hugo and I spoke our vows before the pack, exchanged our bond rings, and
sealed our mate bond with a kiss that felt steady and irrevocable.
When he noticed the strain in my expression, he brushed his thumb lightly over my knuckles.
“Go rest,” he murmured. “I’ll handle the guests.”
He signaled two warriors to escort me home.
The car had barely pulled away from the wolf keep when a figure lunged out of the shadows.
Julian.
He slammed his palm against the window and gripped the frame as if brute force alone could stop the
vehicle.
“Wynne!” His voice cracked. “He pressured you, didn’t he? He forced you to seal the mate bond! You love me.
You’re mine!”
Mine.
The word felt distant. Hollow.
I said nothing.
I pressed the window control.
The glass began to rise.
Julian did not release his grip. The edge crushed down over his fingers. Blood smeared across the window
as bone strained under pressure.
His jaw tightened, but he refused to let go.
I lowered the glass just enough and shoved him away with every ounce of strength I had.
He stumbled backward and hit the pavement hard.
“Drive,” I said calmly.
Through the rearview mirror, I watched him shrink into the distance until he disappeared entirely.
I thought that was the last time I would see him.
I underestimated desperation.
Three days later, he appeared at the villa with Tyla.
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She stood at the front gate, sobbing loudly enough for the entire street to hear.
“Mom! I was wrong! Please come home! I’ll be good! I promise I’ll change!”
From the balcony, I studied her.
She had lost weight. The roundness in her cheeks was gone. Her collarbones showed more sharply than I
remembered.
In the three months since I left Wolf City, rumors traveled fast.
Julian had blamed my departure entirely on Agnes. In the middle of the night, he reportedly stormed into the
old estate and threw a signed vasectomy consent form onto her desk.
He swore publicly that he would never have another child and would never take another mate besides me.
Agnes suffered a stroke that same night and was rushed to the pack hospital.
Julian never visited her.
He told the staff that unless she died, they were not to contact him.
He brought Tyla back to the house we once shared and made her kneel in the living room for three days to
reflect on what she had done to me with the fireworks.
Serena tried to turn the situation in her favor. She knelt beside Tyla in performative solidarity and began
preparing meals for Tyla every day.
But Tyla had always had a sensitive stomach.
I used to prepare specialized meals for her, adjusting herbs and ingredients to keep her system balanced.
She had rarely been sick under my care.
Serena did not know how to cook.
She fed Tyla fast food and fried chicken daily.
At first, Tyla loved it. She even told Julian that Serena was the best mom in the world.
Within weeks, Tyla was doubled over in pain. Severe internal bleeding followed.
She was rushed to the hospital and diagnosed with a perforated stomach.
Part of her stomach had to be surgically removed.
When Serena realized Julian would investigate, she tried to disappear overnight.
At the same time, Julian went through the old phone I had left behind.
He discovered years of messages. Photos Serena had sent me. Images of them in bed. Mockery. Taunts.
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Witnesses said the veins in his hands stood out as he ordered his warriors to drag Serena back.
He beat her so severely that both legs were shattered beyond repair.
She would never walk again.
I let the curtain fall closed.
Outside, Julian suddenly dropped to his knees in the driveway.
“Wynne!” he shouted hoarsely. “I never betrayed you! Serena and I were acting. She was never pregnant with
my child. I used her to distract Agnes. I thought if she believed I had another option, she would finally accept
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