Bound and Burned by the One I Loved novel Chapter 5

Chapter 5 

I walked alone. 

The den I had shared with Cassian for five years was ash and cinder. I did not look back. I found a chamber in the outer rim-a cramped, cold space with walls that smelled of mold instead of pack scent- and paid three months’ rent with the last of my savings. 

Then I went to the enforcer’s station. 

The investigator at the desk recognized my face immediately from the public channel. His lip curled.” The arsonist. Come to confess?” 

I said nothing. I placed two items on his desk: the security crystal from my den’s threshold, and my pack- link pad. 

“Play the crystal,” I said. “Read the messages.” 

He sneered, but he played it. 

The projection flickered to life. Eira, clear as moonlight, pouring accelerant on my threshold. Striking the spark. Running. 

Then the messages. Eira’s voice, dripping venom: “Last life you couldn’t win. This life, you’re still the loser. Accept it-your bastard was never meant to be born.” 

The investigator’s sneer vanished. His face went pale, then red with shame. 

“Why…” He cleared his throat. “Why didn’t you bring this sooner?” 

I looked him in the eye. “Timing. If I’d released this before the severance was finalized, I would still be bound to him. Legally. Magically.” I leaned forward. “I needed her to soar to the highest peak before I cut her wings. That is how revenge works, Investigator.” 

ectful. 

He said nothing. Only nodded, his eyes now wary, respectful. 

I walked out into the gray afternoon. 

I needed work. Immediately. The medical fees for my injuries had emptied my reserves, and I would need coin to prosecute Eira through the courts-lawyers in the pack territories did not work for gratitude. 

I sent my credentials to every enterprise in the city. 

Blacklisted. 

Number blocked. 

Every door slammed in my face. 

I called the pack-run healing houses. They saw my name on the caller ID and disconnected, I called the bunting guilds Silence I called the textile workshops A manager laughed-actually laughed-and said,” We don’t hire pup-killers bere, traitor.” 

My credentials were impeccable. I had been top of my training class. I had managed Cassian’s household for five years with perfect efficiency. 

None of it mattered. The network had judged me. I was the she-wolf who burned her own den. Who murdered her own pup to frame an innocent 

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