It Doesn’t Matter Anymore novel Chapter 74

Chapter 74

Chapter 74

Joseph ended up back at the pack lands. He didn’t remember driving. The Alpha Villa was dark Quiet like a grave

He stumbled into the living room. The blood moon lit the fireplace. A pile of gray ash was all that was left

He got on his knees. Ignored the dirt. Dug his hands into the ash. It was still warm.

He dug like a madman, claws black with soot.

He found a piece. A corner of an old parchment. Half of his younger face. His eyes looked out, searching.

Next to it, a burnt page. Most of the writing was gone, but one line was clear:

[… May the Moon Goddess witness, souls resonating, never to betray.]

Our first Blood Oath. The year of my Awakening.

More in the ash. Amulets from The Argent Spire. A fang necklace from our first hunt. The first moonflower he ever gave me. All just black dust

He held a handful of ash. It felt like a fist crushing his wolf heart. He curled up on the floor. A low, broken whine came out of him.

All of it. Every memory. Every vow. He wrecked it. I burned it.

“Awoooo-!”

He howled at the ceiling. The sound shattered a nearby glass. It didn’t bring me back.

He couldn’t stay. The den stank of my old scent, and the pain of the severed bond. He ran. Drove to The Lonesome Howl Tavern on the border

Inside, he drank. Glass after glass of strong, bad liquor. It burned. The fog in his head just made the weight in his soul heavier.

He saw a shape in the corner. White priestess robes. Black hair.

“Lois…”

He stumbled over. Wrapped his arms around her from behind, holding tight. His Alpha pressure filled the space.

“Lois, my Luna, you came back. I knew you couldn’t cut the bond…”

“I won’t cut it. I was wrong, Joseph. Please, don’t leave.”

The woman turned around.

Caked makeup. Cheap powder smell. She smiled, rubbed against him. “Lord Alpha, wrong girl. But I don’t mind being your Luna tonight

The sweet perfume killed the illusion. Not Lois. Not her forest-and-laurel scent.

Rage replaced the hope.

“Get lost!” he roared.

He shoved her. Hard. She crashed into a wood table. Splinters.

Crash-

Bottles smashed She screamed, her palm cut on silver table trim. The wound smoked, wouldn’t heal.

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