A dying flame and a lonely shadow bear the weight of bygone vows. My claws clench the bond proof, heart thundering. Five years tied to Preston Vale-and today, the registry declares we were never bound. Joy turns to ice in my veins. I fly to Argentia, storming his hotel. A grand ceremony blazes in the hall-heralds chant Preston Vale's name, applause shaking the rafters. He wears traditional garb, smiling as he holds his mate. I shove through the crowd, catching their intimate pose. Whispers slice me: "Preston's true bond. Bianca's just a placeholder." Stumbling back, I collapse at the crowd's edge. More voices ring: "He waited for Thalia to come of age-never filed a real bond." "Five years, he's stayed -single." "Bianca meant nothing." Through blurred eyes, I hear him murmur to Thalia: "You're the only soul I crave for eternity." My phone vibrates. His message glows: " mate, I ache for you. Returning on our bond day. Yours, Preston." The same vow, spoken to two hearts. Memories flash: him scaling the peak at eighteen, swearing "forever"; the thousand love scrolls stained with his essence; our grand bond ceremony-all a sham to bide time for Thalia's adulthood. As guests disperse, I flee to an alley. Rain mixes with tears as I snarl: "This false bond-done! Preston Vale, liar of oaths-done!" Grasping my trunk, I stare at the stormy sky. In two weeks, I'll visit my parents' shrine, then vanish-burying the fake bond proof with my past. At the port, I call the healer's, voice shaking: "Schedule a termination." Hanging up, tears spill. My hand spasms around my passport-no hope for this broken tie. Today, the homebound skyship carries me away from this lies. I lift my chin, board the path to rebirth. The healer's words echo: "Miss Whitaker, your abdomen injury was grave. Conceiving is a miracle. Terminating may end your fertility." Clutching the cub-check scroll, I learn he hid this. When families pressed for cubs, he claimed "wanting more moonlit days with you." Now my heart splits: his "care" was to spare my pain. Stumbling from the healer's , I collide with Preston and Thalia Redding. He supports her from the scan room, worry in his eyes: "Brother, don't fret-'tis a cub, not sickness." "Of course I'm worried about you ,after all, it's our first kid." She's called him "brother" since my high school days. Watching them enter the lift, my core shatters: their visit celebrates her cub, while mine hangs in limbo. I return to the healer, scheduling the termination: no cub of mine will born into deceit, fatherless from the start. Dusk falls, and in the garage, I see them again. Preston leads Thalia to the Rotating Diner-built for my last birthday. "Only you deserve this seat," he once vowed. From the shadows, I watch Thalia in my place, desserts before her. Preston presents a diamond necklace: "Congrats, my princess, on our cub." My keys dig into my palm, tears fall. His "only love" belongs to another. I flee to an alley, heart dead. Two weeks later, at my parents' shrine, I cancel the termination-honoring my mother's sacrifice. Next, to the lawyer: all Preston's bonds, stocks, trusts-returned. My life, -cleared of his shadow. Night falls on the empty room. By a single lamp, I collapse on the sofa, staring at walls of our false joy. Each heartbeat rips me open.

I rise, tearing down frames: our childhood days, first date, proposal smiles, the diamond necklace vowed to bind us-shredding each into the shredder. Dawn breaks, walls bare. My arms numb, yet he still -absent. Today, our bond day. The fake bond proof lies torn by the registry, vows turned to mist. I draw a breath, quashing the last hesitation. Moving forward beats crumbling in place. At midnight, Preston posts on tele, praising our love. Hours later, millions -like it; pack screens loop his edited courtship videos, tenderness piercing my core. Outside, drones perform; 999 rose bouquets line the path, a giant crystal ring at the center, filled with -seasonal gifts. A music box repeats: " mate, happy bond day. I love you as ever." Expressionless, I shut the door, burying myself-none of this -concerns me. Minutes later, he calls, feigning a pack deal crisis. "Can't celebrate, but I'll -make it up." His lie makes me laugh, shaking: "Fine. Work first." "You're upset!" he presses. "I have -surprises!" "Tired. Sleeping," I say, disconnecting. Drones flash on, reporters wait, but my phone rings unanswered. Seeing Preston's name, I realize: his gifts, his "love"-mere -rehearsals for Thalia. Curled in the room, -heart slashed, I can't weep. Suddenly, the quilt rips back, light blinding me. He stands there-disheveled, haggard, -worried eyes. "You're safe!" He crushes me, voice raw. "Never leaving you again." Silent, I let him kneel, "Promise no more silent moons. I'd -die without you." I scoff: "Swift return." He diverts: "Hungry? I'll -cook." "No." I turn my back. He took me still throwing on my tantrum and walk downstairs. Ten -minutes later, laughter erupts-friends hang new photo scrolls. Spotting me, they rush: "Bianca, Preston's -frantic!" "He'd -lose it if you vanished!" "He even -dug through refuse for pics!" "Silence,". Preston, apron-clad, growls: "My fault. She can -punish me." Thalia steps forward, -envious: "Preston's a mate-devoter. So lucky, sister." He nuzzles me: "My -mate deserves all." Chills run through me, but I bite my tongue. "No need for pics. I'll -repaint the walls." He hugs me, -cooing: "As my mate wishes." Laughter fills the room as he cooks my -favorite dishes, but my tongue tastes only ash. Under the table, his hand interlaces with Thalia's. I look up to his smile, my -heart turned to ice. After the -feast, he carries me out, friends jeering. Thalia laughs beside us, but I catch -envy in her eyes. He stages a -sea fireworks show, hires my beloved -band. Mid-performance, he slips to the -closet. I follow, unbidden. Thalia kisses Preston fervently,"I miss you so much." Preston kisses her back."Ignore her, my heart only has you now." In the Rotating Diner's corner, my reflection weeps in the mirror. His -love splits in two; I was but a rehearsed prologue. I leave the hall ,-night closing behind me. Racing to the -closet, I retch, clutching my aching abdomen. "Forgive me, cub. I won't birth you into -lies." Drying my face, I find them gone from the noisy room. In the diner's light, he fastens my cherished necklace on Thalia, murmuring: "I'll guard you and the cub always." The glass in my hand dropped on the floor, Thalia turned, passing me a glass of wine. "It doesn't matter sister, take a sip of this.: I devoured the wine, suddenly my stomach hurts. "Pain. unbearable." Thalia revealed a wicked smile. Preston ordered his driver to take me to the healer's while he continued his dancing with Thalia.

Waking in the -healer's, my palm finds my flat abdomen. "Gone," a nurse states. "Heavy poisoning. No cub survived. Enforcers need your -statement. Pay the fee." I call Preston--shut off. He'd vowed to -rush to me, yet stayed with Thalia. "No -kin," I say weakly. The nurse sighs: "Another she-wolf had a -miscarriage scare-her mate flew in a top -team. You're alone." She means Preston and Thalia. I move to a VIP room, hiring a -expert to test the poisoned glass. Till discharge, Preston stays -silent. At Whitaker villa, I stash Mother's crystal ring, purge all his traces then rename myself at the pack registry office-let him never -find me. Home, I find Thalia on my sofa, my blanket around her, eating my -snacks. "Sister! Want chocolate cake? Brother's buying," she chirps. "Why you touch my things?" My voice freezes, chest aching-he knew my -rage at trespassers, yet let her. "Starving.I'm sorry..." She drops snacks, tears welling. Preston's steps sound: "Mate, what's-" He halts, then scowls at Thalia: "My mate hates this. Clean the room!" He gives her cake: "Leave. Never return." Thalia is dazed for a moment and stumbles into me, and we fall. My head hits the -rack with a crack. "Thalia!" Preston cries, scooping her up, ignoring my -bloodied form. Darkness claims me. Waking at midnight, thirsty, I reach for the -nightstand-no water. Downstairs, by the guest room, their voices: "My fault sister's hurt," Thalia weeps. "You can't -starve since you're pregnant. I over-loved her. No more tears-my -heart breaks," Preston croons, nuzzling her. "You're my little -siren." Prestons' throat moves, last time they were too fierce that Thalia almost lost her kid. "You want that again? But sister is hurt, she can't satisfy your need." "Even if she is not hurt, I will never lay a finger on her.My heat is only yours." "Brother, I can do that with my mouth......" I turn, -heart numb. Back in the -kitchen, I pour water, but thirst fails me. The -head wound drags me to bed, waking next eve. Preston starts: " mate, I tried to save you, but you fell too fast-" His eyes shift. I cut in: "Where's Thalia?" "Blame not her. She near--fell too." "Understood." I pause. "Tomorrow's my parents' -shrine day. Join me?" "Of course." Relief floods his face, yet -worry lingers. I see: I'm no longer his -obsession. Next morn, in black -garb, I ride with him. He preps breakfast, -offerings. "Feeling better, mate?" I nod wordless. At the -shrine gate, his phone rings. He jams the brake, dust flying. "-emergency. Wait here; I'll return." I step out, watching him speed off-his Bluetooth screen glows "Thalia -love." He chooses her, freeing me. Alone, I face the shrine gates. "I no longer -love him." Thalia strides from shadows, phone in hand: "See? He loves me! A -mate like you should flee." I turn to my parents' shrine: "Keep your -trash." She snarls: "Abandoned she-wolf! He waited five moons for me. You're a -joke !" I pause: "Without Preston, I'm still Whitaker. Even as Mrs. Vale, you lack -right to sneer. I chose to leave." "You'll -regret this, Bianca!" At my parents' -stone, I speak calmly: "All five years told. I've let go. I'll -protect myself." As night falls, I leave the shrine. A -stalker trails me. I reach for my phone-darkness claims me, a cloth over my nose and mouth.