Chapter 73 – Shattered
She couldn’t move.
The command still echoed in her ears, sharp and cold: *“Take her away.”*
Giselle stood frozen in place, her breath caught somewhere between her lungs and her throat. The world spun around her, spinning so fast she thought it might knock her off her feet—but somehow she stayed upright, rooted by shock and heartbreak.
Across the room, Rowan stood tall on the stage, his face unreadable. His shoulders were drawn back, his chin lifted in a way that screamed power, authority—dominance. But his eyes… his eyes were locked on hers.
And they were empty.
Like he didn’t know her.
Didn’t remember her.
Didn’t love her.
Something inside her cracked wide open. The ache rushed in, so full and sharp that she swore she could feel her bond physically fraying. Her heart beat too hard, too loud, drowning out the chaos erupting around her.
She barely registered the whispers around her—sharp gasps, voices hissing her name, the shifting of feet as the pack reacted to Rowan’s command.
Only when two warriors stepped forward and gripped her arms did she realize what was happening.
“No,” she whispered, breathless. “No, you don’t understand. I’m his mate!”
Rowan flinched.
The barest twitch of his jaw.
But he didn’t stop them.
Didn’t *say* anything.
Didn’t *move*.
“Rowan!” she screamed as the guards pulled her back a step. Her voice cracked. “Look at me! *Please!* It’s me. I’m yours. You marked me—*we’re bonded!*”
Nothing.
Just that same hollow gaze, trained on her like she was an inconvenient interruption.
Like she was no one.
Her stomach twisted violently, nausea rising like bile in her throat. She wanted to collapse right there, to give in to the agony clawing at her chest, but she couldn’t—not yet.
“I came back for you,” she choked out, her legs resisting the guards’ pull. “I *fought* to get back to you. I risked *everything.*”
Still… nothing.
His silence felt like a knife slowly twisting inside her.
The pressure on her arms tightened, the guards yanking her back toward the doors. Her boots dragged across the ballroom floor as she twisted in their grip, refusing to take her eyes off him. The lights above blurred in her tear-filled vision.
“Rowan…” Her voice was barely a whisper now. “Please… *come back to me.*”
His brows knit slightly.
For one, fleeting second, she saw something break in his stare—confusion, maybe. Pain. Recognition?
But it was gone too fast.
Rhea stood beside him like a queen ready to take her throne, her hand on his arm, her lips curved in something that might have been satisfaction. Giselle watched her say something—she couldn’t hear it over the rush in her ears—but Rowan nodded once, absently, as if her words anchored him.
Anchored him *away* from Giselle.
From *them.*
The guards shoved the ballroom doors open.
As they dragged her out into the hallway, the cool air of the corridor did nothing to ease the fire blistering inside her. Her heart felt like it had been dropped from the highest cliff, shattering into pieces she didn’t know how to pick up.
The sound of the ballroom doors slamming shut behind her echoed like a coffin sealing.
“Aeris,” she gasped, reaching inward. “Please. Help me.”
Her wolf stirred weakly, the connection flickering like a dying flame. ‘I’m here’, came the faintest whisper, trembling and thin.
Tears spilled freely now, her entire body shaking with rage and sorrow.
“They took him from us,” she whispered, more to herself than anyone else. “They *did* something to him. That’s not my mate. That’s not *Rowan.*”
But deep down… the fear slithered in.
What if it was?
What if he chose this?
What if she was already too late?
The pain pressed down harder—too vast to carry, too sharp to ignore.
The cold stone beneath her feet felt like ice, grounding her just enough to stop her knees from giving out entirely. Her lungs burned with the effort to hold back the sob clawing its way up her throat. Her body screamed with the weight of everything that had just happened.
And then—
“Giselle.”
She turned her head sharply, heart lurching at the familiar voice.
Beta Kalen.
He was suddenly at her side, his eyes filled with sharp fury as they locked on hers, and then flicked to the two guards who still had hold of her arms.
Without hesitation, he growled out a low, guttural command. Two more warriors emerged from the shadows on either side of them, their movements swift and lethal. Before the guards even had a chance to react, they were seized—jerked backward, hands wrenched from her arms with bruising force.
The moment their grip loosened, Giselle stumbled forward, breath ragged, vision swimming. Kalen caught her before she could fall, one steadying arm at her back. Behind them, angry voices rose. Fists landed. She heard the *thud* of someone slamming into a wall.
Inside the ballroom, more chaos had erupted. The echo of snarls, shouted commands, and confusion pulsed through the doors like a storm waiting to break free.
Kalen leaned in close, his mouth brushing her ear. “Don’t give up on him,” he said, his voice rough with urgency. “I swear to you, I’m going to get you back inside. You’ll try again.”
Her heart clenched at the raw hope in his words, even as doubt twisted inside her.
“Is he still… is there still a chance?” she asked, her voice barely audible.
But Kalen didn’t answer with words.
Instead, he squeezed her shoulder tightly, his jaw clenched, and nodded once.
And then, like a flickering flame reigniting in the darkness, Aeris stirred.
‘We don’t have much time.’ The voice of her wolf came through sharp and clear in her mind, not the trembling whisper from earlier. It rang with power and urgency.
‘The bond is still there, Giselle. I can feel it… But it’s buried under layers of whatever spell they’ve wrapped him in. The only way to reach him now is to finish the mark. You have to claim him—fully. Make him remember.’
Giselle’s eyes widened, her lips parting in shock.
Claim him. Finish the bond.
The image of Rowan’s mouth descending toward Rhea’s neck flashed in her mind, a jagged wound across her heart. But that wasn’t who he was—not really. She knew Rowan down to her soul.
And he was hers.
She straightened, her spine locking into place as a new resolve coursed through her.
“I’m going back in,” she said to Kalen, her voice steady despite the tremor in her limbs. “I don’t care what it takes.”
Kalen gave her a grim smile. “That’s what I was hoping you’d say.”
She glanced once toward the ballroom doors, where screams still echoed and magic buzzed faintly in the air.
He was in there—her mate, her other half—*lost to her*.
But not for long.
Not if she had anything to say about it.
She was going to get him back. Even if she had to tear down every Elder standing in her way to do it.
They hadn’t won yet.
And she would burn the entire world down before she let them take him from her forever.
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