Chapter 121 – Breaking Bonds
Rowan held Merek’s pleading gaze for a long, silent moment. The man before him was broken—bloodied in both body and soul—but there were wounds that no healer could mend. Not after all that had been lost.
He exhaled slowly, the ache in his ribs still deep, but not nearly as heavy as the one in his heart. “My Luna has spoken,” Rowan said at last, his voice low but resolute. “And she’s right.”
Merek’s brows pinched together, his breath catching.
“You can’t be trusted,” Rowan continued. “Not after the choices you made. Not after what your actions cost this pack.”
Tears welled in Merek’s eyes, his shoulders sagging as though the denial alone had taken the last of his strength. “Then where do I go?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. “If not here… where?”
The silence that followed stretched between them like a chasm—one that couldn’t be crossed.
Until Elder Malric stepped forward. “I’ll go with you.”
All eyes turned to the elder. Even Merek flinched, stunned by the declaration.
“What?” Rowan asked quietly.
Malric didn’t look at him. His attention remained fixed on the son who had once turned his back on him. “He may not deserve the pack’s forgiveness,” Malric said, “but I owe him this.”
Merek took a step back, confused. “You… don’t have to—”
“I do,” Malric cut in gently, but firmly. “I failed you long before the Bonecaster ever got her claws in you. I was supposed to protect you, guide you. But instead, I let my pride and the pressure of my rank blind me. I see that now.”
He finally turned toward Rowan and gave a respectful dip of his head. “With your permission, Alpha… I’d like to sever my bond with the pack.”
Rowan stared at him, a tangle of conflict roiling beneath his skin. The elder had caused problems—yes. He’d been arrogant, secretive, even cruel. But in the end, he had shown loyalty when it counted. Still, Rowan saw the determination in the old man’s eyes, and he understood.
He gave a single nod.
The silence that followed was pierced only by the wind rustling the trees and the distant murmur of pack life beyond the gate. Malric stepped away from the group and fell to his knees in the dirt.
Rowan closed his eyes and reached inward, calling on the ancient tether between them—the bond of Alpha and packmate. And then, with a mental strain that tugged at his very soul, he *cut* it.
Malric gasped as the severing tore through him. A cry escaped his lips before he could catch it, and he pitched forward, hands digging into the dirt. The spiritual link that had tethered him to his people was gone. The magic of the pack, its warmth and strength, now absent from his core.
Merek dropped beside him, catching his father as he swayed. “You didn’t have to do that for me,” he choked out.
Malric winced but brushed him off with a shaky hand. “It’s the least I could do,” he said hoarsely. “I wasn’t the father you needed, Merek. But maybe… maybe I can still be the one you deserve now.”
He turned his weary eyes back to Rowan and Giselle. “I’m sorry. For everything. For my part in the corruption. For failing both of you when you needed strength the most. You deserve peace, and a future full of light. I hope you get it.”
Rowan said nothing, but the tightness in his jaw eased slightly. Beside him, Giselle’s hand slid into his.
The two outcasts turned to leave, but Giselle’s voice halted them. “Wait.”
They turned, and she stepped forward, her expression unreadable, her lips parted with hesitation. She chewed the inside of her cheek for a moment before finally speaking.
“There’s a clearing just beyond the border, near the old orchard,” she said. “Camp there tonight. Merek needs rest if he’s going to recover.” She looked between them. “I’ll send medicine, food, and supplies so you can travel by first light.”
Merek’s eyes widened. “You’d… do that? After everything—”
“I’m not doing it for you,” she interrupted coolly, but there was no malice in her voice. “I’m doing it for your daughter. And for the ones who didn’t make it back.”
Still, his gratitude was immediate and raw. “Thank you,” he breathed. “Thank you… I—I can’t say it enough.”
Giselle only nodded, then turned away, her hand tightening in Rowan’s as if to anchor herself again.
Rowan’s eyes lingered on the path Merek and Malric had taken until the trees swallowed them from view. He straightened his spine, tamping down the ache in his limbs as he shifted his attention to the warriors flanking the gate.
“Post two guards near their campsite,” he ordered, his voice steady despite the fatigue pulling at him. “Keep your distance, but watch them closely. Merek may seem remorseful, but trust is earned… and he hasn’t earned ours yet.”
“Aye, Alpha,” one of the warriors replied with a firm nod before jogging off to relay the command.
Beside him, Giselle gave a small approving hum. “Good call,” she murmured, brushing her fingers along the back of his hand. “Kindness shouldn’t mean letting our guard down.”
Rowan met her gaze and gave a slight nod. “Exactly.”
With the matter settled, Rowan allowed himself to lean slightly into Luther’s steady shoulder as the warrior resumed his place at his side. Giselle moved to Rowan’s other flank, sliding her arm around his waist to help support his weight as they turned and made their slow trek back toward the packhouse.
The moment they crossed the courtyard threshold, the door creaked open, and the pack was waiting.
They came in waves—women with tear-swollen eyes, children with hesitant glances, warriors with bandaged wounds and exhaustion written deep into their bones. And yet, their focus remained on one man. Their Alpha.
“Alpha,” one of the elders whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “We felt the packlink snap… We feared the worst.”
“What happened?” another called out. “Why would an Elder sever his bond?”
Rowan raised a hand to calm the crowd, even as more gathered at the edges of the porch and steps. “There’s no need for fear,” he said, voice projecting despite the hoarseness settling in his throat. “Elder Malric chose to leave the pack of his own accord.”
Gasps sounded around him, but Rowan pressed on.
“He’s gone to be with his son, Merek,” he explained. “The man who aided the rogues, abandoned his daughter, and turned his back on the pack. Malric believes it is his duty to guide him now and, in doing so, removed himself from our bond.”
A ripple of unease moved through the gathering.
“I know things feel uncertain,” Rowan continued, scanning each face, letting his words settle into the hearts of his people. “We have lost much. We’ve bled and suffered. Our hearts are bruised and raw, and for many of you, the pain is far from over. But make no mistake—” He paused, allowing the silence to settle before his voice rang out stronger. “—We are not broken.”
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