Chapter 3

Alpha Thorne's claws twitched as his golden eyes locked onto the shredded scarf. "Beta Livia, what have you done?"

My spirit wavered, a phantom whine escaping my throat. For a fleeting moment, hope flickered - did the scarf's destruction pain him because his wolf still recognized me as mate?

Before I could process this, Livia's eyes flooded with crocodile tears, her lower lip trembling in perfect mimicry of distress. "Alpha, I just... the scarf smelled so much like you. I wanted to feel it against my skin, but my claws..." She held up her perfectly manicured hands where not a single claw was unsheathed. "This has your initials - did Luna Sylva make it? I'm so sorry..."

The lie stank worse than rotted prey. The scarf hadn't torn - it had been slashed with surgical precision. Yet Alpha Thorne's shoulders relaxed, his growl softening as he grasped her wrists with tender concern. "It's just fabric. Are you hurt?" His thumb brushed her unmarked palm. "If you like it, I'll have Sylva weave you another."

Ice flooded my spectral veins.

Not anger at my gift's destruction. Not outrage at her trespass. Just... concern for her.

And the casual cruelty of demanding I craft another - as if the months spent spinning moonlight-infused threads under the full moon meant nothing. As if my love was merely pack tribute to be reassigned at his whim.

I tried to retreat, to dissolve into the shadows, but the mate bond - even in death - chained me to his side. All I could do was turn my ghostly muzzle away.

Emboldened by his leniency, Livia pressed closer, her scent dripping with false heat. "Your den feels so empty tonight, Alpha. Let me warm your nest-"

Thorne recoiled as if burned, his sudden snarl shaking the walls. "Enough! This farce ends at the threshold." He pointed to the guest chamber, his canines glinting. "You sleep there."

The moment the door closed behind her, Alpha Thorne's composure shattered. He paced the scent-marked floors, digging his claws into the furs where we'd once mated. After three restless circles, he snatched his phone, obsessively scrolling through our bond-messages - all frozen at yesterday's dawn.

A frustrated growl rumbled through him as he typed:

[Still defiant? One apology is all it takes to come home, little wolf. Must you always bare your throat last?]

The screen remained dark. Not because I wouldn't answer... but because no spirit can breach the veil of death.

When morning came, shadows darkened his usually vibrant golden eyes. He grabbed the phone before even stretching, typing with uncharacteristic haste:

[Enough punishment. I'm coming to the den now.]

But as he reached for the door, Livia materialized like a specter, her claws digging into his forearm. "Alpha, my kin already feast in celebration of our union. The Frostfang Elders demand to scent your claim on me." Her voice dropped to a poisoned whisper. "Or shall I tell them their new Alpha breaks oaths like a human?"

The threat hung between them - her pregnancy with another wolf's pup was their secret, but her family's alliance was his pack's lifeline. His hesitation lasted only a heartbeat before he reached for his ceremonial cloak... and her waiting claws closed around his wrist in triumph.