Alpha, Could You Break Your Bond with Me?

The first sentence he said to me in a while was to get his mistress an orange juice.

My heart pulsed with fury, each beat a reminder of the gaping emptiness Garett had carved in our lives. No word about Noah, no apology—just a demand, as if my grief, my pain, were beneath his notice. I swallowed hard, the lump in my throat making it difficult to breathe, my fists curling tightly at my sides.

I took my time heading to the sunroom. Not because I wanted to follow his ridiculous order, but because, for the first time, I allowed myself to truly feel the anger that had been simmering beneath my sorrow. When I reached the kitchen, I didn’t make the juice myself. Instead, I looked at one of the maids—one of the same people I had been afraid to give orders to in this wretched pack—and simply said, “Make it. He wants it now.”

It was strange, almost freeing, to see the maid’s startled expression as she scurried away to fulfill my command. I had always played the part of the obedient Luna, biting my tongue to avoid Garett’s wrath, but today, I was done. Today, I would not bend for him.

By the time I reached the sunroom, I could hear Garett’s snarls through the door. He was berating the maid, his voice sharp with impatience.

“Fetch Vivian!” he barked. “Now!”

I sneered. How fitting. The great Alpha, barking orders for me to serve him while our son rotted in the ground.

I opened the door with casual indifference, refusing to show the storm brewing inside me. Garett turned, his expression immediately twisting into one of disdain when he saw me. His eyes swept over my black funeral dress, and he scoffed, the sound cruel and mocking.

“What kind of ploy is this now, Vivian?” His voice dripped with contempt. “You’re not fooling anyone with your theatrics. What are you trying to manipulate me into this time?”

His words were venomous, each syllable a slap to my face, but I refused to let him see the hurt. I had known the man Garett had become for a long time now. I wasn’t surprised by his cruelty—just hollowed by it.

I glanced over at Fiona, lounging on a chaise, her face was pale, wrapped in blankets Garett had carefully tucked around her. His hand rested gently on her arm, his eyes flickering with concern every time she coughed. As if she were a fragile piece of glass he couldn’t bear to see crack.

The bitter taste of betrayal rose in my throat. He had never looked at me like that, not even when I gave birth to Noah—his supposed son.

I squared my shoulders and met his glare head-on. “I’m not here to play your games, Garett. I’m here because the first thing you did when you came back wasn’t to check on our son. It wasn’t even to ask how I was doing.” My voice was cold, emotionless. “You came back and went straight to her, and then you sent for me—to fetch juice for your mistress.”

Garett’s eyes narrowed, his lips curling into a sneer. “Don’t talk to me about Noah.”

“Why not?” I stepped forward, my voice rising. “You’ve barely acknowledged him since the day he was born! He was dying, Garett, and you couldn’t be bothered to lift a finger—”

“Because he’s *not my son!*” Garett’s roar cut through the room like a whip. His eyes blazed with hatred as he stood, towering over me. “You think I don’t know? I know everything about you, Vivian. Every lie, every scheme. You’ve been trying to manipulate me from the start, trying to trap me with that boy, but it won’t work. It never has.”

His words hit me like a physical blow, knocking the wind from my lungs. He didn’t believe Noah was his. After everything—after all we’d been through, after all the suffering Noah endured—he still denied his own blood.

“Are you crazy?” I yelled. “I’m your mate, Garett! Why would I need to manipulate you?”

“Because you faked it,” he flatly said, making me speechless.

“You regret it that much to believe that, huh?” I whispered, my voice shaking.

Garett’s expression darkened. “Of course I regret it,” he spat. “If I had the power to change our fate, I would’ve chosen Fiona as my fated mate, not you. I would have spared myself the misery of being bound to you.”

A sharp, suffocating pain tore through my chest. His words cut deeper than any wound I had ever felt, deeper than the pain of losing my son. I could handle his indifference, his cruelty, but this—he was tearing apart what little remained of my soul.

I clenched my fists, my nails biting into my palms. “Noah was your son,” I said through gritted teeth. “No matter what you tell yourself, no matter what lies you’ve convinced yourself of, he was yours.”

Garett scoffed again, dismissing me with a wave of his hand. “You’re pathetic, Vivian. Trying to use him to pull me back in. I’m done with you. We’re done.”

I felt a cold emptiness spread through me as I stared at the man I once thought I loved. He wasn’t the person I had mated with, the person I had trusted. He was a stranger—cruel, bitter, and consumed by his own lies.