Chapter 7
“These are the proofs,” my voice cut through the heavy air of the Bloodmoon Pack’s grand feast. “Please, everyone here, witness this–I’m rejecting Silan Grant as my mate!”
Silan went wild, rushing onto the stage to grab the evidence from me.
“Are you insane? Do you even realize what you’re saying?”
“Where did these come from? I don’t know anything about this!”
The photos scattered on the floor, revealing intimate moments between him and Flora-
Vacationing together in another pack’s territory, holding each other, kissing, even sweaty and disheveled after training sessions.
Everything was laid bare for all to see.
Silan froze, staring at the evidence, utterly dumbfounded.
I looked at his pathetic state, feeling nothing but satisfaction as I spoke coldly.
“Do you remember the day you hunted down that rogue wolf with Flora White? That was our fifth mate anniversary.”
“I wanted to surprise you that night, but Flora’s pack bulletin post slapped me in the face instead.”
He looked up sharply as I continued, my voice slow and deliberate.
“I was carrying our pup, Silan. Did you know that?”
“I endured so much pain to have this child, despite your condition. But thanks to you, I lost it. You killed
it.”
He shook his head in disbelief; I could see his wolf visibly trembling within him.
“That’s impossible. The healers told me years ago that I’d never father another pup. How could you have been pregnant?”
After our daughter was born, Silan had fallen gravely ill, and the treatments had left him infertile.
When I unexpectedly became pregnant, it had felt like a miracle–a fleeting gift snatched away by his betrayal.
Chapter 7
I let out a bitter laugh, my voice icy as I delivered the final blow.
“You’re right. You’ll never have another pup again–because the only one you could have had was killed
by you.”
Silan collapsed to the floor and his wolf began howling in anguish. His arrogance and pride had been
shattered.
I didn’t spare him another glance.
I dropped the rejection papers on the table.
“Sign them. My pack council will be in touch.”
I wanted to walk away but I paused and slightly turned back to emphasize, “Oh, and just for emphasis sake, I, Laurel Taylor, reject you, Silan Grant, as my mate.”
I felt the sudden ache in my chest, as if half of my soul had left me, but I barely budged. I turned, and kept on walking out of the packhouse without looking back.
