---- daughter with the other. *"'To Sage and her daughter - May she know only love and protection. I'm sorry for everything. - D'* The gift box contained the Heart of the Ocean brooch -the same one worth millions that he'd planned to give me at our failed mating ceremony two years ago. But now it felt different. Not like a grand gesture or attempt to buy forgiveness, but like a final goodbye. "What is it?" Garrett asked, concern in his voice. "Something that belongs in the past," I said firmly. Without hesitation, I carried the entire box to the window and threw it out into the garden below. I watched it fall among the roses, the precious stone catching sunlight before disappearing among the petals. "Are you alright?" Garrett asked, wrapping his arms around me and our daughter. "More than alright," I said, meaning it completely. " ---- I'm free." Meanwhile, hundreds of miles away in the northern territories, Damon sat alone in his study, staring at his phone. He had been waiting for hours-hoping for any response to his gift. A thank you, a curse, even anger would have been better than this silence. But nothing came. His Beta knocked and entered without waiting for permission. "Alpha, the Ashen Peaks delegation is here for the territorial dispute meeting." Damon didn't look up from his phone. "Cancel it." "Sir, this is the third meeting you've canceled this week." "T said cancel it." His Beta hesitated. "Alpha, with respect, the pack is suffering. We need strong leadership-" ---- "Then find another Alpha," Damon said flatly. The Beta left, shaking his head in defeat. Damon reached for the whiskey bottle on his desk, his third one that day. The amber liquid burned down his throat, but it couldn't wash away the memories. Every day was the same now. He'd wake up at noon, already drunk from the night before, and stumble through his empty mansion calling my name. "Sage," he'd whisper to the walls. "Sage, come back." His Beta had stopped bringing him pack business weeks ago. Territory disputes went unresolved. Hunting quotas weren't met. Young wolves left for other packs daily. "Alpha, we need your signature on the trade agreements," his Beta would say. "Not now," Damon would slur. "I'm busy." Busy drinking. Busy staring at old photos of us. Busy writing letters he'd never send.