---- Chapter 18 Damien POV: | stumbled back into the Alpha house late that night, my body aching and my soul feeling like a barren wasteland. The pack's assets were in freefall. My authority was crumbling. And Elara was gone. The house was dark and cold. A disgusting smell of stale food and garbage hit me the moment | walked in. The living room was a disaster, with empty food containers and discarded clothes strewn everywhere. Lyra was lounging on the sofa, scrolling through her phone. She didn't even look up when | came in. "I'm hungry," she announced. "Make me something to eat." | stared at her, then at the mess around her. An image of Elara flashed in my mind. Elara, always humming softly as she tidied up, her gentle scent making the whole house feel warm and safe. Elara, who would have a hot meal waiting for me, no matter how late | came home, her smile the only welcome | ever needed. She had learned to cook for me. My wolf was picky, easily agitated, and only certain foods, prepared with a mate's care, could soothe it. She spent months perfecting recipes, her brow furrowed in concentration, just to make me happy. And | had ---- taken it all for granted. | had never once cooked for her. The contrast between the two women was a physical blow. The regret was so sharp, so intense, it felt like my bones were grinding together. | pushed her away. Not physically, but with a wall of cold silence. | walked past her and into the kitchen. "Tomorrow," | said, my voice flat and dead, "we will register the pup. After that, we are done. | will have the Elders dissolve our connection." Lyra shot up from the sofa. "What?" Then the performance began. Tears welled in her eyes. "You can't do this to me," she sobbed. "Where will | go? What will happen to my baby?" She grabbed the pup from his bassinet, holding him like a shield. "You want us to go out into the forest? At night? To be torn apart by rogues?" | was so tired. So utterly exhausted by her endless drama. | didn't have the energy to argue, to see through the act. | just wanted quiet. "Fine," | bit out. "We'll talk about it later." She stopped crying instantly. "Good," she said, placing the pup back in his bassinet without a second glance. "Now, | want steak. Medium rare." | turned away from her, my hands gripping the cold marble ---- countertop. | opened the fridge and pulled out the ingredients, my movements stiff and robotic. For the first time in my life, | was cooking for someone other than myself. And it wasn't for my mate. It was for the woman who had destroyed my life.