---- Chapter 11 LAURENCE POV: The council chamber was a pit of vipers. Ten pairs of ancient, unforgiving eyes were fixed on me, and my father's gaze was the most venomous of all. "You have brought shame upon the name Andrews," he said, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through the stone floor. "Because of your obsession with that Harris girl, you cast aside your true mate. A mate gifted to you by the Moon Goddess herself." My father's words were meant to wound, but they were nothing compared to the hollow cavern in my chest. The pack's financial instability, the whispers from other Alphas- none of it mattered as much as the silence where her presence used to be. Marcus, the oldest of the elders, rose to his feet, his back stiff with indignation. "The news of your formal rejection has spread. The Black Moon Pack is a joke. An Alpha who rejects his fated mate is seen as weak, cursed by the Goddess." Rejection. The word was a physical thing, a shard of silver twisting in my gut. | had signed that paper. | had said the words in my heart ---- a thousand times. But hearing it spoken aloud, knowing the entire world of our kind now knew... it was unbearable. | ended the meeting with a sharp command, my Alpha's Command, that forced them all into silence. | couldn't stand their judgment a second longer. That night, | walked the halls of the empty mansion. | went into our bedroom, her side of the bed cold and untouched. | buried my face in her pillows, desperately searching for a trace of her scent, that smell of rain and wild herbs. There was nothing. Only the faint, cloying scent of the expensive perfumes | had made her wear. The scents Rosalie liked. A wave of nausea hit me. The perfumes, the dresses, the tea -l had spent three years trying to turn Josie into a ghost of another woman, and now | was haunted by the ghost of her. The real her. My Mind-Link chimed. It was Rosalie. "Laurence, darling, | heard the council was difficult. Don't listen to them. You and | are meant to be." Her voice, once a soothing melody, now grated on my nerves like nails on a chalkboard. The connection felt thin, artificial, compared to the primal, severed tether that screamed in the back of my mind. "Leave me alone, Rosalie," | sent back, my tone colder than ice. ---- There was a shocked silence on her end. "What's wrong with you? Are you still thinking about that Omega bitch?" The insult hit me with surprising force. A protective snarl rumbled in my chest, an instinct | hadn't felt in years. "Don't you dare talk about her like that." "Oh, Goddess," she scoffed. "Don't tell me you've actually fallen for her." | opened my mouth to deny it, to unleash a torrent of angry words. But nothing came out. The truth was a stone in my throat, choking me. Was it love? Or was it the primal agony of my wolf, finally making its voice heard over my own foolish pride? | didn't know. But | knew | couldn't deny the gaping hole she'd left behind. | slammed the mental connection shut, leaving her screaming into the void. Alone in the dark, | went to the bar and poured a glass of whiskey. Then another. And another. But the alcohol did nothing to numb the pain. It couldn't fill the hole. The hole | had carved myself.