Chapter 3

With only two days left, Daniel pushed open my door. Ignoring my pale face, he demanded, "Give me the keys to the Bayview villa."

That was the house he had bought for me. It was also where he proposed.

I leaned against the headboard, motionless. "What do you need them for?"

He pulled at his tie impatiently, his face darkening. "Rachel is in a bad mood and wants to relax by the beach. I'm taking her and Jack there for two nights."

"She just returned and has nothing. As the Luna, can't you be generous enough to let her use the house for a few days?"

He wanted to take another woman to the place where he proposed to me, and he wanted me to hand over the keys myself.

I opened the drawer, pulled out the keys and the keycard, and tossed them onto the bed.

"Take them. You can use whatever is inside."

My easy compliance caught Daniel off guard. Holding the keys, he muttered defensively, "It's just a trip to help her clear her head."

I didn't reply. I turned away and texted Mr. Foster.

"Please prepare a declaration of severance as well. Send it to me as soon as possible."

Though I knew a mere piece of paper couldn't easily break the mate bond between Daniel and me, I still wanted to sever all ties.

Seeing me ignore him, Daniel scoffed, took the keys, and slammed the door.

By evening, I was in the kitchen brewing my heart medicine. The bitter, pungent scent made me cough uncontrollably.

In the living room, I could hear Rachel and Jack laughing as they packed.

Suddenly, a sharp gasp was followed by a heavy crash. Rachel had fallen down the last three steps of the stairs.

She sat on the floor, clutching her ankle, crying in pain.

Daniel rushed downstairs at the noise. He scooped Rachel into his arms, then glared fiercely at me as I walked out of the kitchen.

"Sarah! Look what you've done!"

"It was just a set of keys! How could you be malicious enough to push her down the stairs?"

My hand trembled, spilling a few drops of the boiling medicine onto my skin, burning it red.

"I’ve been in the kitchen the whole time. I didn't go near the stairs."

Rachel clung to Daniel, crying and shaking her head.

"Daniel, don't blame Sarah. I just lost my footing. Maybe she just bumped into me when she walked past."

Daniel snapped. He lunged forward and kicked the bowl out of my hands.

The ceramic shattered on the floor, splashing the hot medicine I had spent three hours brewing all over the ground, soaking my pants.

Looking at the mess, the agony in my chest flared up again, robbing me of the strength to stand.

My knees hit the floor. I reached out with trembling hands to salvage whatever medicine was left in the broken shards.

Just as my fingers touched the liquid, Jack stepped heavily onto the back of my hand, grinding his shoe down.

He glared at me, his young face filled with disgust.

"You evil woman! Not only do you bully Aunt Rachel, but you also brew this stinky garbage at home."

"I don't want a mom like you. You embarrass me!"

My knuckles throbbed with pain as the broken ceramic sliced into my skin.

Hearing my own son say those words, I didn't cry. My eyes didn't even water.

I slowly pulled my bloody hand away. Looking at the clear shoe print on my skin, I smiled.

I smiled at how my eight years of devotion had ended in this.

My smile only deepened Daniel’s disgust. He carried Rachel and walked out without looking back.

"Let's go, Jack. We'll take Aunt Rachel to the clinic. Let this crazy woman stay here and think about what she's done."

As the three of them left, thunder rumbled outside. Within minutes, a torrential rain began to pour.

Suddenly, all the lights in the villa flickered and died, plunging the house into darkness.

The spasms in my chest turned into a continuous, sharp pain. I shivered and pulled out my phone, only to find the battery had died.

My inner wolf was too weak to even establish a mind link.

I had to crawl toward the landline phone in the living room. It was only a few yards, but it took me twenty minutes.

When I finally reached the receiver and pressed it to my ear, there was only silence.

I ran my fingers down the cord and felt a clean, smooth cut. The phone line had been cut.

Jack had been playing with his craft scissors before they left. My own son had cut off his mother's last lifeline.

The excruciating pain swallowed me whole. I curled up on the cold floor, my consciousness slipping away.

I didn't even have the strength to breathe. I could only lie in the dark, waiting.

Hours passed. The rain stopped, and the pale light of dawn crept through the window. In the distance, the faint wail of a clinic siren echoed.