—- Damien shot to his feet. “I’m on my way.” He grabbed his jacket and headed for the door. “Nine a.m. tomorrow. Don’t be late,” he commanded without looking back. ”The ceremony will proceed on time.” The moment the door clicked shut, I let the silence settle. Then, I spoke the words into the empty room, each one a final, liberating vow. “T, Isla, reject you, Damien.” He was already gone. I waited until morning.
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Sitting at the dining table, I took out the calendar marked with the ceremony date. With a red pen, on today’s date, I wrote: The Bond is Rejected. Then I grabbed my suitcase and walked out of the place I had once called home. —- On the way to the airport, I sent a single text to the Head Elder. Initiate the Severing Ritual. The Mating Ceremony is canceled. By 9:30 a.m., my plane was in the air. Below me, the city-the pack, my past, him-shrank until it was swallowed by the clouds.
I pictured Damien in that moment. He would have arrived at the sacred altar by now. Dressed in his finest robes, waiting for his bride.
