I fled losing my cub to the alpha mistress' drug

A dying flame and a lonely shadow bear the weight of bygone vows.

My claws clench the bond proof, heart thundering. Five years tied to Preston Vale-and today, the registry declares we were never bound. Joy turns to ice in my veins.

I fly to Argentia, storming his hotel.

A grand ceremony blazes in the hall-heralds chant Preston Vale's name, applause shaking the rafters. He wears traditional garb, smiling as he holds his mate.

I shove through the crowd, catching their intimate pose. Whispers slice me: "Preston's true bond. Bianca's just a placeholder."

Stumbling back, I collapse at the crowd's edge.

More voices ring: "He waited for Thalia to come of age-never filed a real bond."

"Five years, he's stayed -single." "Bianca meant nothing."

Through blurred eyes, I hear him murmur to Thalia: "You're the only soul I crave for eternity."

My phone vibrates.

His message glows: " mate, I ache for you. Returning on our bond day. Yours, Preston."

The same vow, spoken to two hearts.

Memories flash: him scaling the peak at eighteen, swearing "forever"; the thousand love scrolls stained with his essence; our grand bond ceremony-all a sham to bide time for Thalia's adulthood.

As guests disperse, I flee to an alley. Rain mixes with tears as I snarl:

"This false bond-done! Preston Vale, liar of oaths-done!"

Grasping my trunk, I stare at the stormy sky.

In two weeks, I'll visit my parents' shrine, then vanish-burying the fake bond proof with my past.

At the port, I call the healer's, voice shaking: "Schedule a termination."

Hanging up, tears spill.

My hand spasms around my passport-no hope for this broken tie.

Today, the homebound skyship carries me away from this lies.

I lift my chin, board the path to rebirth.

The healer's words echo:

"Miss Whitaker, your abdomen injury was grave. Conceiving is a miracle. Terminating may end your fertility."

Clutching the cub-check scroll, I learn he hid this.

When families pressed for cubs, he claimed "wanting more moonlit days with you." Now my heart splits: his "care" was to spare my pain.

Stumbling from the healer's , I collide with Preston and Thalia Redding.

He supports her from the scan room, worry in his eyes:

"Brother, don't fret-'tis a cub, not sickness."

"Of course I'm worried about you ,after all, it's our first kid."

She's called him "brother" since my high school days.

Watching them enter the lift, my core shatters: their visit celebrates her cub, while mine hangs in limbo.

I return to the healer, scheduling the termination: no cub of mine will born into deceit, fatherless from the start.

Dusk falls, and in the garage, I see them again.

Preston leads Thalia to the Rotating Diner-built for my last birthday. "Only you deserve this seat," he once vowed.

From the shadows, I watch Thalia in my place, desserts before her.

Preston presents a diamond necklace: "Congrats, my princess, on our cub."

My keys dig into my palm, tears fall. His "only love" belongs to another.