Reborn To Escape The Cruel Mate

The day after I got back, I took care of three things.

First, I canceled Julian's death record, restoring our bond as if it'd never been broken. Second, I changed my name, my identity, and set up a move abroad. Third, I hired a fake-death agency, scheduling it for fourteen days from now-the same day as my binding ceremony with Victor.

I'm cutting ties the cleanest way I know how.

Leaving the agency, my phone pinged with international news. A video of Victor other packs, helping Ivy break her bond. He'd crippled her cheating mate, bankrupted his family, and funneled all their wealth to her. By the time I finished watching, the video and every related post vanished. Victor's way of shielding her.

I couldn't help but remember the banquet after my bungee stunt. Still weak from the healer's care, I stood by Victor as pack wolves mocked me, calling me a pathetic pup begging for his scraps. He just sat there, watching the show. Later, he snapped at me, "If you can't handle this, don't come out with me. You're embarrassing."

Of course. I was never Ivy.

Back home, I started packing. I'd moved in hoping to guard that heart forever, bringing every piece of Julian with me. Now, I boxed it all up, shipping it to my new villa abroad. All that was left were some clothes, photos with Victor, a journal of his preferences, and stacks of books on heart conditions. I tossed them into a fire pit in the yard, watching them burn to ash.

"What're you burning?" Victor's voice came from behind, rough with a cough.

I didn't turn. "Nothing. Just junk."

I doused the flames and dumped the ashes in the trash. As I moved to leave, he blocked my path, a rare hint of frustration in his eyes. "Still mad I left you on the mountain? You know Ivy's important to me. She was hurt, abused. I couldn't just sit there."

I kept my voice even. "Sure. Anything else? I'm heading out."

I'd always been soft with him, always yielding. This coldness was new, and it threw him. He reached for my arm, about to ask something, when Ivy appeared, sliding close to him. "You must be Brooke," she said, her smile warm but her stance possessive. "Victor's told me about you."

She leaned into him, staking her claim. I frowned. I was over Victor, but her blatant challenge grated on me.

Before I could respond, Ivy's eyes welled up. "Victor, I don't think Brooke likes me. Maybe I should just go."

She turned to leave, but Victor grabbed her. "This is Harrington territory. No one's chasing you out." He shot me a hard look. "Ivy's just become unbound, Brooke. She's vulnerable. No need to take it out on her."

I almost laughed. I hadn't said a word, and he was already convicting me. Whatever warmth I'd once felt for him-because of that heart-was gone.

I smiled faintly. "Sure. The main bedroom on the third floor's got the best view. Why don't you move Ivy in there?"

The day after I got back, I took care of three things.

First, I canceled Julian's death record, restoring our bond as if it'd never been broken. Second, I changed my name, my identity, and set up a move abroad. Third, I hired a fake-death agency, scheduling it for fourteen days from now-the same day as my binding ceremony with Victor.

I'm cutting ties the cleanest way I know how.

Leaving the agency, my phone pinged with international news. A video of Victor other packs, helping Ivy break her bond. He'd crippled her cheating mate, bankrupted his family, and funneled all their wealth to her. By the time I finished watching, the video and every related post vanished. Victor's way of shielding her.

I couldn't help but remember the banquet after my bungee stunt. Still weak from the healer's care, I stood by Victor as pack wolves mocked me, calling me a pathetic pup begging for his scraps. He just sat there, watching the show. Later, he snapped at me, "If you can't handle this, don't come out with me. You're embarrassing."

Of course. I was never Ivy.

Back home, I started packing. I'd moved in hoping to guard that heart forever, bringing every piece of Julian with me. Now, I boxed it all up, shipping it to my new villa abroad. All that was left were some clothes, photos with Victor, a journal of his preferences, and stacks of books on heart conditions. I tossed them into a fire pit in the yard, watching them burn to ash.

"What're you burning?" Victor's voice came from behind, rough with a cough.

I didn't turn. "Nothing. Just junk."

I doused the flames and dumped the ashes in the trash. As I moved to leave, he blocked my path, a rare hint of frustration in his eyes. "Still mad I left you on the mountain? You know Ivy's important to me. She was hurt, abused. I couldn't just sit there."

I kept my voice even. "Sure. Anything else? I'm heading out."

I'd always been soft with him, always yielding. This coldness was new, and it threw him. He reached for my arm, about to ask something, when Ivy appeared, sliding close to him. "You must be Brooke," she said, her smile warm but her stance possessive. "Victor's told me about you."

She leaned into him, staking her claim. I frowned. I was over Victor, but her blatant challenge grated on me.

Before I could respond, Ivy's eyes welled up. "Victor, I don't think Brooke likes me. Maybe I should just go."

She turned to leave, but Victor grabbed her. "This is Harrington territory. No one's chasing you out." He shot me a hard look. "Ivy's just become unbound, Brooke. She's vulnerable. No need to take it out on her."

I almost laughed. I hadn't said a word, and he was already convicting me. Whatever warmth I'd once felt for him-because of that heart-was gone.

I smiled faintly. "Sure. The main bedroom on the third floor's got the best view. Why don't you move Ivy in there?"