The gathering erupts. Multiple Llewelyn wolves speak at once, their voices overlapping in a chaos of denial and confusion. Maude pushes to the front of the crowd.
“This is absurd. Our way of life doesn’t need fixing by outsiders who don’t understand our values.”
Sera’s voice carries over the noise. “It’s not about fixing your values. It’s about freeing you from magic that’s been suppressing your ability to choose what you value in the first place. The curse makes you think emotional distance is strength. It’s not. It’s a cage.”
Thora Silvermane steps forward, her face twisted with anger. “You’re betraying everything Llewelyn stands for by submitting to a mate bond with this Grayhide wolf. By claiming we need rescue from our own traditions.”
“I’m claiming you deserve the right to feel everything without magical interference. To choose whether you want connection or solitude, passion or peace. The curse takes that choice away.” Sera’s grip on my hand becomes almost painful. “I’m breaking it so future generations can actually choose their own paths.”
“And if we don’t want it broken?” Thora demands. “If we’re content with our lives as they are?”
“Then you’re content living as shells of what you could be. Content letting fear of feeling control your entire existence.” Sera’s voice breaks as she adds, “I’m not content with that. Not anymore.”
She looks at her mother, at Thora, at the other Llewelyn women who stand with arms crossed and faces closed. I feel her grief through the bond—grief for what could have happened if things had gone differently.
"If I had told you about the vision before I left, before I had evidence. Before I had allies. You would have stopped me. You would’ve convinced yourselves you were protecting me while the curse used your love as a weapon to keep itself alive."
Maude's face goes pale. "That's not—"
"It is." Sera's voice doesn't waver. "The curse would have used your love against us all. Against every woman who comes after us. And you wouldn't have known. You would have believed you were saving me right up until the moment you destroyed our only chance at freedom."
The words land like stones in still water. Several Llewelyn women look stricken. Others appear angry. But a few—including Caelan—nod slowly, understanding dawning on their faces.
Caelan moves through the crowd to stand beside her sister. “I want to know what she’s describing. I want to feel things without the dampening effect I’ve noticed my whole life. If there’s more than this muted existence we’ve accepted as normal, I deserve the chance to experience it.”
Other Llewelyn women voice their agreement. Not all of them, but enough. The delegation fractures into those who believe and those who insist their emotional reserve is cultural pride rather than magical binding.
Lydia raises one hand, and silence falls. “Sera. Is breaking this curse why you agreed to this mating?”
“Partly. But not entirely.” Sera looks at me, and something in her eyes makes something behind my sternum ache. “The mate bond is real. What I feel for Reeyan is real. And I’m choosing him despite the curse, trying to convince me that needing someone makes me weak.”
“Then we proceed.” Lydia steps back. “Evangeline, begin the ceremony.”
The Hysopp witch moves to the center of the ritual space. Power radiates from her so strongly that I can feel it against my skin. She begins speaking in a language I don’t understand, and the air around us seems to thicken with magic.
I try to focus on Sera rather than the hostile scents growing stronger at the borders. Try to remember that we’re here for her, for her pack, to break a curse that’s stolen three hundred years of freedom.
But my wolf remains alert. Waiting. Knowing that any moment now, everything could fall apart.
Evangeline’s voice rises, and the ceremony begins.
Chapter 23 - Sera
The words tear out of my throat like broken glass.
“I, Sera Thornwick, accept this bond willingly and completely.” Each syllable fights me. The curse wraps tighter around my lungs, squeezing until I can barely breathe. “I choose connection over isolation. I choose trust over fear.”
My wolf snarls inside me, shoving against the magical bindings with everything she has. Three hundred years of suppression push back, trying to stop me from speaking these vows. Trying to keep me locked in the safe, controlled distance that’s defined every Llewelyn woman since Moira Ashwood wove her revenge into our bloodline.
“I choose Reeyan Hale as my mate. Now and always.”
The curse screams. I feel it rip at my insides, desperate and furious that I’m defying its purpose. My knees buckle, but Reeyan catches me before I fall. His hands are steady on my arms, green eyes locked on mine with such certainty that something in my chest loosens despite the pain.
But the curse isn't finished.
Cold spreads through my veins like poison. My vision darkens at the edges, and I hear my wolf's howl grow distant, muffled, as if she's being dragged away from me down a long tunnel. The binding magic fights back with everything it has, three hundred years of accumulated power refusing to die quietly.
"Sera!" Reeyan's voice sounds far away. "Stay with me. Don't let it pull you under."
