Voices rise and movement stirs at the edge of the stage—bodies shifting as Cathal’s men close ranks. I can’t see the other Alpha’s face anymore, can only hear his growl cut through the noise, low and defensive. For a fleeting second, I think they’regoing to rush Rennick, and dread knots deep in my gut at the thought of them all moving against him.
But then I see them…
Witches.
As if they’d been waiting for some kind of unspoken signal from Rennick, coven members—led by Amara herself—unveil themselves, emerging from shadows crafted from magic. A glamour crafted by an illusionist. They move with choreographed grace, gliding into the budding chaos as though they’ve been rehearsing just for this moment. In one seamless motion, they encircle Cathal and his guards.
The air suddenly snaps, sharp and alive with power, and I know it’s Amara’s doing before I even see her hands rise. It twists about like a contained storm until wind and magic braid together and create something solid around McNamara and his snarling goons. A cage. With impenetrable walls.
Not only are they stuck there until Amara releases them, but the Canadian Alpha’s fury and displeasure are muted, barely audible through the partitions made of wind. Cathal’s not going to be able to stop or object to whatever is about to happen. The other McNamara wolves in attendance start to move, a few brave—or stupid—souls edging closer like they plan to interfere. That bravado evaporates the moment the coven locks onto them and shifts into defensive positions. The visiting wolves freeze where they stand, no doubt worried they’ll end up hexed into toads or something.
But that was Rennick’s plan all along, wasn’t it?
All of this, down to the coven’s assistance and putting precautions in place to corral Cathal, Rennick thought it all through.Is this what he meant when he said he had a plan? The one he begged me to trust blindly in but I had refused because the scars carved by the claws of his previous betrayal had still been too fresh?
I can’t move. Can barely blink. Heat and cold flood me all at once, adrenaline clashing with something fragile, softer—two forces warring for space in my chest.
Rennick faces his pack again, his voice rolling through the room like thunder. “You deserve better than an Alpha who would throw away something as sacred as his Goddess-given mate. A man who would sacrifice his omega instead of sacrificing everythingforher is not a man worth following. And that’s not the kind of Alpha I’m willing to be. Not anymore.”
Silence stretches between his confession and the next breath, thick and unmoving, as if the room itself is holding its breath.Or, fuck, maybe that’s just me. “I came to this truth too late. I know that now. But I’m trying to make it right. And I can only pray I’m not too late for that too, that she hasn’t given up on me yet.”
The last line hits like a heartbeat that isn’t mine, throwing off the rhythm I’ve been fighting and failing to keep steady.
He turns back to Talis, and the mask he’s worn for months—the one built out of obligation and duty—splinters. The tolerance he once forced himself to show her is gone. Every trace of civility burns away until all that remains is contempt so sharp it gleams like a blade in the sunlight.
“I allowed you to stand beside me while I destroyed what was mine. I allowed you to take part in it. But this—” He gestures to the stage, to the room, to the farce of their engagement, toher. “—this is what I should have rejected from the start. So, I’ll do it now.” His voice deepens, steady and absolute. “I, Rennick Fallamhain, Alpha of the Fallamhain Pack, reject you, Talis McNamara, as my betrothed mate. You will never bear the title of my Luna. You will never wear my mark. And you will never carry my children. From this moment forward, I renounce any claim you have on me.”
For a heartbeat, nothing moves. Nobody breathes.
Then the room comes alive in a rush of sound. Some guests cheer, clapping, shouting their approval like they’ve been waiting for this moment. Others protest, voices harsh with anger and disbelief. The two currents crash together, joy and fury colliding until the noise turns into a single, roaring storm.
And me? I’m still gripping Seren’s and Siggy’s hands like I’ll fall without their support, my heart pounding in time with the chaos, as I try to process what’s just happened.
What he’s just done.
For me.
Chapter 25
Rennick
When Talis jerks against my grip, I let her go. Happily.
There’s no hesitation, no second thought, only the clean release of a weight I’ve been carrying for far too long. Her wrist slips from my hand, and with it goes the last thread of this farce. I’ve been waiting for this moment—for the freedom of it, for the finality of it—to finally watch her walk away knowing she no longer holds any claim on me.
This is what I’d been fixated on—seeing the realization break across her face when she understood I’d turned the tables. That she was the one being made a spectacle of this time.Cathal wanted me to humiliate Noa when I rejected her, by ripping the bond from her chest while others watched. Today, I returned the favor in kind for Talis. The public shame. The degradation. All of it.
Noa would never lift a hand in revenge; she’s too merciful for that. She’s meant for gentleness, for healing, and I’m meant to protect her. In any way necessary. Witnessing Talis stumble away, stripped of the smug certainty she wore like cheap perfume, tastes like dark satisfaction and sweet victory.
Almost as sweet as the words themselves, the ones I’d waited too long to finally let free.“I, Rennick Fallamhain, Alpha of the Fallamhain Pack, reject you, Talis McNamara, as my betrothed mate.”
The first time I spoke those words, standing in the clearing with Noa before me, they were a death sentence. They’d tasted like iron, like poison, and I could feel them corroding everythinggood inside me as they tore their way out. I’ve replayed that moment more times than I can count, wishing I could reach into the memory and choke those cursed words down—spare her the ruin they caused.
But getting to speak them again, this time to Talis, they taste like clean air after choking on ash. They’re liberation in its purest form.
Since the day I agreed to Cathal’s terms, I’ve been dragging around that decision like a chain around my neck. The burden of it never lifted. It sank into everything—my sleep, my thoughts, the way I carried myself in my own territory. Shackles, that’s what it was. Now, for the first time in months, the suffocating weight is gone. My lungs expand easier, and I feel lighter. Clean in a way I barely remember feeling.
There’s only one woman in this world who has ever truly held a claim to me. One woman I belong to in every way that matters. My mate. My North Star. My salvation. Noa.
