"She already knows that." Daska's voice was thick.
"Does she?" I looked past him, to where she was crouching, chatting to some of the pups that had befriended her in her time with us. "Does she understand what the bond means? What it costs to let her go?"
"I think she's starting to."
The words should have been comforting. They weren't. They just made everything harder, knowing she might feel even a fraction of what I was feeling, might carry her own echo of this pain into whatever future awaited her.
"Then help her forget." I met his eyes again. "Give her new memories. Better ones. Ones that don't include a bond she never asked for."
Daska shook his head slowly. "I don't think it works like that, brother."
"Make it work."
He nodded slowly. "I'll do my best."
Silence fell between us, heavy with everything we weren't saying. Everything we didn't know how to say. The sun was climbing higher, preparations were nearly done. Soon they would leave.
Soon she would be gone.
"I should go," Daska said quietly. "Make sure everything's ready."
"Yes."
But neither of us moved.
Finally, Daska stepped forward one last time and gripped my forearm in the warrior's clasp, his hand strong and steady andsure. "You're the best man I've ever known, Rivik. I’m grateful to have you as my brother." His voice dropped to barely a whisper. "And I'm sorry. For all of it."
"Don't be. Safe travels, brother," I said.
"Safe keeping, Alpha." He held my gaze for one last moment. Then he turned and walked away. I stood alone by the dying fire and watched him go.
The valley stretched out below me and from this height, I could see the travellers winding slowly toward the narrow eastern pass that led beyond our territory. My chest tightened, a slow constriction that made breathing difficult. I forced air into my lungs, one measured breath at a time, and kept my body still. Completely still. If I moved, if I allowed even the smallest crack in my control, I didn't know what would happen.
The bond pulled.
It wasn't gentle. It wasn't the warm, steady presence I'd felt when she was near. This was sharp and raw, like something vital being torn loose from inside my chest. Every step she took away from me sent another jolt of wrongness through my body, my pulse erratic, my wolf snarling and clawing beneath my skin, instinct screaming at me tomove, tofollow, toclaim what was mine.
I didn't move.
An alpha does not break.
Below me, I could see pack members gathered near the edge of camp, watching the departure in respectful silence. Some had come to see them off with gifts and farewells. Others simply stood witness, honouring the strangers who had disruptedeverything and changed nothing and somehow meant more than any of us had expected.
I should be down there. Standing with them. Leading by example.
I couldn't.
If I stood among my people right now, they would see it. The fracture. The weakness. The alpha who couldn't hold onto what mattered most.
So I stayed on the ridge, alone, and watched her go. Daska too. I swallowed. We'd hunted together, fought together, bled together. I knew the sound of his laugh, the way he steadied younger warriors with a quiet word, the patience in his hands when he healed. I knew he would give his life for those he loved without hesitation.
I had watched him give his heart to Ellie and known that he would never be able to let her go, and because of that, he would never be allowed to stay. I had spent years studying the complications of pack politics under my father, knew the laws and the weaknesses, knew what, as alpha, I could and couldn’t do. It was often a precarious balance, and so often what was right and what was done were so far apart, it made me want to scream.
Ellie couldn’t stay. So neither could Daska. They both deserved a life together, full of love, and family, and belonging. I had to let them go. Out there, somewhere, Daska could give her all of that. I couldn't.
The bond pulsed again, sharper this time, and I gritted my teeth against the ache. My wolf spirit was in agony, pacing and snarling. It didn't understand duty. It didn't care about pack law or territorial threats or the hundred reasons why letting her go was the only choice that made sense.
It only knew loss.
