Relief flooded through me, warm and dizzying. The doubts, the distance, the gnawing feeling that something was wrong—it had all been in my head. He was here. He was doing this.
I smiled, blinking back the sudden sting of tears.
Nathan leaned back in his chair, perfectly composed, and looked between Dad and me. "I've decided to announce my mating ceremony tonight at the ball."
The relief that had been building in my chest crystallized into something bright and hopeful. I felt my smile widen, felt the tension in my shoulders finally release. He was doing it. He was announcing us.
"Eleanor," Nathan continued, and something in his tone made me look up sharply.
His expression hadn't changed. Still calm, still controlled. But there was something in his eyes—a coolness that made my skin prickle with sudden unease.
"I wanted you to hear this from me first, rather than at the ball itself. I'll be mating Megan in the spring."
Everything stopped.
I stared at him, the words not landing, not making sense.Megan.He'd said Megan.
"I'm sorry?" My voice sounded far away, like it belonged to someone else. "I don't—"
"It's for the best," Nathan said, his tone maddeningly even. "For everyone involved."
The room tilted. I gripped the back of the nearest chair, my fingers digging into the velvet upholstery hard enough that my knuckles went white. This wasn't happening. This couldn't be happening.
Nathan's expression remained carefully neutral. "I know this comes as a surprise. But Megan and I have been working closely together for years now, and we've developed a bond that—"
"A bond." The word tasted bitter on my tongue. I couldn't seem to process what he was saying. The room felt too small suddenly, the air too thick. "We have a bond. You told me—you said we were fated—"
"We are fated," he said calmly, as if he were discussing stock portfolios rather than destroying my entire world. "That hasn't changed. But fate doesn't always mean compatibility, Eleanor. You and I—we're not suited to each other. Not in the ways that matter."
My father was saying something, his voice rising in what might have been protest or just surprise, but I couldn't hear him over the rushing in my ears. The room was spinning, tilting on an axis I hadn't known existed. Behind Nathan, Megan had turned from the window, watching me with something that might have been pity if her expression hadn't been quite so carefully blank.
"I don't understand," I whispered.
"I think you do. You're a sweet girl, Eleanor, but you're not suited to be a Luna. I need a mate who understands my world," Nathan continued, as if he were explaining a business decision. Which, I realized with dawning horror, was exactly what this was to him. "Someone who can navigate the political landscape, who has the connections and experience necessary to support my position. Megan is strong, capable, a natural leader. She's a full-blooded wolf shifter. She's—"
"Your fated mate."
"No. You are. Or were, technically. But fated bonds can be rejected. And I’m afraid I am rejecting you as my mate."
The words hit me like a physical blow.
I felt it then—the bond between us, that golden thread I'd felt humming beneath my skin since the moment we'd met,beginning to fray. It pulled taut, stretching thin, and then something inside my chesttore.
The pain was immediate and excruciating.
I gasped, doubling over, my hand flying to my sternum as if I could hold the pieces of myself together through sheer force of will. It felt sharp, visceral, unlike anything I'd ever felt. Not metaphorical heartbreak but actual, searing agony that radiated outward from the center of my ribcage like someone had reached inside and started tearing pieces away. I couldn't breathe. Couldn't think past the white-hot agony spreading through every nerve ending. My knees buckled, and I went down hard, my hands slamming against the carpet. Something vital was being ripped out of me, my ribs cracking open, everything inside spilling out, tearing, breaking—
"Eleanor?" My father's voice came from somewhere far away.
"She's fine. It's just the bond breaking. It'll pass."
It'll pass.Like this was nothing. Like I was nothing.
"Stop making a scene. You should have known this was coming. We were never evenly matched."
I looked up at him through tears, shaking so hard I thought I might break apart. "Why?"
"Why what?"
