Chapter 2

• Dallas’s POV
• “Dallas, you finally came to your senses!”
• Lyria’s voice trembled through the speaker, and I could hear the faint, nervous clicking of her claws against the desk. My brilliant senior from the Helix Dominion—one of the sharpest design wolves in the Western Territory—had watched me waste five years in the Bloodfang Pack, hiding as a nameless Omega, all because of Damian.
• She knew what I had sacrificed for him, including the piece of myself the Moonmender had demanded as payment to pull Damian back from death after the crash five years ago.
• The voice that escaped me now was scraped raw. Hollow.
• “Dallas… did Damian hurt you?”
• Just hearing his name made my breath catch. A small, helpless whimper slipped out before I could clamp it down.
• Serena stirred inside me, her presence tender but alert.
• “You don’t need to explain. A wolf knows when her heart has been struck.”
• Lyria didn’t say the words Damian is a bastard, but the weight of her rage and helplessness traveled through the line.
• “Get your papers in order and come to the Western Territory. A she-wolf needs her own power. Her own light. The Helix Dominion’s training program is a rare honor. With your talent, you will outshine anything Bloodfang ever allowed you to be. This is what you were born for.”
• Her certainty steadied me.
• “I’ll prepare everything. I’ll head to the Western Territory once the papers clear.”
• “Good. I’ll be waiting.”
• The call ended. Only then did I realize how violent the night had become outside. Rain hammered the windows, and wind rattled the Frostclaw paper-crane chime in the living room.
• That wind chime… I had folded every crane during Damian’s coma, one each night, praying to the Moon Goddess for his return. After he recovered, he’d had them forged into silver and moonstone as a tribute to our love.
• Looking at it now, it felt like mockery.
• Serena’s voice brushed my thoughts.
• “You prayed for him with a whole heart. He never deserved it.”
• I reached up to tear it down, but my elbow struck the bar counter instead. A framed photo crashed to the floor, glass scattering.
• It wasn’t just one photo. Two had fallen.
• Frowning, I picked them up.
• The first was harmless—Damian and me, taken the day we became mates-in-waiting.
• The second—
• My vision blurred.
• It showed Eveline. Damian stood behind her, arms around her waist, his gaze soft in a way he had never once looked at me.
• Below the image, in his sweeping script:
• “Goodbye, My Love.”
• The timestamp?
• The night after he survived the crash.
• Seven hours before he came to my door with roses and said, “Dallas, be mine.”
• My fingers tightened until the frame creaked. Every moment of tenderness he’d ever shown me splintered like ice cracking underfoot.
• Serena whispered, her voice steadying me with cold clarity.
• “He chose her first. You were the second life he built because the first one slipped away.”
• A sound tore from my throat—part sob, part growl. I ripped the chime from the ceiling, and the silver cranes scattered across the floor like fallen bones.
• My phone chimed.
• A message from Lyria: the official Helix Dominion training invitation.
• I wiped my face, shoved my belongings into a bag, grabbed my documents, and called a sky-taxi to the Immigrations Hall.
• The clerks skimmed my papers and nodded.
• “Miss Dallas Ashforde, your travel visa will be ready in about ten days. We’ll notify you when it’s approved.”
• “Thank you.”
• When I stepped outside, Damian’s name flashed across my screen.
• “Dallas, something urgent came up in the Bloodfang Pack. I may not return tonight.”
• He hung up before I could speak.
• Five seconds later, WeClaw chimed again.
• A video.
• Two, actually.
• The first: Eveline and Damian holding crimson marriage scrolls—the official Luna-Seal certificates—kissing under Bloodfang banners.
• Dated yesterday.
• The second: Damian kneeling with a ring.
• Not just any ring.
• The ring I designed for my future mating ceremony. He had promised to place it on my hand on our five-year anniversary.
• Now he slid it onto Eveline’s finger.
• Timestamp: five minutes before he called me.
• Serena’s growl rolled low.
• “He didn’t even wait for your heartbeat to steady.”
• A thin, humorless laugh escaped me.
• Another voice message appeared, Eveline’s tone thick with venom.
• “Dallas, Damian is my legal husband under Pack Law. Stay away. If you don’t, your punishment will be worse than the Frostclaw underground cells.”
• I exhaled. “I’m not interested in being anyone’s mistress.”
• Then I blocked her.
• The moment Damian chose Eveline, when he sealed the Luna Mark with her, our paths ended. No words could change that.
• Ten more days. Then I’d leave the Bloodfang Territory forever.
• Serena pressed firmly against my thoughts.
• “We walk away. Not with fear—only with truth.”
• I took a taxi home, bought a stack of cardboard boxes, and carried them upstairs.
• Anything connected to Damian went into those boxes. Clothes, gifts, keepsakes, memories. I dumped them into the garbage bins behind the building. Only the expensive jewelry stayed; practicality survived even heartbreak.
• By the time I finished, it was late. Exhaustion dulled the grief. I showered and slept without dreams.
• The next morning, I locked the valuable jewelry in a bank vault and told the teller:
• “In ten days, deliver this key to Alpha Damian Ravenwood.”
• Then I went home to pack.
• That was when Damian returned.
• He paused at the doorway, sniffing the air, unsettled.
• “Dallas… is the house missing something?”
• “I threw out some things I won’t need. I’ll replace them later.”
• He shrugged. “If you find something you want, tell me. My steward will handle it.”
• He dropped his coat on the sofa and reached for the design sketches on the table.
• “The Eternal Devotion jewel series launches tomorrow. Come with me. You should be there.”
• My hands stilled.
• I had worked in the Bloodfang treasury for three years and designed half their most successful lines. Yet Damian had never once invited me to a launch.
• Only he knew that I—the Omega he kept tucked away—was the anonymous designer “Sunny.”
• He was extending this invitation now out of guilt.
• I breathed evenly. “All right.”
• If I was leaving, I could at least reclaim the recognition that belonged to me.
• My phone buzzed on the bed. A row of unfamiliar international numbers appeared.
• Damian’s eyes narrowed.
• “Dallas… why are you communicating with wolves from abroad?”