For two years, Ezra had refused to change his ways, resulting in broken promises and shattered trust.
Could three days really be enough for such an epiphany? Three days to reverse three years of deliberate decisions?
I shook my head and smiled bitterly, strangely calm; the storm of emotions I had expected was no longer present.
“Ezra, over the past two years, I gave you exactly thirty-three chances.”
His eyes widened slightly at the precise number; he hadn’t realised I was counting.
“Ten mating ceremonies,” I added. “Fifteen times I confronted you about Alexa. Eight times, I threatened to leave.
I kept my voice steady, refusing to tremble: “If you had ever truly wanted to change, even once, we wouldn’t be here now.”
I met his gaze steadily, no longer intimidated by the Alpha presence he radiated like a shield. “If you really care about me, then give me a path that belongs to me alone.”
Ezra’s body trembled visibly, and his usual confidence crumbled completely.
He understood why he had never valued the chances.
I’d given him before, and he’d always thought his opportunities were limitless—that I was an infinite resource he could use whenever he wanted.
Perhaps someday, when he was tired of playing and wanted to return to domestic life, all he had to do was hold a wedding ceremony. He assumed I would always be there, loyal until death, never abandoning him.
“I’ll change,” he whispered, in a last desperate gambit, “and announce you as my mate today. We can host the ceremony this weekend. I have already made arrangements.”
I shook my head again: “More promises.”
If that had happened—if I had accepted his last-minute conversion—would I still be his wife in any meaningful way?
I would have become a puppet for him to manipulate, a permanent appendage at his side, never having my own rights as a person, a victory trophy he could show off when convenient and ignore when not.
“The choice before you now is simple,” I said gently, surprised by the genuine compassion I still felt for him despite everything. “Why struggle with this any longer?””
I pointed to the council doors and said, “For the sake of our future happiness—separately—let’s end this.”
Ezra remained silent for a long time, his gaze fixed on the marble floor; eventually, tears of regret streamed silently down his cheeks.
“I really did love you,” he said quietly, almost inaudible. “In my own way.”
“I know,” I admitted honestly, “but your way of loving hurts too much.”
With a trembling hand, he signed his name on the documents Elder Lucian presented, his usual flourish missing; the signature was small and uncertain, like a child’s.
I added my own name alongside his, the letters firm and clear.
I smiled, relieved: “Freedom for me and for you.”
I had signed many documents on Ezra’s behalf over the years, such as contracts, treaties, and pack agreements, but they had all been routine and without emotion.
As we entered the council chamber for the final ritual, I could feel the fresh air seeping into my lungs.
The ceremony itself was brief, almost anticlimactic in light of everything we’d been through.
When the dissolution certificate was placed in my hands, a tingling sensation spread throughout my body, and the last threads of our bond dissolved like morning mist, leaving only a faint memory of connection.
My wolf, long suppressed by the pain of rejection, awoke inside me, alert and alive.
I’d struggled for so long in a world dominated by Ezra.
