He Rejected Marking Ceremony, I Upgraded Mate

Accompanying the roar was the crushing weight of an Alpha’s Command. Ethan unleashed his spiritual pressure without holding anything back.

The force hit my chest like a sledgehammer. I couldn’t even put up a defense before I was blasted backward, my body flung like a kite with a cut string, smashing directly into the solid oak staircase.

Bang.

My spine collided with the sharp edge of the steps. A sweet, metallic taste surged up my throat, and I spat out a mouthful of blood.

Ethan didn't stop. He stood at the top of the stairs, cradling the "unconscious" Ivy, looking down at me with unmasked disgust.

"How can you be so venomous? Ivy is a fragile Omega—your power could have killed her!"

"It makes me sick just breathing the same air as you."

I wiped the blood from the corner of my lips. My insides felt like they had been rearranged, screaming in agony. I didn't try to explain. I just looked at him cold, dead eyes.

"If I make you sick, then I have good news."

"I’ll file a formal request with the Council for Severance. I’ll clear out and leave this place for good."

Ethan paused, clearly surprised that I was the one bringing up leaving the pack. But the shock quickly turned into a sneer.

"You better keep your word. Don't be like last time—running to the border only to come crawling back in tears."

With that, he didn't spare me another glance. He turned and rushed Ivy to the infirmary, his back turned to me in finality.

I slumped against the cold floor, looking at the mess around me. For some reason, my mind drifted back twenty years.

We had just gone through our first shift.

During our first hunting trial, I had been reckless, chasing glory, and got cornered by a mutated grizzly bear.

It was Ethan who had charged in without hesitation. He used his small, juvenile wolf body to take a fatal claw strike meant for me.

Back then, covered in blood, he had comforted me: "Don't be scared, Selena. As long as I’m alive, no one will ever hurt you."

But now? That boy who swore to protect me was dead. In his place stood a man who used his Alpha Command to crush my internal organs for the sake of another woman.

I tried to stand, but the pain made me stumble.

Letting out a self-deprecating laugh, I leaned against the wall and inched my way out of the villa.

I didn't go to the Pack Hospital. That place was crawling with Ethan’s spies.

Dragging my broken body, I went to the underground black market, to an unlicensed clinic run by a Rogue witch doctor.

The doctor inspected my injuries and whistled. "Ruthless. He was aiming for your Wolf’s Essence. If you’d come thirty minutes later, your S-rank strength would have been permanently crippled."

I lay on a musty cot for two days.

On the third day, I returned to the villa.

I waited until Ethan was in a Council meeting. I didn't pack any clothes or jewelry. Instead, I took my tactical daggers, the strategic defense maps I had drawn over the years, and the black card containing all my bounty earnings.

I moved everything to a safe house I had rented in the black market—a place shielded from tracking signals.

Five days. That’s all I needed. Once the emissary from the Winterborn Pack arrived and I signed the Blood Pact, I would cut ties with the Silver Moon Pack forever.

Night fell on the third day.

I was cleaning the blood grooves of my dagger when my phone rang. It was a number I didn't recognize—the one I had blocked was obviously no longer working for him.

I picked up. The background noise was heavy metal music and the howling of drunk wolves. He was at a club.

Ethan’s voice was slurred with alcohol and thick with his usual entitlement.

"Where are you? Get your ass to the Full Moon Club."

I frowned, continuing to polish the blade. "Ethan, we’re done. I have nothing to say to you."

There was a second of silence on the line, followed by the clinking of glass. Ethan sounded agitated, clearly provoked by my indifference.

"Done? Selena, are you finished playing hard to get?"

"Ivy has a scar from the burn. Regular medicine isn't working."

"You’re a Healer-Warrior. Your blood and energy can remove scars. Get over here and heal her. Now."

Listening to his righteous demands, I stared at my own cold reflection in the steel of the blade.

He hadn't called because he noticed I was missing. He called because his precious darling needed my blood as an ointment.

"I told you, I moved out," I said calmly. "Besides, my blood is expensive. She can't afford it."

Ethan’s breathing grew heavy. I could feel his rage vibrating through the speaker.

"Moved out? You're addicted to running away from home, aren't you?"

"Fine! If you have so much backbone, then get the hell out of Silver Moon territory! Go become a Rogue! Let everyone hunt you down!"

"And don't expect me to collect your corpse when you die out there!"

"If you don't get back here and fix Ivy's skin, don't you ever dream of having a Marking Ceremony with me!"

I glanced at the packed tactical bag on the table and the Winterborn entry contract beside it.

The corner of my mouth hooked into a mocking smile.

"Deal, Ethan."

"I'll get lost. Far away. I promise I won't be an eyesore for you two anymore."

Before he could react, I hung up.

I pulled the SIM card out of the phone and dropped it into a glass of high-proof spirits in front of me.

Fizz.

The chip fried instantly.

Just like the last remaining shred of love I had for him. Gone up in smoke.