Chapter 6

Freya

I turned slowly, my eyes falling to the document he'd placed on the coffee table—the mark dissolution contract.

My heart sank like a stone. My wolf spirit flinched, a sharp pain shooting through our marking bond. I couldn't help the way my body jerked slightly.

"What?" I managed to say, my voice barely a whisper.

"This mark dissolution contract," Paxton said, tapping the paper with one long finger. "Why haven't you signed it yet?"

I moved back to the center of the room on legs that felt disconnected from my body. There was no escaping this, was there? What was meant to come would come. I picked up the pen he'd left beside the contract, its weight seeming to increase with every inch I moved it toward the signature line.

"I'll sign it now," I said, forcing steadiness into my voice.

The pen hovered above the paper. I could feel our marking bond straining, ready to shatter. The connection that had defined me for five years—however one-sided and cold—was pulling apart at the seams. My wolf whimpered as tremors ran through the weakening bond.

My hand felt impossibly heavy as I lowered it to the paper. The ink flowed, spelling out my signature—my consent to end everything between us.

"Here," I said, sliding the contract across the table to him. "It's done."

I concentrated on keeping my voice from trembling.

Paxton picked up the contract, his brows furrowing as he studied it. His eyes flickered with gold as his wolf scrutinized the document.

"Is this the original contract from before?" he asked, his voice sharp. "The territory and resource compensation is far too small."

I blinked, not understanding his concern. After all, he was the one ending our relationship.

"You've been my marked mate for five years," he continued, his voice taking on that authoritative tone he used for business decisions. "I can't shortchange you like this. I'll rewrite a new contract with better terms—more territory, more resources."

I stared at him, a bitter taste filling my mouth. If he truly cared about our marking bond, he wouldn't be dissolving it. The realization burned through me. I became his marked mate, but I never wanted his territory or resources.

"Does it have to be dissolved?" The words slipped out before I could stop them. I looked up, meeting his eyes directly. My amber irises unconsciously took on their wolf characteristics as I held his gaze. If looks could trap an Alpha, I wished mine could hold him here.

This was my last attempt. One final time, I would lower my dignity as a Alpha and try to keep him.

"I don't need any territory compensation," I said softly, a faint plea in my voice that would be rare for any wolf with Alpha blood.

Paxton's jaw tightened. Looking into my earnest amber eyes, he seemed to acknowledge the loyalty I'd shown him—the loyalty unique to wolves. But his expression remained unmoved.

"You should understand," he said coldly, "this marking was a mistake from the beginning. Wrong markings can't be maintained indefinitely. They need to be corrected." His voice carried weariness, his golden wolf eyes revealing his determination. "Freya, we're not pups anymore. We need to face the consequences of our past mistakes."

The finality in his voice crushed what little hope I'd been nurturing.

"We must dissolve the marking," he stated firmly.

I felt truly hollow then. What was the point in fighting for an Alpha who couldn't even stand my scent? Why force myself on someone who found my presence repulsive?

My heart is ash. From the beginning, I'd been the only one invested in this relationship. Perhaps it was time to leave this territory that had never truly been mine.

"I'll notify you about the dissolution ritual time soon," he added.

"I see." I kept my voice even, masking the pain ripping through me.

Silence stretched uncomfortably until Paxton glanced at his watch—after midnight.

"How are the business contracts with the Morgan pack coming along?" he asked suddenly.

"There are a few minor issues, but I've already discussed them with Lucas Morgan," I answered, my strategic mind automatically engaging. "We should be able to sign before the next full moon."

If not for those two mark dissolution contracts sitting on the table like a knife to my heart, I would have enjoyed this professional exchange. Even as just business partners, being near him gave my wolf some comfort.

Paxton rubbed his tired eyes, the Alpha pressure around him diminishing slightly.

"It's late," I said. "I should head back to my apartment in the city. I can update you on the Morgan family's latest developments tomorrow."

Maintaining professionalism was my last defense.

"There are plenty of rooms in the territory mansion," he countered. "You could stay tonight and leave tomorrow."

Stay tonight and leave tomorrow? The phrasing stung. I truly was just a temporary visitor in this territory, not a co-owner.

"About the mark dissolution compensation we discussed earlier," he continued. "If you have any territory requests, just name them."

"I don't have any special requests," I replied, keeping my voice neutral.

"I'll give you this territory mansion, along with those wolf territories in the Moonlight District," Paxton stated, as if dividing assets in a business transaction. "You should be satisfied with that."

The way he spoke made it clear—our marking relationship had been nothing more than a wolf territory transaction to him. I felt insulted but kept my anger hidden.

"I only want this territory mansion," I said coolly. My wolf's territorial instincts showed in my voice despite my attempts to remain detached.

This had been our shared territory since our marking. It held our memories together, carried my scent and traces. Honestly, I didn't want to give up this place I'd come to think of as home.

Before Paxton could respond, his phone rang. At twelve-thirty in the morning, there was only one person who would call—Lyra.

My sensitive hearing picked up her sweet voice through the phone. "Pax, isn't William's celebration coming up soon? I'd like to attend with you. I want to show my respect to him."

Paxton's response was gentle, so different from his usual tone. "I understand. I'll consider it. Get some rest, okay?"

In five years of being marked to him, he'd never spoken to me with such tender concern, not even when I worked late nights for Sterling Group.

The contrast was so stark, so painful that I couldn't stop myself from saying, "If she's going, I won't need to attend the celebration."