Chapter 16

Life in Favalon settled into a quiet rhythm. I was leaving the bakery, clutching a bag of fresh bread, the scent of lavender mingling with the sweet aroma of pastries. A smile tugged at my lips—Oliver could devour three almond croissants in one go.

"Clara."

The voice sliced through the dusk like lightning. My body froze, the bag slipping from my hands, croissants tumbling onto the cobblestones.

I looked up. Dominic stood there, his suit stark against the sleepy town's vibe, his frame leaner, eyes bloodshot. When our gazes met, his jaw clenched tight.

"I found you," he said, voice raw and ragged.

I stepped back instinctively, only to bump into a warm chest. Oliver was behind me, steadying my shoulders. "You okay?" he asked.

Dominic's eyes turned to ice. He strode forward, pulling us apart. "Who the hell are you?"

"Dominic!" My voice finally broke free. "What are you doing here?"

Oliver stepped in front of me, polite but firm. "And you are?"

Dominic's gaze locked onto me. "I shouldn't be here?" His throat bobbed. "Clara, I messed up. Come home with me, please."

I saw the hope flickering in his eyes.

"Just some stranger," I told Oliver, my voice soft but steady.

Dominic's face went pale. He grabbed my wrist. "Stranger? We're mates!"

"Not anymore." I yanked my arm free. "You signed the bond-breaking papers yourself."

"I didn't know what they were!" His voice rose, drawing stares from passersby. "If I'd known, I never would've—"

"If you'd known, you wouldn't have signed?" I laughed, sharp and bitter. "Dominic, seven years. You only regret it when you're losing something."

Oliver squeezed my hand. "Wanna head back?"

Dominic's eyes burned red at our clasped hands. He stepped between us, glaring at Oliver. "Stay away from my mate."

"Ex-mate," I corrected coldly. "Leave, Dominic, or I'm calling the enforcers."

The word "ex" hit him like a blow. He swayed, then softened his voice, almost pleading. "Clara, I get it—I screwed up. I'll change. Anything you want, I'll give you. Just come home."

For a split second, I wavered. The untouchable Dominic, begging? But I snapped out of it. "Home?" I shook my head. "Maybe it was once. Not anymore."

I grabbed Oliver's arm and walked away.

That night, I spread my suitcase open on the attic floor. Oliver leaned against the doorframe. "You really moving?" he asked. "I could deck him for you."

I shook my head. "He found me here. He won't give up that easy." I paused, folding a shirt. "Sorry for dragging you into this."

Oliver crouched, helping pack my paints. "Where to next? Varrion? Belvaria?"

I looked up. Moonlight spilled through the skylight, gilding his golden hair. This wolf I'd known for barely two months made me feel safer than I ever had.

"Wherever you go," I said softly.

His eyes lit up.

At Favalon's airport, I kept glancing at the security gate, fingers twisting my shirt hem. Oliver was off checking our bags, leaving me with the rest.

"Clara, where are you going?"

Dominic's voice froze my blood.

[Dominic, stop her!!]

[Clara, don't go, please!]

[They love each other—why's it gotta end like this?]

Comments flooded my vision, so dense I could barely see. I shut my eyes, and when I opened them, Dominic was right in front of me.

"I was wrong all those years," he said, voice trembling. "I shouldn't have tested you like that, shouldn't have let you down over and over…"

The boarding call crackled over the speakers. I grabbed my bag to leave, but Dominic caught my arm. "At least tell me where you're going!"

The comments surged, blurring my sight. I wrenched free, stumbling into Oliver's warm embrace as he returned.

"You good?" He guided me toward security, eyeing Dominic warily.

"Clara!" Dominic tried to follow, but a crowd surged, blocking him.

From his perspective, comments twisted wildly, distorting his view. By the time he broke through, my silhouette had vanished into the security line.