Bella stood at the edge of White Moon's territory, her breath curling in the cold night air.
She had nothing with her.
No bags.
No weapons.
Just herself.
Because she didn't need anything else.
She had already lost everything.
And now?
She was walking away before they could take what little was left.
The pack no longer trusted her.
Dante no longer looked at her the same way.
Not with love.
Not with devotion.
With fear.
And Bella?
She was tired of pretending to be something she wasn't anymore.
"You think I'll let you walk away?"
Bella's chest tightened.
She didn't turn around.
Didn't need to.
Because she had felt him coming.
Dante.
Her mate.
Her Alpha.
Her past.
He was standing a few feet behind her, his presence a storm in the dark, his breathing sharp, unsteady.
Bella exhaled slowly.
"I'm not asking for permission."
Dante let out a low, humorless laugh.
"You never do."
Then—
She finally turned to face him.
And what she saw?
Made her stomach twist.
Because he wasn't angry.
He wasn't furious.
He was broken.
Dante Rodrigo, the Alpha who had never lost a battle, never backed down, never surrendered—
Looked at her like he was already grieving.
"Don't do this, Bella." His voice was low, raw.
"Don't walk away from me."
Bella swallowed hard.
"I already have."
Then—
She took a step back.
And another.
And another.
Dante's breathing turned sharp, uneven.
"If you leave—"
He didn't finish.
Didn't have to.
Because they both knew.
If she left now, she wasn't coming back.
And Dante?
Dante would never forgive her for it.