Chapter 29 Chapter 29
Zarlia woke to the sound of rain whispering against the windows. The sheets beside her were cold.
Stetson was gone.
For a long moment, she lay still, staring at the faint imprint his body had left on the mattress. Her chest tightened, a dull ache stirring deep inside her. He’d gotten up early again. She could still smell him in the air — that faint mix of pine, musk, and something darker. It always lingered.
With a sigh, she sat up and pulled her hair into a loose bun. The morning light spilled softly through the curtains, painting the room in pale gold. She made the bed out of habit, smoothing out every wrinkle as if perfection could somehow keep her mind calm.
When she turned to pick up the clothes she’d left on the chair, something caught her eye — a small pile of envelopes on the bedside table, right beside Stetson’s side of the bed.
She frowned.
There were always letters — old ones and sealed, others unread. Most came from Romania. She had read a few before, hiddenly, curious about the life he never spoke of. Some were affectionate, some demanding, some cold as ice. But there was one that wasn’t there last night — a white envelope, fresh and neatly placed on top. It was open which unusual; Stetson never reads them.
Her heart thudded as she reached for it. Luke must have brought it that morning. He must have come early.
She hesitated, then opened it.
Her eyes raced over the words. The first few sentences made her chest tighten. By the middle of the letter, her hands were trembling.
“The pack is aware you’ve found a mate. Donavon is demanding your return. The bloodline must continue. The Luna must bear an heir to restore balance to the Red Moon clan. The council insists you return with your human before the month’s end to claim your title as Alpha.”
Zarlia’s eyes widened, and her breath caught.
“No…” she whispered, voice shaking.
She dropped the letter, the paper floating to the floor like a falling leaf. Her thoughts raced — they knew. His entire family, his entire pack, knew about her.
And worse — they wanted her to give them an heir.
She pressed a trembling hand to her mouth. No. No, no, no…Stetson wasn’t going back. He couldn’t. Not after everything. Not after how they’d treated him. Not like she knew what happened in detail.
Her chest felt like it was caving in.
She turned quickly; her bare feet cold against the wooden floor. She had to find him, talk to him, warn him — tell him he didn’t have to go. That she’d be fine, that she didn’t need a title or a throne or any of that.
But as she stepped into the hallway, she froze.
Voices drifted from the kitchen — low, steady, masculine.
Luke and Stetson.
Her heart sank. She crept closer, every step measured, careful not to make the floor creak.
“…they found out about her,” Luke was saying. “And you know how the pack is, Stetson. They’ll never accept a human Luna. You can’t lead with that kind of weakness beside you.”
Zarlia’s blood ran cold. Weak?
There was silence, then Stetson’s deep voice, quiet but heavy. “I don’t know what to do.” Luke’s voice softened slightly. “Then you need to make a choice. Either cut her off — or end the bond.”
“I can’t break it. The pack is restless and I can’t take Zarlia with me, she’ll get killed”
“Not unless you end it the old way.”
A long pause followed. Zarlia leaned against the wall, her nails digging into her palm. She could hear Stetson’s heartbeat — heavy, slow, uncertain.
“What way?” his voice came finally, quiet and wary.
Luke exhaled. “There’s an ancient rite. Not many remember it — but if an Alpha eats his mate’s heart, the bond dies with her. He’ll be free. Stronger, even. The weakness will be gone. It’s how the old wolves used to cut ties.”
The words hit her like a blade. Zarlia’s mouth fell open, her breath catching in her throat.
He couldn’t be serious. Luke couldn’t — couldn’t.
But what made it worse wasn’t Luke’s words.
It was Stetson’s silence.
He didn’t say no.
He didn’t say that’s insane.
He said nothing.
“Please say no… Stetson—please.” Zarlia felt her pulse thunder in her ears.
Luke continued, voice low, persuasive. “She’s human, Stetson. Weak. You know she won’t survive in your world. She won’t carry your child. She’ll break. And when she does, you’ll suffer for it. But if you do this now, while you still don’t feel much for her — you’ll be stronger than ever. A true lone wolf. Viktor won’t stand a chance.”
She took a step back, hand pressed against her chest.
Her vision blurred. The air felt thin.
He… wasn’t answering. He wasn’t denying it. The silence stretched, long and suffocating.
She could feel him thinking. Considering it.
Zarlia’s throat tightened, tears stinging her eyes. She wanted to scream, to rush in there and make him say it — make him tell her he could never hurt her.
But she didn’t, because every thing she felt, every moment share was just one sided.
Instead, she stumbled back, heart pounding in her chest.
And then — Stetson’s head turned. His nostrils flared slightly.He smelled her.
“Zarlia—”
She didn’t wait. She ran.
She didn’t remember packing — only the blur of movement, the sound of drawers opening and closing, the zip of her bag. Her hands shook violently as she shoved her things inside. Her vision was blurry with tears.
He wouldn’t. He couldn’t. He’s not that person. He’s not.
But deep inside, something fragile cracked — because she wasn’t sure anymore. She could still hear Luke’s words echoing in her head — eat her heart… stronger… lone wolf…
Her stomach turned.
The moment she heard footsteps outside the room, she grabbed her bag and bolted. The door shut softly behind her as she fled down the hall, barefoot, moving like a ghost.
She slipped out through the side door, heart hammering.
Outside, the cold morning air hit her face, sharp and wet from the drizzle. She raised a trembling hand and flagged down a taxi that was parked by the main road.
The driver looked surprised at her drenched hair and red eyes, but she didn’t care. “Take me back to the city,” she said quickly, voice barely steady.
The car started, the tires crunching over gravel as the beach house disappeared in the rear-view mirror. Her fingers twisted around the strap of her bag. She tried to breathe, but every inhale felt like it hurt.
Her mind replayed it again and again — his silence.
She should have known, Stetson don’t do love, don’t do women, especially not a gullible looking weak woman who cries about heartbreak and family betrayal like her. The signs were there, all of them but she chose to ignore them—his lack of trust, the rejected kiss, the change in demeanour and so on.
Her fake parents were right, no one loved her, no one will ever love her—not her dead parents, not her fake ones, not her ex boyfriend, not Stetson… no one. She was delusional to think Stetson actually cared about her, he was no different from Romero, the only thing was the fact that he didn’t spend her money recklessly.
By the time she reached the house in the city, the sun had already begun to set. The streets glowed gold and amber, but nothing about the light felt warm.
Zarlia stepped out of the taxi, clutching her bag. The familiar house loomed ahead — their house — and for a brief second, her heart ached at the memory of their laughter echoing in those walls, of the nights he carried her to bed when she fell asleep on the couch.
But when she reached the door, something felt wrong.
It wasn’t locked.
She frowned and pushed it open slowly.
The air inside was still. Quiet.
Too quiet.
Her heart pounded as she stepped in, her shoes echoing faintly on the wooden floor. “Stetson?” she called out, her voice small, trembling.
No answer.
The silence pressed against her like a weight. She swallowed hard and stepped further inside — unaware that behind her, a shadow was moving in the dim hallway.