Chapter 26 The Severing (Trey's POV)
The cabin was dark when we arrived. Sarah flipped on the lights, revealing dust-covered furniture and windows that hadn't been opened in months.
"It's not much," Derek said, looking around. "But it's pack property. Or it was. Before we all became rogues."
They followed me into whatever I am getting into.
"It's perfect." I moved further inside, already feeling the first tremors starting. "Everyone should get settled. Find rooms. This might get loud."
"Trey." Sarah touched my arm gently. "Are you sure about this? Once the severing starts, there's no going back."
"I'm sure." The words came out steadier than I felt. "Knox made his choice. I made mine."
They dispersed throughout the cabin, and I claimed the master bedroom at the end of the hall. It was bare except for a bed and dresser, but it would do.
I sat on the edge of the bed, feeling the first real wave hit.
Pain. Sharp and burning, like someone was reaching into my chest and pulling out pieces of my soul.
My phone buzzed. Text from Ember: Where are you? Heard what happened. Need to see you.
I typed back with shaking hands: Cabin on the north edge of campus. The old pack house. But Em, you shouldn't come. This is going to get bad.
I'm already on my way.
I tried to text back, to tell her to stay away, but the next wave hit harder. I dropped the phone, curling forward as agony lanced through every nerve.
This was what breaking pack bonds felt like. Like dying slowly from the inside out.
A knock at the front door made me tense. I heard Derek answer, heard muffled conversation. Then footsteps approaching my room.
"Trey?" Knox's voice came through the door. "Let me in. Please. We need to talk about this."
"Go away." The words came out more growl than speech.
"You're going through the severing. You need pack support, someone who understands..."
"I said go away!" I stood, swaying slightly. "You made your choice, Knox. Now live with it."
"I was trying to protect you. To save you from a bond that's destroying everything..."
"By arranging to have my mate killed by her own father?" I moved to the door but didn't open it. "That's not protection. That's betrayal. And I want nothing to do with you or the pack that sanctioned it."
"Trey, please..."
"Leave. Now. Before I forget we're cousins and tear your throat out."
Silence. Then footsteps retreating. The front door closing.
I collapsed back onto the bed as another wave hit, worse than the last. It felt like my bones were breaking and reforming, like every cell in my body was being rewritten.
Time became meaningless. Minutes or hours passed, I couldn't tell. The pain consumed everything.
Then I heard a different knock. Softer. Familiar.
"Trey? It's me."
Ember.
I tried to stand, to go to the door, but my legs wouldn't cooperate. "Em."
The door opened, and she rushed in, dropping to her knees beside the bed. "Oh God. Trey, what's happening?"
"Severing." The word came out strangled. "Breaking pack bonds. It's... it hurts."
"What can I do?" Her hands found mine, and even through the pain, I felt the mate bond pulsing between us. Steady. Strong. Unbreakable.
"Stay." I gripped her hands like a lifeline. "Just... stay."
She climbed onto the bed beside me, pulling me against her chest. "I'm not going anywhere."
The next wave hit, and I couldn't stop the scream that tore from my throat. Ember held me through it, her own tears falling into my hair.
"I've got you," she whispered. "I've got you."
The fever set in on the second day.
I was burning up, my skin so hot that Ember kept bringing cold cloths to press against my forehead. But nothing helped. The severing was consuming me from the inside, remaking me into something else.
A lone wolf. No pack. No family connections. Just me and the mate bond.
"He needs a doctor." Sarah stood in the doorway, her expression worried. "His temperature is 104 and climbing."
"No human doctor can help with this." Ember didn't look away from me. "This is supernatural. We need someone who understands pack bonds."
"Ms. Silvermoon?" Derek suggested. "She'd know about this kind of thing."
"Call her." Ember brushed sweat-dampened hair from my forehead. "Tell her it's an emergency."
I tried to speak, to tell them I was fine, but words wouldn't come. Just groans of pain as another thread snapped, another connection severed.
Ms. Silvermoon arrived an hour later, her expression grave as she examined me.
"How long has he been like this?" She pressed her fingers to my throat, checking my pulse.
"Since last night." Ember's voice was thick with tears. "Is he going to die?"
"No. But he's going to wish he could." Ms. Silvermoon pulled out a vial from her bag. "Wolfsbane extract, heavily diluted. It'll help manage the pain, slow the severing process so his body can adjust."
"Wolfsbane?" Sarah stepped forward. "That's poison to us."
"In high doses, yes. But in controlled amounts, it can be medicinal." She uncorked the vial, pressing it to my lips. "Drink, Trey. Just a little."
I swallowed, tasting bitter herbs. Almost immediately, the pain dulled from unbearable to merely agonizing.
"Better?" Ms. Silvermoon asked.
I managed a nod.
"Good." She turned to Ember. "He'll need this every six hours until the severing completes. And someone needs to stay with him constantly. The process can be... unpredictable."
"I'm not leaving." Ember's tone left no room for argument.
"I assumed not." Ms. Silvermoon's expression softened. "You're his anchor now. The mate bond is the only thing keeping him stable. Without it, the severing could have killed him."
"How long will this last?"
"Three to five days, typically. By then, the pack bonds will be completely gone, and he'll have adjusted to being a lone wolf." She packed away her supplies. "But Ember, you need to understand what that means. Trey is now outside pack protection. Any werewolf can challenge him without political consequence. And challenges will come—lone wolves are seen as threats by established packs."
"Then we'll deal with them together."
Ms. Silvermoon studied her for a long moment. "This path you're walking, it's going to get darker before it gets better."
After she left, Ember settled back beside me, her hand in mine.
"I'm sorry," I whispered. "For dragging you into this. For choosing you over my pack and making everything worse."
"Don't." She squeezed my hand. "Don't apologize for choosing us. I'm just sorry it's hurting you so much."
Another wave hit, and I gasped, squeezing her hand hard enough to hurt. She didn't complain, just held me through it.
"Tell me a story," I said when I could speak again. "Distract me."
"What kind of story?"
"Anything. Your childhood. Your grandmother. Volleyball. I don't care. Just talk."
So she did. She talked about growing up with her grandmother, about learning to play volleyball, about the first time she made a perfect dig and felt like she'd found her calling. She talked until her voice went hoarse, and then she just held me, letting the mate bond pulse between us.
Steady. Strong. Unbreakable.
By the third night, the worst of it had passed.
I could sit up without feeling like my chest was being ripped open. Could speak in full sentences. Could focus on something other than the constant agony of bonds breaking.
Ember helped me to the bathroom, supporting my weight as I shuffled across the room. I looked like hell—pale, gaunt, eyes ringed with dark circles.
"You look better," she lied, her reflection meeting mine in the mirror.
"I look like death warmed over."
"Okay, yes. But better than yesterday's death warmed over." She smiled, and it was almost genuine. "The fever broke an hour ago. Ms. Silvermoon said that's a good sign."
I turned to look at her, really look at her for the first time in days. She looked exhausted, dark circles under her own eyes, her hair pulled back in a messy ponytail.
"You need rest." I touched her cheek. "Not keeping vigil over me."
"I'm fine."
"You're dead on your feet." I moved carefully back toward the bedroom, my legs still shaky. "Come on. We're both sleeping."
We climbed into bed, and I pulled her against my chest. For the first time in three days, I felt something other than pain. Just the rightness of having my mate in my arms.
"Trey?" Her voice was soft, uncertain.
"Yeah?"
"Are you going to be okay? I mean, Ms. Silvermoon said you're more powerful now, but also more vulnerable. What does that mean for us?"
"It means we figure it out together." I pressed a kiss to her hair. "Whatever comes next, we face it together."
She was quiet for a long moment. The
n: "There's something I need to tell you."
The shift in her tone made me tense. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing's wrong. It's just..." She pulled back slightly to look at me. "I can smell it. The change. It's subtle, but it's there."
"What change?"
"In me." Her hand moved to her stomach. "Trey, I'm pregnant. The prophecy is happening, Trey. Just like everyone feared."