Cassian stormed away without another word, leaving the elders and enforcers in stunned silence.
Wren stood still, body trembling not from fear—but something deeper. A storm of old tales stirred inside her. Witches couldn't be mated to wolves. It was unnatural. Taboo. Dangerous.
And yet—here she stood, claimed by fate.
She found him in the east tower an hour later, fists clenched, eyes storming.
"You felt it," she said softly. "Didn't you?"
He didn't answer.
"You're my mate."
Cassian turned. The fury in his gaze was not for her—but it burned just the same.
"I can't do this," he said hoarsely. "My people won't accept it. You're a witch, Wren. You shouldn't even be here."
"You summoned me."
"I thought—I thought you'd help with the moon curse. I didn't expect—this."
Her jaw clenched. "So what now?"
He looked at her like she was the monster in his nightmare.
"I, Cassian Nightborne, reject you, Wren Myles, as my mate."
The words were a blade.
Something broke inside her. Not just her heart. Not just the fragile thread of magic between them. Something deeper. Older. A promise twisted into a curse.
And the storm that followed—was hers.