No Longer Mine to Hold - Chapter 8

Over the years, Maryanne had lived like a pet kept by my father, indulging in pleasure and luxury to the point that she had long forgotten how to survive on her own.

Leah’s treatment required a massive amount of money. The cost of medicine and hiring a healer was enough to drive anyone to despair.

With no other options left, Maryanne sought help from her old lovers from her younger days.

But back then, she had used her looks to come between many marked mates. Now, having fallen from grace, she was met with nothing but ruthless humiliation before she could even ask for help.

No one was willing to lend her money. Instead, wandering rogues set their sights on her and nearly abducted her.

In desperation, she tried to demand compensation from Anderson.

But on the very day everything fell apart, Anderson had sworn a blood oath to transfer all his assets to me.

By the time the enforcers found him, he was nothing more than a destitute, disgraced wolf.

Maryanne had truly run out of options.

The marketplace was bustling, filled with the scent of roasted meats and the chatter of merchants. Maryanne stood at the edge of it all, her once-pristine robes now tattered and unkempt. She clutched at a passing noble’s sleeve, her voice desperate.

“Please, just a little help. You used to—”

The noble recoiled in disgust. “That was a long time ago, Maryanne. You have nothing left to offer.”

A chorus of laughter followed as she stumbled back, her hands trembling. The rogues lurking at the market’s edges watched her with calculating eyes, their whispers reaching her ears. She fled before they could close in, her breaths ragged with humiliation.

Meanwhile, in a dimly lit healer’s hut, Leah lay propped against a pile of soft furs. Her mate, a steady presence at her side, pressed a cup of herbal tea into her hands.

“The healers say you’re improving,” he murmured.

She smiled faintly, her grip firm around the warm cup. “It’s because I finally have something worth living for.”

The candlelight flickered over her face, revealing the quiet strength that had carried her through. Though weakened, she was no longer the helpless girl who had once cowered behind deceit. She would live—not just survive, but truly live.

Across the village, Rhys sat in the shadows of the training grounds, watching the young wolves spar. His clothes were worn, his once-groomed hair now a tangled mess. When he saw me approach, he stiffened.

“Irene.”

I stopped a few paces away, my gaze cool. “What are you doing here, Rhys?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted, his voice hollow. “I don’t belong anywhere anymore.”

Silence stretched between us. The Rhys I had known was gone, replaced by a man who carried the weight of his own choices. And yet, I felt nothing for him.

“You were right about one thing,” I said at last. “Forgiveness doesn’t matter. Because I don’t care enough to hate you anymore.”

His breath hitched, and for the first time, he had no response.

I left him there, lost in the ruins of his own making, and stepped forward into the future awaiting me.