The sun had barely broken over the rooftops when Rosaline stirred from a sleepless night. Her eyes were swollen, lashes still wet from the hours she had spent crying into the pillow. The inn's modest bed felt too big, too cold. The room, once quaint and cozy, now felt suffocating.
Ciara sat near the window, watching the empty street below, already dressed in her traveling cloak. She didn't sleep much either ... not after she heard Rosaline the night before, broken and sobbing.
"Rosie," Ciara said softly, turning to her. "You need to eat something. We'll be on the road for hours."
"I'm not hungry," Rosaline replied, her voice hoarse.
Ciara crossed the room and sat beside her. "You haven't had a bite since yesterday."
Rosaline stared blankly at her lap. "I don't want to remember that night."
Ciara didn't push. She just wrapped her arm around her friend, holding her as gently as she could .....as if Rosaline might crack if touched too hard.
"He's the king," Rosaline whispered after a moment. "The king, Ciara. Can you believe it?"
Ciara stayed quiet, unsure what to say. She knew how much Rosaline dreamed of meeting her mate, of having a bond that meant something. And instead of magic and warmth, she found rejection from the one person fate had bound her to.
"It was supposed to be a quick trip," Rosaline said bitterly. "Buy fabric. Go home. That was all."
Ciara's grip tightened. "You didn't ask for this, Rosie. None of this is your fault."
Rosaline looked up, her eyes filled with a pain deeper than heartbreak. "But I let myself feel something. The moment I looked at him… I felt it, Ciara. I felt it in my soul. And now I don't know how to make it stop."
Ciara swallowed the lump in her throat. "Maybe time will help."
Rosaline stood, walking toward her travel bag. Her hands moved mechanically, folding and stuffing their clothes back inside. " It's been hard,the past two nights staying here, Ciara. Not when he's so close."
Ciara nodded. "We'll go home. Pack up and leave before the market gets crowded."
Rosaline looked toward the window, her heart aching. "Do you think he ever really wanted a mate?"
Ciara hesitated, then shook her head. "I don't know what's in his heart. But I know what's in yours. And you deserve better than what he gave you."
Rosaline gave a small, bitter smile. "He said he didn't want anything he couldn't control. That a fated mate was unpredictable .....and he didn't want that."
Ciara's face twisted in disbelief. "He didn't want someone who could love him unconditionally?"
Rosaline looked away. "He wanted someone he could choose… not someone chosen for him."
Ciara stood and began packing her own bag. "Then he's a fool. And you? You're brave. You faced your mate, your king, and still walked away with your pride. Don't ever forget that."
They both fell into silence, broken only by the rustling of fabric and the occasional creak of the wooden floor. Rosaline tried to swallow the lump in her throat. She didn't want to cry anymore ....her tears felt wasted, her emotions betrayed.
As they finished packing, Rosaline glanced at the small mirror above the washbasin. Her eyes were red, her cheeks pale. She barely recognized herself. "I look terrible."
"You look like a girl who had her heart broken," Ciara said gently, stepping behind her and fixing her cloak. "And you still look beautiful."
Rosaline gave a soft, humorless laugh. "Thank you."
By the time they stepped out of the inn, the capital was fully awake. The chatter of merchants filled the air, carts rumbled down cobbled streets, and the scent of fresh bread and spices drifted on the breeze.
But for Rosaline, it all felt distant .....like the world had moved on while she was still frozen in the moment she heard his voice say, "Yes, Rosaline, I'm going to reject the bond."
They walked toward the carriage stop in silence, weaving through clusters of early shoppers. Rosaline kept her head low, avoiding curious glances. Her heart throbbed with every step away from the castle. Every street she passed, every lantern she saw lit the night before ..... they were all reminders of him.
Ciara noticed the tremble in Rosaline's hands as she held the straps of her bag. She reached over and gave them a squeeze. "We're almost there."
"I know," Rosaline whispered.
At the carriage stop, an older man in a dusty coat and worn boots waited beside a covered wagon.
A wooden sign read: WILLOWHILL ROUTE - 30 COPPER COINS.
Ciara fished into her pouch and paid for both of them. The man nodded and helped them onto the bench at the back of the wagon. A few other travelers were already seated .. a farmer, a mother with her child, a young couple whispering to each other.
Rosaline sat quietly, looking out at the city she was about to leave behind. The same city where her life had almost changed. The same city where her heart had broken.
"Do you think he feels anything?" she asked suddenly.
Ciara looked at her. "I'd like to believe so. But does it matter?"
Rosaline didn't answer.
The carriage creaked and began moving forward. The capital rolled past them, slowly at first, then faster as they crossed into the outer roads. Rosaline didn't look back. She couldn't. If she did, she might run to him.... even if he didn't want her.
Her wolf whimpered inside her. It wasn't fair. This bond ..... this pull ... it was real. It mattered. And yet, he treated it like it was a burden.
She pressed a hand to her chest. "Why did the Moon Goddess pair me with someone who never wanted me?"
Ciara rested her head on Rosaline's shoulder. "Maybe this isn't the end of your story. Maybe it's just the beginning."
Rosaline closed her eyes, letting the wind brush her face as the city faded behind them.
She didn't know what the future held.
But she knew one thing ..... no matter how deeply she'd been wounded, she would not let it define her.
She would heal.
And if he ever came looking…
He would have to fight harder than fate itself.