Chapter 12
**Kael's POV**
The formal audience was granted for the fifteenth of December.
Their anniversary.
Kael knew what it meant. She'd chosen that date deliberately — a blade wrapped in irony.
He didn't care. If it meant seeing her, speaking to her, he would walk into whatever trap she set.
The two weeks of waiting were agony. Fenris had stopped speaking to him entirely — his wolf curled in silent fury, mourning a mate and pups he might never reach.
When the day came, Kael dressed in black. No pack colors. No Alpha posturing. He went as a man, not a title.
Ronan insisted on coming. "Someone needs to make sure you don't do something suicidal."
The Blackwood compound was more imposing up close. Stone and glass and ancient power soaked into every surface.
They were led through corridors lined with guards — not to a private room, but to the Great Hall.
It was *full.*
Wolves from both packs — Blackwood and Northern Ridge — filled the gallery seats. Kael's own council members sat among them, looking uncomfortable and small.
At the far end, on an elevated platform, sat Alpha Supreme Dominic Blackwood. His presence alone could suffocate.
And beside him—
Sera.
She stood rather than sat, even at six months pregnant. She wore white — a deliberate choice, Kael realized. The color of severance in wolf tradition.
She was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. And the most unreachable.
"Alpha Kael Voss." Her voice echoed through the hall, formal and clear. "You requested this audience."
He walked forward. Every eye in the room watched him.
"Sera—"
"Princess Blackwood." Her correction was instant. "Address me properly, or this ends now."
He swallowed. "Princess Blackwood." The title felt wrong on his tongue — not because she didn't deserve it, but because he should have been the one to give her a title. And he'd given her nothing.
"I came to apologize." His voice was raw. "Not just for what you heard that night, but for everything. For three years of making you less. For every time I told you to be quiet. To be smaller. To be *sensible.*"
The hall was silent.
"I didn't see you." His eyes burned. "I had the most incredible woman — the most powerful wolf alive — and I told her to fold my laundry and be gentle."
A bitter laugh escaped him. "I'm the stupidest Alpha who ever lived."
No response from her. Not even a shift in expression.
"I'm not asking for forgiveness," he continued. "I know I don't deserve it. But those are my pups too, and I—"
"Stop." Her single word silenced him like a command. And it *was* a command — infused with an authority that made his wolf instinctively submit.
The entire hall felt it. Alphas in the gallery lowered their heads.
Sera descended one step from the platform. Just one.
"You don't get to claim them now." Her voice was quiet, but it carried. "You didn't want me when I was standing in front of you with your children in my belly, asking you to *stay.* You chose her. You chose your friends' laughter. You chose your own comfort."
Each word was a knife, and Kael took them all.
"Now you stand here, in *my* hall, in *my* territory, surrounded by *my* pack, and you want to claim what you threw away?"
She shook her head slowly.
"No."
The word was final.
"Sera, please—" He was on his knees now, in front of hundreds of wolves, and he didn't care. "I'll do anything. *Anything.* I'll leave my pack. I'll give up my title. Just don't—"
"You'll do nothing." Her eyes were steel. "Because this is over."
She raised her hand and removed something from her throat — the silver pendant he hadn't noticed before. As she held it up, it caught the light.
A severance stone. Ancient. Irreversible.
"No." Kael's voice shattered. "Sera, *no—*"
---
The formal audience was granted for the fifteenth of December.
Their anniversary.
Kael knew what it meant. She'd chosen that date deliberately — a blade wrapped in irony.
He didn't care. If it meant seeing her, speaking to her, he would walk into whatever trap she set.
The two weeks of waiting were agony. Fenris had stopped speaking to him entirely — his wolf curled in silent fury, mourning a mate and pups he might never reach.
When the day came, Kael dressed in black. No pack colors. No Alpha posturing. He went as a man, not a title.
Ronan insisted on coming. "Someone needs to make sure you don't do something suicidal."
The Blackwood compound was more imposing up close. Stone and glass and ancient power soaked into every surface.
They were led through corridors lined with guards — not to a private room, but to the Great Hall.
It was *full.*
Wolves from both packs — Blackwood and Northern Ridge — filled the gallery seats. Kael's own council members sat among them, looking uncomfortable and small.
At the far end, on an elevated platform, sat Alpha Supreme Dominic Blackwood. His presence alone could suffocate.
And beside him—
Sera.
She stood rather than sat, even at six months pregnant. She wore white — a deliberate choice, Kael realized. The color of severance in wolf tradition.
She was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. And the most unreachable.
"Alpha Kael Voss." Her voice echoed through the hall, formal and clear. "You requested this audience."
He walked forward. Every eye in the room watched him.
"Sera—"
"Princess Blackwood." Her correction was instant. "Address me properly, or this ends now."
He swallowed. "Princess Blackwood." The title felt wrong on his tongue — not because she didn't deserve it, but because he should have been the one to give her a title. And he'd given her nothing.
"I came to apologize." His voice was raw. "Not just for what you heard that night, but for everything. For three years of making you less. For every time I told you to be quiet. To be smaller. To be *sensible.*"
The hall was silent.
"I didn't see you." His eyes burned. "I had the most incredible woman — the most powerful wolf alive — and I told her to fold my laundry and be gentle."
A bitter laugh escaped him. "I'm the stupidest Alpha who ever lived."
No response from her. Not even a shift in expression.
"I'm not asking for forgiveness," he continued. "I know I don't deserve it. But those are my pups too, and I—"
"Stop." Her single word silenced him like a command. And it *was* a command — infused with an authority that made his wolf instinctively submit.
The entire hall felt it. Alphas in the gallery lowered their heads.
Sera descended one step from the platform. Just one.
"You don't get to claim them now." Her voice was quiet, but it carried. "You didn't want me when I was standing in front of you with your children in my belly, asking you to *stay.* You chose her. You chose your friends' laughter. You chose your own comfort."
Each word was a knife, and Kael took them all.
"Now you stand here, in *my* hall, in *my* territory, surrounded by *my* pack, and you want to claim what you threw away?"
She shook her head slowly.
"No."
The word was final.
"Sera, please—" He was on his knees now, in front of hundreds of wolves, and he didn't care. "I'll do anything. *Anything.* I'll leave my pack. I'll give up my title. Just don't—"
"You'll do nothing." Her eyes were steel. "Because this is over."
She raised her hand and removed something from her throat — the silver pendant he hadn't noticed before. As she held it up, it caught the light.
A severance stone. Ancient. Irreversible.
"No." Kael's voice shattered. "Sera, *no—*"
---