No Mark, No Bond, No More Chapter 11

No Mark, No Bond, No More Chapter 11

A single month apart had aged Dorian drastically. Gaunt and pale with sunken hollowed eye sockets, he stumbled toward the visiting partition with 

unsteady, weak steps. Those soulful eyes that once held all my adoration now shone hollow and exhausted, a burnt–out candle flickering with nothing but crippling regret and ruin. 

I sat across the divider, calm and composed as I spoke. “Our formal divorce and bond–dissolution decree has been finalized by pack law. I’m here to 

discuss the cabin’s ownership.” 

Dorian fell silent for a long stretch, the faint spark 

of hope sparked by seeing me fading fast from his gaze. “The property deed’s solely filed under your legal name. Sell it and keep every cent of the profit 

for yourself.” 

It was true. Early into our relationship, eager to 

reassure me of his unwavering devotion, Dorian 

had signed the home title exclusively over to my 

name, back when his love had been genuine and 

passionate. Tragically, he’d long abandoned that 

original promise to put my wellbeing first. 

“Understood.” I nodded flatly, no extra 

commentary to spare. Some days I thanked fate 

for choosing to leave without hesitation; my decisive exit spared me far more unnecessary pain. 

“Aria…” Dorian’s trembling voice stopped me mid–turn toward the exit. “I’m truly sorry for everything I’ve done wrong. I never should’ve brought Gavin and the patrol into our home or let them order you around and humiliate you without pushing back. More than once I’ve watched their 

unfair treatment and wanted to stand up for you, 

yet I always froze.” 

“Because you’re a spineless coward,” I cut him off, 

glancing over my shoulder with a sharp, mocking glint in my eyes. “You couldn’t even protect your own bonded mate.” 

His complexion blanched further as I continued. 

“You knew every cruel word and petty slight hurt 

me deeply, countless chances laid out before you 

to choose my side and salvage what we had, yet 

you consistently picked inaction and Selene over 

our happiness. You stood by every single time I 

was mocked, wronged, and scolded, fully aware of 

every injustice–but you never chose me. More 

often than not, you were the source of my worst 

suffering.” 

“Dorian, you never deserved to be my husband, 

and you never deserved to be our pup’s father.” 

I turned on my heel and walked out without another word, his broken, muffled sobs echoing behind the glass partition as I left the detention center for good. I never looked back once. 

Back in Silvercrest City, I threw myself headfirst 

into nonstop work, pulling late nights until 

exhaustion erased spare time to dwell on past 

heartache. Weeks later, my Blackwood–based 

friend called with fresh updates from the territory 

tribunal. 

“Selene refused all settlement terms and pushed 

Dorian’s abuse case all the way to formal court. 

He’s not denying hurting her during their stairwell 

fight, but he’s countersuing to demand full 

repayment for every cent he’s spent covering her 

medical bills and personal expenses over the 

years. She’s completely unable to pay the massive 

sum owed, so both sides dig in their heels and 

drag the dispute through endless messy hearings. Her mental health’s spiraling worse by the day, flipping between rational calm and violent psychotic episodes where she can’t recognize. anyone around her. All the former patrol brothers who once hovered around her have fled the 

territory to avoid getting dragged into their mess.” 

I sighed quietly at her recount, yet the only verdict 

that lingered was that they’d each gotten exactly 

what they’d earned. I’d once believed their 

tight–knit found family unbreakable, only to 

discover their bond existed solely off Dorian’s 

endless money and misplaced favoritism, 

destined to crumble the instant his generosity 

dried up. 

As the year drew to a close, the trade project team 

under my leadership crushed annual targets, 

earning full–group year–end bonuses. At the annual 

Year–End Pack Alliance Banquet, the Alliance’s 

Deputy Director invited me onstage to deliver a 

motivational keynote speech for all assembled 

staff. 

Spotlights and warm banquet glows settled over 

my frame as my coworkers cheered and applauded from the crowd. 

Just half a year prior, I’d been trapped confined to 

domestic life revolving around Dorian, broken and 

wounded by his careless cruelty; now I’d carved 

out a thriving professional path and clear direction 

for my future. 

Emotion pricked at my eyes as I gripped the 

podium microphone. 

“I’m endlessly grateful to Silvercrest Inter–Pack Trade Headquarters for granting me this 

life–changing opportunity. Moving forward, I’ll keep pouring my full effort into driving greater success for our entire team.” 

From now on, I’d shine solely for my own sake, 

rooted steady as evergreen pine, standing firm on 

my own merits. 

Headquarters‘ company car dropped me off outside my apartment late that night, and I 

wandered slowly up the empty residential street, 

replaying all the dramatic twists of the past six months under a dark sky. 

A faint cool brush against my cheek made me tilt 

my head upward: fine wispy snowflakes swirled 

down on the night breeze, the season’s first 

snowfall drifting gently through the air. 

A soft, genuine smile lifted my lips as my 

footsteps lightened. 

Hopeful dreams lingered in my heart, distant stars 

shining bright in my line of sight. My future would. 

only keep growing brighter. 

I’d turn every ounce of newfound resolve into 

courage chasing my own happiness, forever 

writing the triumphant leading–lady story I was 

always meant to live.