(Azaria's Point of View)
The tension in the air was barely palpable as we made our way to the glass elevator, the anticipation of the ritual thrumming like an electric current around us. The elevator ride to the top floor felt both excruciatingly long and fleeting, the mirrored walls reflecting the apprehension and determination etched into our faces. I glanced at Ethan, standing stoic and unreadable, his jaw clenched tightly. The memory of his cruel words and the bitterness of our shared past were fresh in my mind, but I forced myself to remain calm. This was the final step to my freedom.
As the elevator doors slid open, we were greeted by the soft glow of the setting sun filtering through the massive glass windows of the ritual room. The top floor was designed to allow the full brilliance of the moon and stars to shine down upon those inside, a testament to Selene's ever-watchful presence. The room was already prepared for the ritual; the Elders and Council members were arranged in a semicircle, their faces solemn and focused. The energy in the room was heavy, filled with the weight of centuries of tradition and the solemnity of what was about to occur.
Within minutes, everyone had assembled, and the ritual began. The head Elder, who had spoken so forcefully during the meeting, now stood at the center of the room, her presence commanding and reverent. Beside her, the Lead Council member held a silver tray, meticulously arranged with the ritual tools: a bundle of sage and rosemary, a small bowl of sacred water, and a finely beveled dagger with a handle inlaid with moonstone, its blade etched with ancient runes.
The Elder's eyes met mine briefly, a flicker of something—perhaps sympathy, perhaps understanding—passing through them before she turned her attention to the tools before her. She took the sage and rosemary bundle and lit it with a quick flick of her wrist. The fragrant smoke curled up into the air, spiraling around us as the Elder used a feather to waft it over Ethan and me. The aroma was calming, yet the significance of the cleansing was not lost on me; this was a symbolic act of purification, preparing us for the severing of our bond.
Once the smoke had filled the air, the Elder extinguished the bundle and returned it to the tray, replacing it with the bowl of sacred water. She dipped her fingers into the water and began to sprinkle it over us, her lips moving silently as she recited a prayer to Selene in the ancient dialect of the Elders. The language was foreign to my ears, a series of lilting syllables and rhythmic cadences that seemed to carry a power of their own. I felt a shiver run down my spine, the water cool against my skin, as if the goddess herself were watching over us, judging the actions about to unfold.
As the Elder continued her incantation, a translucent white cord appeared around our arms, glowing softly in the dim light of the room. It wound itself around my left hand and Ethan's right, binding us together in a final, visible manifestation of our bond. I swallowed hard, my heart pounding in my chest as I stared at the cord. This was it. The moment I had been waiting for, the moment I would be free.
The Elder then took the dagger from the tray, its blade gleaming in the light. She raised it high, her voice growing louder and more forceful as she spoke the final words of the ritual. "By this selestium blade, blessed and given to us by Selene, I sever the bond that once held Ethan Thorne and Azaria Alidan together."
With a swift, decisive motion, she brought the dagger down, slicing through the cord. The moment the blade touched the cord, it vanished, dissolving into a fine mist that dissipated into the air. A wave of heat radiated from where the cord had been, and suddenly, a burning sensation erupted on my shoulder, as if my skin were being scorched from the inside out.
I doubled over in pain, a sharp gasp escaping my lips as the agony seared through me. It was as if every nerve in my body was on fire, the intensity of the pain almost unbearable. I forced myself to stay upright, to not let the pain consume me, but it was a struggle. My vision blurred, and for a moment, I thought I might pass out.
The pain began to subside, slowly ebbing away, leaving me breathless and weak. I blinked rapidly, trying to refocus my gaze, to push through the haze of pain that clouded my mind. As my vision cleared, I saw Ethan on the ground, his face contorted in agony, his screams finally registering in my ears. His cries were guttural, raw, filled with a torment I knew all too well.
A grim satisfaction filled me as I watched him writhe on the ground, knowing that he was finally feeling a fraction of the pain he had caused me. The betrayal, the lies, the constant manipulation—it had all led to this moment. And now, he was the one suffering.
I took a deep breath, steadying myself as I turned my attention away from Ethan. My eyes found Stephanie, standing a few feet away, her face pale and tear-streaked. She looked at me with a mixture of fear, regret, and something else—something I couldn't quite place.
"Your turn, beloved," I said softly, mustering all the gentleness I could despite the turmoil raging inside me. My voice wavered slightly, but I forced a small, reassuring smile onto my face. I wanted to be kind, to offer her some semblance of comfort, even though my heart was aching. I wanted her to be happy, even if it wasn't with me.
Stephanie's eyes widened, and she took a hesitant step back, her hands trembling. "I…I-I can't. I didn't mean—" Her voice broke, and she choked back a sob, her body shaking with the force of her emotions.
I reached out, my hand resting lightly on her arm, the space between us heavy with everything unspoken. My voice fell to a whisper, soft yet trembling with the weight of what had to be said. "I know," I breathed, as though the words themselves were fragile. "I know it hurts... but this was your choice." I paused, forcing myself to swallow the sorrow. "I hope you find happiness with him, truly. But now, you have to free me. I can't stay trapped in this."
I looked into her eyes, searching for something—maybe closure, maybe understanding—but knowing I'd find neither. "Reject me as you've done in your heart already. Make me the villain in the story you tell yourself, the monster who stood in the way of your perfect love."
A deep ache filled my chest, but I forced the words out, my heart breaking as I spoke. "Because I won't leave here tethered to a love that feels like poison, seeping into my soul. I refuse to be drawn back into a grave where love is already dead, where even the last flickers of desire are tainted, turned to ash by what we've become."
Her tears flowed freely now, her shoulders shaking with silent sobs. She looked at me with a mixture of desperation and helplessness, her eyes pleading with me to understand, to forgive. But I couldn't. Not now. Not after everything.
"Curse my name every night if you must," I continued, my tone firm yet gentle. "Destroy all memories of me within the pack and be the great Luna that he never saw me as. As long as you reject me here and now, you may hate me forever if it will bring you peace. I no longer care about your thoughts on me, us, or anything ever again."
I straightened up, wiping away her tears with a soft, almost tender touch. My heart ached at the sight of her so broken, but I couldn't let myself falter. I had to be strong. For both of us.
"Now, let's continue, shall we?" I said firmly, my voice steady and resolute. I stepped back, giving her space to compose herself, to make her decision. I could feel the weight of the room's gaze on us, the tension thick and suffocating. This was it—the final act in this long, painful chapter of my life.
(Ethan's Point of View)
This pain is like nothing I had ever felt before, a searing agony that tears through my body, burning from the inside out. It is as if my very soul is being ripped apart, and I can do nothing but scream, the sound raw and primal. I fell to my knees, clutching my shoulder where the mark had been, the symbol of our bond now gone, leaving nothing but pain in its wake.
As the pain subsided, a cold fury replaced it. How dare she? How dare she sever our bond, break the connection that tied her to me? She was mine, bound to me by fate, by the goddess herself. And now, she had taken that from me, had ripped it away as if it were nothing.
I struggled to my feet, my vision blurred with rage and pain. I could see Azaria standing there, calm and composed, her eyes filled with a mixture of pity and resolve. It made my blood boil. She was supposed to be suffering, supposed to be begging for forgiveness. But instead, she was standing there, defiant, as if she had won.
I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms as I glared at her. This wasn't over. Not by a long shot. She may have severed our bond, but she was still mine. And I would find a way to make her pay, to bring her back under my control.
As I watched, she turned her attention to Stephanie, her voice soft and gentle as she spoke to her. My heart clenched with jealousy and anger. She had taken Stephanie from me too, had tainted her with her lies and manipulation. I wanted to tear them apart, to make them both suffer for what they had done.
But as I stood there, watching them, a small part of me—a part I had buried deep down—felt something else. Regret. Guilt. I had driven Azaria to this, had pushed her away with my actions, my lies. And now, I was reaping the consequences.
But I pushed those thoughts away, burying them beneath the anger and the pain. I can't afford to be weak, can't afford to let them see how much this is affecting me. I have to be strong, have to be in control.
As the ritual continued, I forced myself to remain calm, to keep my expression neutral. I would play their game, would let them think they had won. But I would find a way to turn this to my advantage. I always do.