The iron gate of the cell groaned as the Enforcer turned the heavy brass key, the sound rattling against the damp stone walls. Eva stepped through the threshold, her boots steady against the wet floorboards as she led the way back up the narrow stairs.

Killian walked behind her, his heavy leather boots crunching on the loose gravel while his dark gold eyes remained pinned to the back of her neck. Tanya followed at a distance, her red silk skirts gathered tightly in her hands to keep them from dragging through the grease stains of the lower corridor.

The air in the Grand Hall had grown cold, the high tier warriors standing in a silent semicircle around the central hearth. The sacred silver flame on the stone altar had completely vanished, replaced by the deep, orange glow of the ordinary birch logs in the ceremonial fire pit.

"The elders are waiting for the formal banishment scroll," the Chief Beta said, gesturing toward the mahogany table where the black leather documents lay open.

Instead of begging for mercy, Eva walked calmly past the elders, her leather boots taking her straight toward the center of the room. She reached into the large canvas supply sack she had retrieved from her old bunk, her hands dragging out a heavy, dark mass of fabric.

It was the thick, black wool winter coat Killian had thrown over her bleeding shoulders two winters ago.

She held the heavy coat by the silver wolf-head clasp, the fabric still carrying the faint, distant scent of woodsmoke and old pine earth from the northern borders. She didn't look at the Vance family crest embroidered on the shoulder lining as she lifted the heavy garment above the fire pit.

With a slow, deliberate drop of her wrists, she let the black wool fall into the center of the roaring logs.

The dry birch wood popped violently, a sudden wall of yellow flames jumping upward as the thick wool began to scorch and blacken. The silver-plated clasp melted under the intense heat, the liquid metal dripping down into the white ash like silver tears.

Killian’s entire frame locked up, a sudden, hollow panic striking his chest with enough physical force to make him take half a step backward. His dark gold pupils dilated wildly, his fingers bunching into tight fists at his sides as the final emotional tie between their wolves was severed in the fire.

The thick, heavy scent of the burning wool coat quickly filled the rafter beams, suffocating Killian’s inner wolf, Thorin, with a crushing wave of sudden guilt. The ancient, predatory spirit inside him thrashed against his ribs, whining in deep, agonizing confusion as the familiar scent of his own scent-mark was systematically erased from the world.

"What are you doing?" Tanya shouted, taking a sharp step forward from the stage stairs, her jaw tight. "That belongs to the Alpha bloodline!"

Eva turned her head toward the high tier, her face completely pale under the torchlight, but her eyes remained fixed in a still, freezing Scorpio ice.

"I, Evangeline Frost, declare myself a free rogue," Eva said, her steady voice carrying clearly over the heavy crackle of the burning fabric. "The Blackwood Pack has no claim on my blood, no claim on my labor, and no claim on my future."

The elders rumbled in deep disapproval, two of the older warriors reaching for their iron-rimmed shields as if waiting for an order to strike her down.

Killian didn't give the command; his jaw remained locked in stone, his eyes tracking the dark crimson shadow that still lingered in the depth of her black pupils. His breath came out in short, ragged gasps, the smell of the burning wool making his throat feel raw and constricted.

Eva didn't wait for the council to sign the banishment scroll, nor did she look back at the white wool rug she had ruined hours before.

She turned her back on the altar, her shoulders squared beneath her frayed tunic as she walked past the rows of silent warriors toward the heavy front doors. The kitchen staff watched from the deep shadows of the pantry corridor, none of them daring to stretch out a hand as she passed their benches.

She thrust the heavy oak exterior doors open herself, the brass hinges screaming against the cold mountain wind that instantly rushed into the hall.

The winter blizzard had suddenly turned into a heavy, freezing rain, the massive drops slamming against the stone steps and washing away the grey river slush in the courtyard.

Eva stepped across the threshold without a single pause, walking straight out into the pouring rain while the heavy iron-studded gates remained wide open behind her, leaving Blackwood behind forever.