Broken Ring, Broken Bond Chapter 11

Broken Ring, Broken Bond Chapter 11

It was a sunny day in Paris when the verdict came down.

Tessa was ordered to pay damages for commercial defamation and evidence tampering, all her social media accounts were banned across every platform, and all her brand deals were terminated.

Crestmoon Pack Group issued a public apology to me, restored my credit, and paid out all damages.

Julian was forced to step down from his executive position at Crestmoon Pack Group, and the Pack Council publicly questioned his Alpha authority.

I heard his mother, the former Luna Blackwood, transferred most of the shares under his name to keep her own seat on the Pack Council.

My lawyer sent me all these updates.

After reading through everything, I only sent back one line. [Got it.]

Later, Julian mailed me a letter.

The envelope was thick.

My assistant set it on my desk. “Want me to open it?”

I was sanding the band of a new piece I was working on. Fine metal dust settled on the black velvet, like tiny flakes of snow.

I said, “No.”

My assistant hesitated. “Send it back?”

I thought for a minute. “Send it back.”

—

She picked up the letter, then glanced at the return address. “Looks like he moved to a new city.”

I lowered my head and kept sanding. “Mm.”

It didn’t matter how many cities he moved to. They weren’t my business anymore.

A year later, my “Gap” collection won the International New Talent Jewelry Award.

That night at the awards gala, my advisor clinked his glass against mine.

“Aurora, you don’t feel that cold, distant edge you had when you first got here anymore.”

I smiled. “Do I not?”

“Yeah. Back then you looked like you were always one step away from leaving.”

I looked out the window. The lights along the Seine were soft, and a cruise glided slowly past.

“Not anymore.”

“Why not?”

I thought it over. “Because now I know where I’m going.”

I ran into Julian at the airport once when I went back to Crestmoon territory to accept an award.

He stood a long way off, wearing a plain gray jacket. No ring in his

—

hand, no flowers either. He just stood there watching me.

My assistant asked, “Someone you know?”

I looked away. “We used to be.”

My wolf didn’t so much as flicker.

Turned out when you truly let go, it was not hate, and it was not forgiveness. It was your instinct didn’t even bother looking back.

Julian didn’t come over. I didn’t stop walking.

When we brushed past each other, he whispered my name, “Aurora.”

I didn’t slow down.

He said again, “I hope you’re happy.”

This time, he didn’t beg me to turn around.

I pulled my suitcase into the boarding gate. People moved back and forth through the noise of the airport announcement.

I suddenly remembered that night of our three-year anniversary, when I was deleting that formal bonding invitation. My finger hovered over the screen for so long.

Back then I thought I’d lost a whole three years. Later I realized, not every goodbye meant losing something.

Some goodbyes were just giving yourself back to you.

The day after I got back to Paris, I dug that empty ring box out of my old suitcase.

—

There was nothing inside it. A faint indent still marked the inside lining.

I sat by the window staring at it for a long time, then I took it apart and cut out the piece of dark blue velvet from the inside.

My assistant brought in coffee, and she tilted her head at the scissors in my hand. “What are you making?”

I cut the velvet into a small square and set it under the base of my new piece. “A display pad.”

She laughed. “That’s pretty casual.”

I laughed too. “Waste not, want not.”

That afternoon, a young client came into the studio. She wanted a custom single woman’s ring.

“It doesn’t need to be fancy, and it doesn’t need to symbolize love. I want it as a gift for myself.”

I asked her, “Want an engraving?”

She thought for a long time. “Engrave ‘Keep moving forward’.”

I bowed my head and wrote it down. Sunlight spilled across the workbench, and the metal band glowed soft and warm.

Outside the window, someone pushed a flower cart past, roses, daisies, and tulips packed tight together.

I handed her the design sheet to approve. She looked it over and her eyes lit up.

—

“This is exactly what I want.”

I nodded. “Come pick it up in two weeks.”

After the client left, wind blew the white sheer curtains by the window.

The dark blue velvet sat quiet under the display stand, holding the finished broken band ring. A tiny sapphire was set right in the gap.

It wasn’t perfect.

But it was beautiful.

A gap wasn’t failure. It was just the place where the wind could blow back in.

I closed my toolbox, picked up my cold coffee and took a sip.

It was a little bitter.

But it had a faint, sweet aftertaste too.