POV: Silas

Silas waited in the car while his mate filed to divorce another man.

His wolf considered this proof that human civilization had been a mistake.

“Stop glaring at the courthouse,” Ronan said from the driver’s seat.

“I am looking at it.”

“One gargoyle just resigned.”

Silas did not answer.

Evelyn had gone inside with Miriam fourteen minutes earlier. She had worn a blue dress, flat shoes, and no ring. Before closing the vehicle door, she had leaned back in and kissed Silas once.

Quick. Deliberate. Hers.

He had spent fourteen minutes reliving it and imagining Grant’s death in alternating intervals.

“You know,” Ronan said, “most men would be happy today.”

“Most men are not wolves waiting while their mate asks the state for permission to stop being married to someone who tried to kill her.”

“Fair. Most men also don’t crack a steering wheel at ten eighteen in the morning.”

Silas looked down.

The leather beneath his hand had split.

He released it.

“Add it to the repair list.”

“The club accountant is going to ask whether this counts as mate-related wear.”

“You are the club accountant today.”

“Then I approve it.”

The courthouse doors opened.

Silas was out of the vehicle before he remembered he had promised to wait.

He stopped beside the hood.

Evelyn emerged with Miriam. Her face gave him nothing. The bond gave him everything: relief, nausea, grief, and a strange lightness that hurt more than fear.

Miriam held up a stamped packet.

“Filed,” she said.

Silas wanted to cross the pavement, lift Evelyn into his arms, and carry her somewhere Grant’s name had never existed.

He remained beside the hood.

Evelyn walked to him.

“You stayed,” she said.

“Mostly.”

“He got out of the car so hard the suspension rose two inches,” Ronan called through the window.

“No one asked you,” Silas said.

Evelyn almost smiled. Then her gaze dropped to the papers.

“I thought filing would feel like winning.”

“What does it feel like?”

“Like admitting I stayed long enough to need a court order to leave.”

Silas took one step toward her and stopped.

“May I?”

She moved into his arms before he finished.

He held her in the middle of the courthouse parking lot while strangers walked around them. The bond carried the salt of her tears, but she made no sound.

“You did leave,” he said into her hair. “The papers are not the leaving. They are evidence that you survived it.”

Her fingers tightened in the back of his coat.

“That was dangerously close to being wise.”

“Ronan is contaminating me.”

“I heard that,” Ronan said.

Miriam cleared her throat. “The process server is ready, but there is a complication.”

Grant was not at his lawyer’s office, home, or assigned administrative check-in. His attorney claimed not to know where he was.

Silas knew a lie when he smelled one, even through a phone speaker.

“He’ll go somewhere public,” Evelyn said. “He wants service to look like humiliation, so he can refuse it in front of witnesses.”

“Where?” Miriam asked.

Evelyn looked across the street.

A row of news vans stood outside the county administration building. Grant had scheduled a press conference on police families and “gang intimidation.”

Ronan whistled. “The universe does enjoy timing.”

Miriam called the process server.

Evelyn touched her arm. “No. I want to go.”

“You cannot personally serve your own petition.”

“I know. But he has told every camera I’m confused and being hidden. I want to stand there when he learns I filed.”

Silas’s wolf surged.

“It could be dangerous.”

Evelyn looked at him.

He corrected himself.

“How do you want it handled?”

“You stay beside me. Not in front.”

“Done.”

Grant stood behind a podium decorated with a police-union seal he no longer had permission to use. Three retired officers flanked him. So did a local pastor who appeared to regret every life choice that had brought him there.

“My wife has been targeted by a predatory organization,” Grant told the cameras. “I will not stop fighting until my family is reunited.”

“Then you should read what she filed,” the process server said.

Grant turned.

The envelope touched his chest.

He did not take it.

“I refuse service.”

The server let the packet fall at his feet.

“You have been served.”

Camera shutters erupted.

Grant stared at the papers as if the law had broken a private agreement by obeying Evelyn.

Then he saw her.

Silas felt the change in her pulse, but she did not step back.

He positioned himself at her side.

Grant pointed at the petition. “You think this ends a marriage?”

“It starts ending ours,” Evelyn said.

“I won’t sign it.”

Miriam addressed the nearest camera rather than Grant. “A spouse’s refusal to sign does not prevent a divorce action from proceeding.”