Modric’s POV
Mary Ann walked out of my study without looking back.
For one second, I remained behind the desk, staring at the wedding ring she had left on the wood between us.
The silver band looked impossibly small.
Too small to represent two packs, a political alliance, a mate bond, and every mistake I had made since the day I placed it on her finger.
My wolf raged beneath my skin.
Follow her.
I moved before the command fully formed.
“Mary Ann.”
She had already reached the hallway.
The guards outside my study straightened when I stepped through the door. Mary Ann continued toward the staircase, folders held tightly beneath one arm, her bare left hand resting at her side.
The absence of the ring struck me again.
I caught up with her.
“You cannot simply end the marriage.”
She
