The night air was thick with unspoken goodbyes and the scent of rain, though none fell. Liam stood by his car, the metallic tang of unfulfilled desire heavy on his tongue. Cara, illuminated by the distant porch light, had tears tracing paths down her cheeks, a stark contrast to the joy that should have bloomed with the finding of her fated mate. He had tried, he had truly tried.

"Don't," Liam's voice was a low rasp, cutting through her soft apology. He had known the risk, the slim chance, but the pull of her spirit had been too strong to ignore. He met Rik's gaze over Cara's shoulder—the man, surprisingly, offered a silent understanding. It was a respect Liam doubted he could reciprocate.

His hands found Cara's shoulders, a final, anchoring touch. "You always wanted to find your fated mate. Rik is a good man. He'll be a good Alpha and a good mate to you. And if he isn't," Liam's eyes flicked back to Rik, a silent challenge in their depths, "You know where to find me."

He wiped her tears, a gesture born of habit and affection, before pressing a small, wrapped box into her hands. "Happy birthday." He watched her pull out the locket, then open it to reveal the cherished, impossible photographs—her parents, young and vibrant, holding their infant daughter. A soft gasp, then fresh tears.

"I have to go away for a while. Take care of yourself." The words were clipped, a shield against the pain. As Rik stepped forward, arm wrapping around Cara, Liam nodded once, a gesture of resignation, and turned. The car started with a low rumble, the sound a prelude to a new hunt, a new obsession. Eli Gunnar. The Banished Beta. It was time for him to pay.