CHAPTER 406: HOPE TO HATE

Katrina~

As the days stretched into an endless void without Vincent, my hope—that fragile, flickering flame I’d clung to—began to sputter and die. At first, it was a quiet erosion, like waves lapping at a crumbling cliff. I’d wake up each morning, my eyes heavy with unshed tears, staring at the empty side of the bed where his shadow should have lingered. I’d whisper to the empty air, "You’ll come back, Vincent. You have to." But he didn’t. Weeks turned into a month, and that hope curdled into something darker, sharper: anger. It started as a simmer in my chest, a low burn that made my celestial magic flare unpredictably, sending sparks of light dancing across my skin like angry fireflies. Then it boiled over into hate—raw, unfiltered hate directed at him, at myself, at the cruel twist of fate that had bound us only to tear us apart.

I hated Vincent most of all. How dare he reject me like that? He’d sworn to me, back when we first met, in this very room, that he would never turn away from our bond. I could still hear his voice, that charming, dangerous lilt that wrapped around my heart like velvet chains. "Katrina," he’d murmured, his dark eyes locking onto mine as he traced a finger along my hair, "I see you—the fire in your soul, the light that could banish my shadows. I’ll never reject you. You’re mine, and I’m yours, no matter what wars rage around us." We’d laughed then, our hushed laughter echoing through the room, his strength pulling me close in a kiss that tasted of happiness and promise. But now? He’d severed our mate bond in a fit of rage, abandoning me to chase after his sister, leaving me with this gaping wound in my soul. "Liar," I muttered to the mirror one evening, my reflection pale and hollow-cheeked, my hands trembling as I gripped the vanity. "You promised, Vincent. You swore to me. And you left me anyway."

The hate turned inward, a venomous serpent coiling around my heart. I hated myself for being so weak, for letting the mate bond’s pain consume me until I could barely breathe. Each breath felt like shards of glass in my lungs, the rejection echoing through every vein. My confidant, that fierce beautiful wolf I inherited from parents, had gone silent three weeks ago—the agony of rejection was too much for her to bear. I’d tried calling to her, pleading in the quiet of my mind: "Come on, girl. Fight with me. We can shift, run it out under the moon." But there was only emptiness, a void where her growl used to rumble. Without her, I felt halved, incomplete, like a queen without her crown. And because of that weakness, I’d pushed everyone away. My family—the ones who loved me fiercely, who would move mountains for me—was now in shambles, scattered across realms searching for a boy who might never return.

I remembered the last time I’d seen Mom, her celestial grace radiating like a beacon even in her worry. She’d cornered me in the palace library two days ago, her eyes— so much like mine, but wiser, etched with prophecies unseen—pleading as she reached for my hand. "Katrina, my darling," she’d said softly, her voice a melody of light and concern, "talk to me. Your father’s out there with Uncle Sebastian, tearing through shadows and voids. Alexander’s leading the packs. We’re all pulling together for you, for Vincent. But you’re shutting us out. Let me heal you—just a touch of my magic."

I’d yanked my hand away, the anger surging like a tidal wave. "Heal me? Mom, you can’t fix this! You and Dad hated him from the start. If you’d accepted him, maybe he wouldn’t have run off. Now everyone’s out there risking their lives for him, and it’s my fault. I’m the weak link, the one who fell for the enemy. Just... leave me be."

Her face had crumpled, that divine rage flickering in her eyes before she suppressed it. "You’re not weak, Katrina. You’re our light, our fierce princess. We love you—Zane and I would die for you. Alexander adores you; he’s always said you’re the fire to his steady flame. Don’t let this poison you."

But I’d stormed out, leaving her standing there, her celestial aura dimming with hurt. Dad had tried too, his massive frame filling my doorway like a protective wall. "Kat," he’d growled, his voice rough with emotion, eyes glowing with that Lycan intensity, "your brother’s worried sick. Alex keeps saying, ’She’s my little sis; I should be out there finding Vincent myself.’ But we’re a pack—we do this together. Come train with us. Let your wolf out."

"My wolf’s gone silent, Dad," I’d snapped back, tears choking me. "Because of him. Because of all this. And now you’re all in danger, hunting shadows that might swallow you whole. It’s my mess—why should you clean it up?"

He’d stepped closer, his hand gentle on my shoulder despite his strength. "Because you’re family. And family doesn’t abandon each other. Remember when you were little, and you’d challenge Alex to races? You’d lose, but laugh and say, ’Next time, big bro!’ That’s the Katrina I know—impulsive, loyal, unbreakable."

I’d shrugged him off, the hate for myself bubbling over. "That girl’s gone. Just go, Dad. Find him or don’t—I don’t care anymore."

Lies. All lies. But the words had driven them away, fracturing our once-unbreakable bond. Nick, my best friend, had tried again yesterday, banging on my door with that cocky persistence. "Kat! Open up! Winter’s with me—we brought those ridiculous chocolate eclairs you love. Come on, let’s trash-talk like old times. Remember when we pranked Professor Thorne? Turned his beard pink? You laughed so hard you snorted milk out your nose."

I’d leaned against the door, my voice muffled but venomous. "Go away, Nick. You and Winter—your perfect mate bond is what started this. She ran, Vincent followed, and now everything’s ruined. My family’s out there because of you two."

Winter’s voice had chimed in, soft and enigmatic, laced with her own guilt softened by love. "Katrina, please. I miss my brother too. Nick and I... we’re not perfect. But we hold on. Vincent will too. He loves you; I saw it in his eye, the way they softened around you."

"Love?" I’d laughed bitterly, the sound hollow. "He rejected me, Winter. Abandoned me. And I’m left here, a burden to everyone. Just... enjoy your happiness. Leave me to mine."

They’d left after that, Nicholas muttering, "Damn it, Kat. We’re not giving up on you." But I was giving up on myself. As the isolation deepened, my mind spiraled into darker territories. What if I wasn’t here? What if I removed myself from the equation? Everyone’s life would be better—Mom and Dad could focus on the kingdom without worrying about their broken daughter. Alexander could shine as the prince he was meant to be, without my shadow looming in resentment. Nicholas and Winter could build their future untainted by my pain. Even Vincent... maybe he’d find peace in whatever void held him, free from the pull of a mate he clearly didn’t want.

The thought started as a whisper, but grew into a roar. I didn’t want to be a bother anymore. At first, I considered leaving the palace for good—packing a bag, slipping out under the cover of night, vanishing into the wilds where my Lycan blood might sustain me. But I knew better. Mom’s eyes would pinpoint me in seconds; Dad’s kingdom would track my scent across realms. Uncle Sebastian’s vampire speed would have him at my side before I crossed the borders. No, escape wasn’t an option. There was only one way to end the pain, to lift the weight from those I loved.

That fateful evening, as dusk painted the sky in bruises of purple and gold, I dragged my pale, weakened body from the bed. My limbs felt like lead, each step a Herculean effort, my hair hanging limp and tangled around my face. The palace corridors were silent, the guards patrolling distant wings, leaving me in blessed solitude. I shuffled to the bedroom door, my hand trembling as I turned the lock with a decisive click. "No interruptions," I whispered to the empty room, as if justifying it to ghosts. "This is for them. For everyone."

Weakly, I made my way to the adjoining bathroom, the marble floors cold against my bare feet, sending shivers up my spine. The air smelled of lavender from my last bath—days ago? Weeks? Time had blurred. I turned the faucet with numb fingers, the water gushing into the oversized tub like a torrent of release. Steam rose in lazy curls, fogging the mirrors, turning the room into a hazy dreamscape. I watched it fill, the surface rippling invitingly, and for a moment, I imagined Vincent’s voice echoing in my mind: "Katrina, my love, don’t do this. Fight, like you always do." But it was just my imagination, a cruel echo. He wasn’t coming back.

I couldn’t shift—not even partially. My wolf’s silence was absolute, a betrayal that stung deeper than any blade. "Why won’t you help me?" I murmured to her absence, tears slipping down my cheeks. "Just a claw, something sharp..." But nothing stirred. Desperate, I turned to the vanity table, my reflection a gaunt stranger with hollow blue eyes staring back. My fingers closed around a sharp hair accessory—a ornate silver pin, its edge glinting wickedly under the chandelier’s light. It was meant for adorning braids, a gift from Alexander on my sixteenth birthday. "Perfect for your fiery hair, sis," he’d said with a grin, ruffling my hair. "Makes you look like a warrior princess." Now, it would serve a darker purpose.

Clutching it like a talisman, I returned to the tub. The water was warm, almost soothing, as I stripped off my nightgown and stepped in, sinking into its embrace. It lapped at my skin, turning my pale flesh pink with heat, the steam wrapping around me like a lover’s arms—arms that weren’t Vincent’s. I submerged up to my neck, my hair fanning out like blood in the water, and positioned the pin over my wrist. The vein pulsed faintly, a reminder of the life I was about to extinguish.

"I’m sorry," I whispered to the empty air, imagining my family’s faces. "Mom, Dad, Alex... Nick, Winter. Vincent... this is better. No more pain. No more burden." With a deep, shuddering breath, I pressed the sharp edge against my skin and sliced deep. Pain bloomed, sharp and immediate, but it was nothing compared to the ache in my soul. Blood welled up, crimson ribbons swirling into the water, turning it a macabre pink. I watched it spread, mesmerized, as weakness washed over me in waves. The room spun, the lights dimming, and I leaned back, letting the water cradle me as darkness crept in from the edges.