"Elara, what are you saying?!" Maria's voice trembled with disbelief as her wide eyes locked onto the young girl before her. "Why would you even think of living like a rogue, my child? You… your mark is already gone. You are no longer bound to Lucian. You can live freely within the pack, with an identity of your own!"
Her tone was urgent, laced with both shock and fear. The very idea that Elara had even entertained such a thought shook her to her core.
"Elara," Maria continued, her hands clutching the hem of her dress as though grounding herself, "living as a rogue is difficult even for those who have their wolves. And you… you don't even have a wolf, my dear child. How will you protect yourself? Do you know how ruthless rogues are? How merciless they can be? And the packs—" her voice broke, trembling as more tears welled in her eyes, "—the packs are wary, even hateful, toward rogues. I cannot, I will not, allow you to willingly throw yourself into the hands of death."
