My daughter suffered a severe injury during a pack training session, and we needed the expertise of Dr. Samuels, a renowned healer, for her surgery. Desperate, I reached out to my mate, Malik, the Alpha of our pack.

He responded coldly through our mind link, "I have an important meeting with the council. Handle it yourself, and don’t bother me with such trivial matters."

I was left to watch helplessly as my daughter, Ella, underwent an amputation, her small body trembling on the operating table.

That evening, while packing my bags, I found a receipt for a candlelit dinner in Malik’s suit pocket, along with two torn condom wrappers. His so-called important meeting was nothing but a romantic dinner with someone else, followed by more than just a few hours of pleasure.

Calmly, I called my grandmother, Louise, a respected elder in the Seabrook pack. "Grandma, I’ve made up my mind. Next month, I’ll return to take over your embroidery shop."

On the other end, Louise’s voice was filled with warmth and relief. "Oh, my dear, you’ve finally decided to come back."

Hearing a sound behind me, I quickly ended the call. The bathroom door opened, and through the steam, Jalen, a Gamma in Malik’s pack, emerged, wrapped in a towel. He frowned at me and asked, "Where are my clothes? Why didn’t you put them in the bathroom beforehand?"

"Sorry, I was at the healer’s den this afternoon and forgot," I replied, turning to the closet to fetch a clean set for him. He took the clothes and began to dress, pausing for a moment as if he had just remembered something. He glanced at me and asked in a detached manner, "How’s Ella doing?"

"The healer said... she can recover," I answered, avoiding his gaze, my voice hoarse.

Ella had fallen during a training exercise, her leg severely injured. She was rushed to the nearest healer’s den. That afternoon, the healer told me that we should try to get Dr. Samuels, who had just returned from a conference abroad, to perform the surgery, as it might save her leg. Despite my efforts, I couldn’t secure his help, and Ella ended up needing the amputation.

I personally wheeled her into the operating room, watching her pale little face, my heart aching as if it was being torn apart. Yes, she can recover, but Ella’s leg was gone forever.

"Okay," he replied tersely, now dressed and back to his business-like tone, "Submit the medical expenses to my assistant, Mr. Lee, for reimbursement."

"Alright," I said, suppressing the tumult inside, keeping my voice steady.

The next day, following procedure, I photographed Ella’s medical bills and sent them to Mr. Lee, Malik’s Beta assistant. His reply was prompt, "Madam, the Alpha requires all reimbursements to go through the proper channels. Since it’s past today’s submission deadline, the documents will be presented for approval tomorrow morning. If you’re in a hurry, you may have to come to the office in person."

Once again, the same story.

"Just process it through the usual channels."

I put down my phone and began packing. Ella would need care for the next few months, but she could be discharged soon.

That afternoon, I opened Facebook, and a new post immediately caught my eye. It was from Everly, an Omega in Malik’s pack, posted just moments ago. The picture showed a collection of receipts next to an elegant dessert and a cup of coffee, captioned: "Thanks to the boss for the instant approval and the afternoon treat, thrilled!"

I enlarged the photo, seeing several lines of travel expenses, and was momentarily disoriented. Some people don’t need to follow his rules. Some people can interrupt him, even with trivial matters. But that person wasn’t me. Nor was it Ella.

A wave of nausea surged through me, and I rushed to the bathroom to retch, but nothing came out. Only the bitter taste of bile lingered from my throat to the depths of my heart.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting the pack’s territory in a soft orange glow, Jalen, the Gamma of the Blackwood Pack, appeared at the dining table, a rare sight in itself. He carried a gift box, his usual stern demeanor softened ever so slightly. “I heard about Ella’s injury,” he said, his voice uncharacteristically gentle. “This is for her.”

I accepted the box with a nod, unwrapping it to reveal a sturdy model car, its craftsmanship undeniable. Yet, it felt misplaced—a gift more suited to Everly’s nephew than my daughter. Suppressing a sigh, I set it aside, my fingers brushing against the smooth surface.

Jalen paused mid-bite of his roast beef, his sharp eyes catching the flicker of disappointment on my face. He cleared his throat, steering the conversation away from the gift. “What happened during her training session? You need to be more vigilant with her.”

I set my utensils down with deliberate care, dabbing my lips with a napkin before meeting his gaze. My tone was calm but laced with an edge. “Vigilant with my own child?”

“Five years, Jalen,” I continued, my voice steady though my heart ached. “How many pack gatherings have you attended with her? Did you ever see her first shift? When the pack held the annual moon run, where were you?”

Even when Ella was injured, it was me who stayed by her side, tending to her wounds, investigating the incident alone. In the quiet of the healer’s den, holding her trembling form, I’d asked, “How much did it hurt, sweetheart, when you fell during the run?”

Through tears, she whispered, “Mom, they were saying Dad doesn’t care about me anymore, that he has someone else. They pushed me…”

The words had felt like a knife twisting in my chest, each syllable a reminder of how much I’d failed to shield her from the pack’s cruelty. All I could do was hold her tighter, my own tears blending with hers.

Jalen’s expression hardened, his tone icy. “Zoe, keep your composure. You can be upset, but I don’t have time for this.”

“When have you ever had time for me?” I retorted softly, standing up to leave.

Yes, I’d been the one who first fell for Malik, the Alpha of the Blackwood Pack, and endured all this for so long. But everyone has their breaking point.

Jalen watched me leave, his frown deepening, though he said nothing.

Later that evening, as Emmitt, a Delta warrior and my trusted driver, took me to the healer’s den to stay with Ella, he handed me a container. “Ma’am, Mr. Lynch wanted me to deliver this to you and Miss Ella. It’s your late-night snack.”

The warmth of the container seeped into my hands, and I hesitated for a moment before glancing at my phone. I was about to message Malik when I saw him in one of Everly’s posts.

“Didn’t expect to be gifted homemade spiced honey cake by the Alpha when feeling unwell! I’m definitely keeping this little gift.” The picture showed those familiar hands, awkwardly holding a slice of cake.

Having been mated to Malik for nearly eight years, I knew he had never stepped foot in the kitchen—not for Ella and me, certainly.

I turned off my phone and told Emmitt, “Let’s go. Ella’s waiting for me.”

For two weeks, I stayed near the healer’s den, resting at a nearby lodge, ignoring the routines of preparing Malik’s clothes and meals. He never mentioned it.

Occasionally, I returned to the pack house to gather fresh clothes for Ella and me. Many of our belongings were already packed, sent to my grandmother Louise’s place in the Seabrook Pack.

Perhaps Malik noticed. He transferred a large sum to my account, with a note: *For new clothes.*

Considering Ella’s future treatments, I accepted it.

Over the weekend, I came back for more belongings. To my surprise, Jalen showed up.

My heart skipped a beat, and I discreetly pushed down some summer clothes, half-turning to shield them from his view.

“Zoe,” he began, his tone businesslike, “Everly secured a major deal for the pack. I promised her a special thank-you gift.”

“Your embroidery skills are unmatched,” he said with a hint of pride. “Why don’t you make her a custom-embroidered dress? It would express the pack’s gratitude.”

Clenching my fingers, I smiled, meeting his gaze directly.

The discomfort on Jalen’s face was clear as he asked, “Is there a problem?”

I quietly asked, “When do you need it?”

“By next month’s pack gala.”

He spoke with such expectation, as if it were a simple task I was obligated to fulfill.

Numb with heartache, I nodded stiffly, “Alright.”

Let it be the farewell gift to our seven-year mate bond. At least once, we shared moments of love.

On the eve of the annual pack gala, Everly arrived at my home to try on the custom embroidered evening gown I had crafted for her. The ivory silk fabric, adorned with intricate gold thread patterns at the hem and cuffs, shimmered under the light as she twirled in front of the mirror, her expression brimming with satisfaction. I stepped forward to make the final adjustments, my fingers deftly smoothing the fabric.

As I worked, Everly leaned in closer, her breath warm against my ear. "Zoe," she said softly, her voice dripping with faux concern, "have you noticed how exhausted the Gamma has been lately? The pack’s training and defense duties are overwhelming, and I’m the only one who can help ease his burden and keep him company. You’ve been so preoccupied with Ella and the embroidery shop—it’s no wonder you haven’t noticed."

Her words were a calculated mix of sweetness and venom. Then, as if remembering herself, she added with a feigned apology, "Oh, I’m sorry, Zoe. I forgot you haven’t been around much to see how hard he’s been working."

I stepped back, putting distance between us, and met her smug gaze. "Miss Graham," I replied evenly, "you’re very thoughtful. No wonder the Gamma values your support."

Her eyes gleamed with triumph at my apparent lack of reaction. She ran her fingers over the embroidery on the gown, her tone almost wistful. "The craftsmanship is exquisite. I wish I had your skill, Zoe. But I suppose all I can do is help the Gamma secure more resources for the pack."

"Practice makes perfect," I replied simply, though my chest tightened at her words.

That evening, I attended the gala as the Gamma’s mate, though the title felt hollow now. The grand hall was filled with elegantly dressed werewolves, their laughter and chatter mingling with the clink of glasses. My eyes drifted to Everly, who stood in the ivory gown I had made, speaking to a young boy. The child, around six years old, bore a faint resemblance to her—perhaps a cousin or nephew. He was engrossed with a toy wolf figurine, occasionally looking up to beam at Everly, who smiled back at him.

She had brought a child to the event. A pang of bitterness struck me. There had been a pack family day once, when I’d wanted to bring Ella to see where her father worked. Ella had just started training and was eager to show her father her progress. But Jalen’s response had been cold, his tone sharp. "The training grounds are for warriors, not for children."

Not for children. I repeated those words in my mind, the sting still fresh. It seemed it wasn’t the presence of children that mattered, but who brought them.

As the Gamma of the pack, Jalen took the stage to give his speech, concluding with high praise for Everly, crediting her with securing alliances and resources for the pack. On cue, an assistant handed him a large bouquet of vibrant red roses. Jalen hesitated for a moment, his brow furrowing slightly, but then he passed the bouquet to Everly, who stood beside him.

She accepted it with a shy smile, drawing applause from the crowd below. Whispers and knowing glances followed.

"Did you see that? The Gamma gave her roses!"

"First time he’s done something like that at a gala, isn’t it?"

"Shh, keep it down. The Gamma’s mate is still here…"

"Does it matter? It’s clear who’s really important to him now."

The whispers were quiet but sharp enough to cut through the noise and reach my ears. I stood in the corner, a champagne glass in hand, watching the pair on stage. Seven years as his mate, and I had never received so much as a single flower in public. One Valentine’s Day, I had dropped hints, hoping he’d understand, only to be met with a frown.

"Zoe," he had said, his tone dismissive, "we’ve been mated for years. Do we really need to act like pups in love?"

No, we don’t.

I should have realized then that some bonds, once broken, could never be mended. To cling to them any longer would only bring more pain.

When the gala ended, we returned home. Jalen seemed in an unusually good mood, even complimenting me as he tossed his jacket onto the sofa. "The event went well tonight. Nice job, Zoe."

Then, as if remembering, he asked, "Where’s the reimbursement form? Bring it for me to sign."

I turned to retrieve the form I had prepared earlier, nestled within it was the mate rejection agreement. Jalen leaned against the sofa, took the papers, and without looking, signed his name.

"I, Jalen Lynch, Gamma of the Silvermoon Pack, reject you, Zoe Lynch, as my mate," I whispered in my mind, the words burning like fire even though they remained unspoken. But the bond between us, once unbreakable, now felt like a fragile thread ready to snap.