In the café, Murphy listened intently as I recounted the whole story. Her amber eyes—a trait common among Deltas—narrowed with fury, her canines slightly bared as if she wanted to tear Timothy apart with her bare hands. As a Delta, her loyalty to the pack was unwavering, but her loyalty to me, her best friend, burned even fiercer.

"Alpha Timothy is such a jerk," she muttered, stabbing her fork aggressively into the spiced honey cake in front of her, as though it could somehow vent her rage. Her voice dropped to a growl, low and dangerous, but still respectful enough to use his title. "Iliana, what’s your next move?"

I gazed absentmindedly out the window at the bustling streets, the scent of freshly baked bread from the bakery next door mingling with the faint floral aroma of my own mate scent—a scent Timothy had once claimed to love. My wolf stirred faintly in the back of my mind, a silent but persistent presence reminding me of the bond that still lingered despite his betrayal. Slowly, I responded, "I want to plan a little surprise for him on his birthday."

Murphy’s face lit up at my words, her Delta instincts kicking in as she slapped the table with enthusiasm. Her voice was full of excitement, though her eyes still burned with a protective fire. "Perfect! I’m all in. Just let me know what you need; I’ve got your back."

I shared my plan with her, and she nodded along, her sharp features softening slightly as she absorbed every detail. At the end, she added with determination, "Iliana, count me in. Once we’re done with this, let’s take a trip to the Alps together. A run in the mountains might do us both some good."

Her words were a subtle reminder of our nature—our need to connect with the wild, to run free in our wolf forms even as we navigated the complexities of our human lives. Her eyes were full of anticipation as she looked at me, and I realized she was concerned about how I was handling everything. As our eyes met, a small smile appeared on my face, though it didn’t quite reach my heart.

"Deal," I said, my voice steady despite the ache in my chest. My wolf let out a low, approving rumble, a silent acknowledgment of the strength it took to keep going.

When Timothy came home that evening, I was just setting the last bowl of soup on the dining table. He walked up behind me, his presence immediately commanding the room as always, his Alpha aura wrapping around me like a heavy cloak. His arms slid around my waist, and he rested his chin on my shoulder, giving a gentle nuzzle.

"Having a Luna is such a blessing," he murmured, his voice low and warm against my ear. "Coming home to a warm meal, to you."

As he leaned in closer, I caught a whiff of an unfamiliar scent—something floral, faint but unmistakable. It wasn’t mine. My wolf stirred in the back of my mind, a low growl of suspicion that I quickly suppressed. My body tensed, but I kept my composure, gently moving his hands away.

"Go wash up, Alpha," I said softly, using his title out of habit and respect, though the word felt heavier on my tongue than usual.

He turned away, and as soon as his back was to me, the smile I had been holding slipped away, leaving my face cold and stern.

Once we were seated at the table, he barely looked up from his phone, tapping away with occasional smiles, his mind clearly elsewhere. The dining room, usually a place of comfort and connection, felt hollow now, the silence between us thick with unspoken tension.

I glanced over, pretending to be curious. "What’s got you so amused, Alpha?"

He snapped his head up, our eyes locking for a brief moment. I saw a flicker of panic in his dark eyes, but he quickly masked it with a casual smile.

"Just some pack members chatting in the group chat," he said, his tone light. "Some silly jokes."

Playing along, I feigned interest. "Let me see."

He immediately switched off the screen, placing his phone face down on the table with an air of indifference. "Oh, it’s nothing important," he replied, avoiding my gaze. "Let’s eat before the food gets cold."

The light in my eyes dimmed quietly. The once-shy boy I had known in pack school, the one who had confessed his feelings to me with a trembling voice and a blush that rivaled the setting sun, had become someone who could lie without hesitation. In that moment, a wave of disappointment washed over me, heavier than I had ever felt.

The aroma of spiced honey cake mingled with the rich scent of pulled pork and ravioli from our usual Thanksgiving dinner. The Victorian-style dress I wore felt suffocating, tightening around my growing unease. As I sipped my coffee, I couldn’t help but reflect on how the comforting rituals of home—our home, the one we had built together over the years—felt like a distant memory, replaced by this hollow charade.

My wolf growled again, louder this time, her voice sharp in my mind. *He’s hiding something.*

I clenched my fists under the table, my nails digging into my palms. *I know.*

But I forced myself to stay calm, to keep my mask in place. For now, I would play along. I would watch, and wait, and when the time came, I would be ready to face whatever truth lay behind his lies.

After dinner, he volunteered to wash the dishes. I sat on the couch, stealing glances at Alpha Timothy in the kitchen. He was washing up while occasionally checking his phone, a smile often playing on his lips. It was oddly amusing—six years of mate bond couldn’t compete with the excitement of something new.

After cleaning up, he cheerfully brought over a box of spiced honey cake to me. "Luna, I got your favorite tiramisu," he said, using the title that still felt foreign to me. He looked at me with the eager anticipation of a child seeking approval. I’ve always had a sweet tooth, thinking desserts could brighten any day. But now, no sweetness could cut through the bitterness in my heart. I stared blankly at the cake box, the weight of his betrayal pressing down on me.

Seeing me lost in thought, Alpha Timothy gently asked, "Luna, what are you thinking about?" I snapped back to the present and was about to reach for the cake. Just then, his phone, left on the table, started ringing loudly. Before I could see who it was, he quickly grabbed it, as if worried I might see.

My hand dropped open, and the cake fell to the floor with a soft thud. The ringtone kept going, sharp and insistent. In his rush to silence it, he accidentally answered the call.

"Alpha," a soft female voice, choked with tears, floated through the air. I looked up at him, catching a brief flash of panic in his eyes. He quickly lowered the volume to almost inaudible and composed himself, his Alpha aura flickering for a moment before he regained control. He mouthed to me, pointing at the screen, "It’s a colleague," then hurried toward the balcony with the phone in hand, his movements stiff and unnatural.

I sat there, frozen, the crumbs of the cake scattered at my feet. My wolf stirred within me, a low growl of warning I couldn’t ignore. *He’s lying,* she whispered, her voice sharp with distrust. I clenched my fists, forcing myself to stay calm. This wasn’t the first time he’d lied to me, but it was the first time I’d heard her voice so clearly.

The balcony door slid shut behind him, muffling his words but not the tension in the air. I stared at the closed door, the title "Luna" echoing in my mind like a cruel joke. I wasn’t his Luna, not truly. Not when he was out there, whispering reassurances to another she-wolf while I sat here, broken and alone.

The bitterness in my heart grew heavier, and for the first time, I wondered if the Moon Goddess had made a mistake. Or if I had.