The day before Isaiah and I were supposed to have our marking ceremony, I spotted him through the window, caught in a passionate embrace with Laney, his assistant and an Omega from the Crimson Fang Pack. I didn’t cry or make a scene; I just tossed aside the ring I had in my hand.

His first words when he walked in were, “The marking ceremony tomorrow is off.”

“I know.”

This time, I didn’t bother asking why.

To my surprise, he offered an explanation, “The pack is facing some issues, and I have to go oversee a dispute with a neighboring pack.”

He squeezed my hand slightly, “Araceli, I’ll make it up to you next time.”

His assistant chimed in appropriately, “Ms. Hansen, where can I find Beta Foster’s luggage? I’ll take it downstairs. I don’t want to intrude.”

She glanced at Isaiah with an intense look, as if her eyes were glued to him.

“It’s in the bedroom; take your time packing. I need to go home and pick up a few things.”

Isaiah didn’t try to stop me, only urging me to come back soon.

The next day, as he left for his duty, I booked a flight out of the country.

---

Isaiah still thought I’d wait for him unconditionally like before. This was the third time he promised to reschedule our marking ceremony. We’d been together for eight years, from our first shift to our roles within the pack. He always said he’d mark me after he became Beta, but every time he used pack responsibilities as an excuse to postpone it.

“Araceli, I’ll only mark you in this lifetime; you won’t escape.”

The first time, while I was preparing for the ceremony in the pack’s grand hall, he suddenly told me there was an emergency: a rogue had attacked our borders, and he had to lead the warriors to handle it.

“The marking ceremony will be postponed.”

The second time, he claimed a dispute had arisen with the neighboring pack, and he had to negotiate, or the pack’s safety would be compromised.

Pack duty was his perpetual excuse.

And now, just the night before our marking, he said it again, “Ceremony canceled.”

Isaiah, I longed to mark you, but I won’t mark only you.

That morning, we were supposed to go together to prepare for the ceremony. I stood ready, but he was nowhere to be seen in the hall.

After searching around, I found him on the balcony, on a call.

“Are you really planning to mark her?”

I leaned against the wall; the voice on the phone was crystal clear and all too unsettling.

Isaiah rubbed his temples. “Who? Araceli?

“Of course not.”

The person on the other end chuckled lightly, “You were crazy about her when she first shifted, insisting she was your destined mate. Why are you so hesitant now?

“Were you just pretending all along?”

Isaiah sighed, “Who knows? Back then, she seemed beautiful, a bright young Omega.

“But.” He paused, “Now I’m tired of her; even seeing her once makes me feel sick.”

My excited heartbeat immediately halted, as if a bucket of icy water from the dead of winter was dumped over my head, freezing my blood flow.

All my affection turned into a joke.

The person laughed a few more times, raising their voice, “Why don’t you just reject her already? Your assistant is young, pretty, and soft as a feather. Don’t tell me you haven’t tried her yet.”

Isaiah paused for a few seconds, gazing into the distance, “Keeping her around to kill boredom isn’t bad.”

“Don’t blame me for not reminding you; this is the third time. What excuse can you find this time?”

“Excuses don’t matter; she’ll believe whatever I say.”

They bantered a bit more before someone called them away, and they ended the call, taunting all the while.

Isaiah finished the call and was about to leave; I slipped away to the restroom.

Standing by the sink, the woman in the mirror had a flawlessly made-up face, but her eyes were vacant, like a flower battered by hail.

It turned out everyone knew Isaiah’s proposal was a sham, the excuses were made up, and his assistant was his close confidante.

Yet every time they saw me, they warmly called me “Beta’s mate.”

I thought it was acceptance; behind my back, it was endless mockery.

Like a puppet on stage, they watched as I was toyed with and ridiculed.

I’ve applied for a transfer to the Lunar Crescent Pack, and my flight leaves in three days.

The following day, Freya’s Instagram was brimming with pictures of her and Isaiah being affectionate. They were kissing by the ocean, taking in the view from a Ferris wheel at night, and splurging at high-end stores. Meanwhile, Isaiah’s Facebook was as dull as his excuses, filled only with pack-related photos. Freya responded to one of his posts with a disappointed emoji. To onlookers, it seemed as though Isaiah, the Beta of the Crimson Fang Pack, was just diligently working with his assistant by his side. Little did they know, the young Omega was upset that the man she adored wouldn’t showcase her on his profile like she did with him.

Freya, fresh out of college, wanted the pack to see her romance. That’s why she added me on social media long ago, not bothering to hide her posts from me. Maybe it was supposed to be a show of victory. Numerous comments flooded in, including some playful digs from Isaiah’s close friends.

"Looks like Beta Isaiah’s having a blast with the new girlfriend!"

"Ah, young love!"

I couldn’t help but type a response below: "A perfect pairing of brains and beauty. The scenery’s stunning, and so are the people. Remind Beta Isaiah to take it easy."

Suddenly, the flood of comments came to a standstill, as if splashed with cold water. After a while, Isaiah left a reply: "The young Omega’s never been abroad before. She got a bit too carried away, took a few extra photos."

Isaiah tried calling me, but I didn’t answer. Then a text followed: "Freya was just getting used to the local customs, soaking up some new experiences. Your comment was out of line. She's worried you'll be upset."

"You should delete your comment and explain it to her, or she’ll be stressed all night."

I couldn’t help but scoff in disbelief.

"If your assistant is upset, she’s already being comforted by her Beta, I’m sure. The beauty in your arms should be fine now, Isaiah."

If I guessed right, Freya was probably nestled in Isaiah’s arms right now, crying and seeking reassurance. Just like the night after I left, she had clung to him, sobbing, "Did I upset Araceli?"

Isaiah gently wiped away her tears, lifted her up, and according to the clear surveillance footage I saw, they spent the night cozied up in the honeymoon suite I had booked.

Those words seemed to enrage Isaiah, prompting another call. This time, I answered, and he immediately began scolding.

"Araceli, having a sharp tongue just makes a woman off-putting, even more so."

Even more, huh? He chose his words well, once again showing the underlying contempt he felt for me.

But Isaiah, you disgust me even more.

"Freya is just an innocent young Omega, not like you—older, and much more calculating."

I asked him, "Isaiah, what did I say?"

Isaiah paused, his words faltering. What I said was vague enough. Advising an Omega to be mindful of her Beta’s well-being is perfectly ordinary. Only someone with a guilty conscience would overthink it, get angry, and lash out first.

It seemed the only way for him to seize the upper hand and speak self-righteously.

I continued calmly, "Or is there something you’re hiding that's making you react so strongly?"

Before Isaiah could reply, a soft, tearful voice came from his side, "I’m sorry, Beta, it's all my fault. Please don’t argue with Araceli. I’ll delete the post now and won’t share anything anymore."

Isaiah snapped with a harsh remark: "Smooth talker. Since you still don’t see your mistake, our marking ceremony is indefinitely postponed. Even someone as young as Freya is more sensible than you."

Then, without waiting for my reply, he abruptly hung up.

I gripped my phone tightly, my fingertips turning white from the pressure. Isaiah spoke with such certainty, backed by his own smug sense of security.

Whenever we argued, I would be the first to back down and apologize, feeling sorry for how hard he worked, not wanting him to come home to more trouble. In his mind, as long as he completed whatever he deemed ‘pack duties’ and returned home looking sour, speaking coldly to me, and giving me a pitying look, I would cater to him. I’d even make a spread of his favorite dishes, pleading with him to eat.

Even his packmates believed I couldn’t live without him.

"Araceli will make up with Beta Isaiah within three days of a fight."

"An Omega who acts like that is something else."

"I used to envy Beta Isaiah at first, but after seeing it so much, she’s like a loyal puppy, never getting mad no matter how much you tease her."

"That’s why you don’t have to treat her like a person, hahaha."

I let out a bitter laugh.

The signs had been there all along.

If Isaiah truly respected me, would his packmates dare say such things right in front of him?

It was because he was the one who genuinely saw me as nothing more than a performing puppet, there for his amusement.

I was just caught up in the fantasy of the mate bond, living an absurd life.