“Just useless junk,” I replied, my voice steady.

He didn’t question me further. Instead, he draped an arm over my shoulder, guiding me back toward the apartment.

As the elevator doors closed behind us, I caught a glimpse of the garbage truck pulling up, its mechanical arm lifting the bin and dumping its contents into the compactor. The box was gone.

Ezra didn’t notice my lingering glance. “The place feels emptier,” he commented, looking around as we stepped inside. “Where’s the mug I always use? And the cushions are missing too.”

I opened my mouth to respond, but his phone buzzed with another message. He glanced at it, his face lighting up as he read whatever Lyra had sent. Without a word, he headed to his study, the door clicking shut behind him.

“Cressida,” he called from inside. “I’ve got work to do. Don’t wait up for me.”

I stood in the hallway for a moment, staring at the closed door. He hadn’t even looked at me properly since he got back. My chest tightened, but I swallowed the ache and went to the bedroom alone.

As the clock struck midnight, my phone buzzed under my pillow.

“Happy birthday, Cressida!”

The messages flooded in—well wishes from my parents, Dorian, and even a few old friends from the pack. But the one person who should have remembered—the wolf I had spent six years of my life with—hadn’t said a word.

Ezra Silvan had forgotten my birthday entirely.

….

Because he had more pressing matters to attend to.

I paused the movie playing on my laptop, the soft glow from the screen illuminating the dim room. A notification in the bottom corner grabbed my attention—a message on Ezra Silvan’s account, left open on my device. His conversation with someone named Lyra blinked to life, and I hesitated, my curiosity warring with my better judgment.

The messages were relentless, flowing from past to present and even touching on plans for the future. Not once did Ezra mention me, not even in passing. It was as if I didn’t exist in his life, as if I were nothing more than a placeholder to fill the void she had left behind.

My wolf stirred uneasily, growling faintly in the back of my mind. The betrayal felt deeper with each word I read. I finally pressed the power button, shutting the laptop down with trembling fingers. That night, I fell asleep to silence, a hollow ache where my trust in him used to be.

---

The next morning, the doorbell jolted me awake. Groggy and disoriented, I rubbed my eyes and shuffled into the living room. To my surprise, Ezra was already awake, standing by the door with a bouquet of wildflowers in one hand and a small cake in the other.

“Cressida, did you order a cake? Were you craving something sweet?” he asked, his golden eyes glinting with mild amusement.

I froze in place, his words hitting me like a slap. How could he be so clueless?

“It’s my birthday,” I said softly, my voice steady despite the turmoil inside me. “A friend must have sent it.”

The room fell silent as the truth settled over him. His gaze flicked to the calendar on the wall, his expression shifting from amusement to realization. July 12th. He had forgotten my birthday.

For a moment, guilt flickered across his face, but it was fleeting. Ezra quickly set down the flowers and cake, his casual charm returning like a mask. “Your birthday,” he murmured, stepping closer to guide me back toward the bedroom. “Let’s do something special. I’ll take you out. What do you feel like doing today?”

I shook my head, exhaustion weighing on me. “There’s no need. We can just stay in.”

But Ezra wouldn’t take no for an answer. He pulled open the closet, retrieving a dress I hadn’t worn in years—a flowing, emerald-green gown that matched the color of my wolf’s eyes. “Here,” he said, holding it out with a smile that once would have melted my heart. “Get ready. Let’s make today memorable.”

I didn’t have the energy to argue. After freshening up, I followed him out.

We spent the morning at one of the pack’s favorite cafes, sharing pastries and tea. From there, he dragged me to a theater to see a film I had little interest in, and then we wandered through the town square.

At one point, while I waited outside a shop, I saw him on his phone, speaking in hushed tones. My wolf perked up, uneasy at his body language. Ezra didn’t seem to notice me watching as he arranged for something to be delivered—a necklace I had admired in a catalog weeks ago.

I clenched my fists, my claws threatening to extend. He remembered the necklace but had forgotten my birthday. The thought stung more than I wanted to admit.

I tried to keep a neutral expression as the day wore on, but my lack of enthusiasm must have been obvious. Ezra tousled my hair playfully, his tone light. “Why does the birthday girl seem so down? Not happy with the plans?”

I forced a smile, but his words grated on me. Looking back, it was clear Ezra never truly saw me as an equal partner. He treated me like a younger wolf to be protected, a sister to be coddled rather than a mate to be cherished.

As we prepared to head back, he suddenly turned and flagged down a taxi. “Wait,” he said, raising an eyebrow at my puzzled look. “I have one more surprise. You’ve always wanted to meet my packmates, right? Well, today’s the day.”

The surprise left me stunned. For years, Ezra had avoided introducing me to his friends, always brushing off the idea with vague excuses. Now, guilt seemed to drive him into including me, as if this gesture would erase everything else.

The cab climbed the winding hill toward a secluded lodge. By the time we arrived, my wolf was on edge, sensing something I couldn’t quite place. Ezra pushed open the heavy door, and a burst of confetti rained down as voices shouted, “Happy Birthday!”

A group of wolves emerged from the shadows, their smiles wide and welcoming. Ezra grinned, clearly pleased with himself, and pulled me close, his arm draped protectively over my shoulders.

“Careful,” he teased his packmates. “Don’t scare her. She’s...”

His words trailed off as his eyes locked onto someone in the crowd. His entire demeanor shifted, the light in his expression dimming as his grip on me loosened.

She stepped forward confidently, her presence commanding. Lyra.

“I hope I’m not intruding,” she said with a faint smile, her tone smooth and unbothered. “I heard you were hosting a birthday celebration for your girlfriend, Ezra. I thought I’d join in. It’s been so long since we’ve all been together.”

Ezra’s packmates shifted uncomfortably under his icy glare, clearly regretting whatever had led to this situation.

Feeling the tension rise, I extended my hand to Lyra, forcing a polite smile. “Welcome,” I said evenly. “Nice to meet you. I’m Cressida.”

Lyra studied me with a faint smirk before taking my hand. Her eyes gleamed with something I couldn’t quite place—amusement, perhaps? Or pity?

“Lyra,” she introduced herself. “I’m an old... friend of Ezra’s.”

She tilted her head slightly, her eyes narrowing as she took a step back. “Has anyone ever told you, Cressida, that we look a bit alike?”