During my birthday gathering, Erik Hawkins, the Lycan Prince and my mate, wrapped his arm around Gracie Shaw, his childhood crush and unattainable dream. He gently patted her belly and turned to me, his voice dripping with false concern. “She’s pregnant. What should we do, darling?” The room fell silent, the tension thick enough to choke on. No one at the table dared to stand up for me, nor did they worry I might make a scene. I stood calmly, my voice steady despite the storm raging inside me. “Congratulations.” Congratulations to him for achieving what he’d always wanted, and congratulations to me for finally letting go. Loving him had long since become a draining effort.

---

An hour had passed since the party was supposed to begin. The dishes were cold, and even the server, a young Delta from our pack, had asked multiple times if it was time to bring out the cake. Seated at the head of the table, I stared at the chat history between me and Erik, lingering on the last message I had sent him that morning: [Will you make it to my birthday?]

To my right, Alpha Ambrose Bell, my father, sat with his jaw clenched, his aura simmering with barely contained anger. To my left, Luna Layla Hawkins, Erik’s mother, maintained an amicable smile, though her eyes betrayed her unease. “He’ll be here soon. I called him, and he’s on his way,” she assured me, her voice soothing but strained. Erik hadn’t shown up for nearly two weeks now. Two months ago, he informed me that Gracie Shaw, a werewolf from our pack, had returned to the territory. He handed me a picture of her leaving Heathrow, his eyes gleaming with something I couldn’t—or didn’t want to—place. “She’s as captivating as ever. Time has been good to her,” he had said, his words heavy with unspoken meaning. Marrying me seemed a decision he regretted every day.

Suddenly, the door swung open forcefully, and Erik walked in with Gracie Shaw. My father, Alpha Ambrose, stood abruptly, his eyes wide with shock. My mother, Luna Sariyah Bell, clung tightly to his arm, though it wasn’t necessary. My father stammered, “Erik, this is...”

Erik, smiling lazily, pulled out a chair near the door and helped Gracie sit. Then he took his place beside her, resting his arm on the back of her chair in a casual, possessive gesture. “Alpha Ambrose,” he began, his tone light but laced with defiance, “hasn’t Elena mentioned it to you? I had a crush back in the day.”

It felt like my heart had been punched, leaving me struggling for air. Luna Layla’s expression turned stern as she fixed Erik with a piercing gaze. “There’s a time and place for this. Today’s Elena’s birthday.”

Erik’s smile widened as he placed his hand on Gracie’s belly, his eyes locking onto mine with a challenge. “It’s just that today everyone is here, perfect for clearing things up.” His voice was smooth, almost mocking. “She’s pregnant. What do you think we should do, darling?”

Gracie had been blushing from the moment she entered, keeping her head down and silent, as if playing the part of the reluctant bystander. My hands, hidden beneath the table, had already dug into my palms deep enough to draw blood, yet my expression remained neutral, betraying none of the turmoil inside me.

Erik relaxed into his chair, his gaze never leaving me, as if daring me to break. “You know what to do, don’t you?”

My father slumped back into his seat, his aura flickering with a mix of anger and helplessness. Everyone at the table looked at me, awaiting my reaction, not a single voice rising in my defense. I let out a small, bitter laugh, my voice steady despite the pain clawing at my chest. “Congratulations.”

---

Growing up, I wanted to be a police officer. I was sure of it until my father, Alpha Ambrose, risked his life diving into the water to save someone. Kneeling at his funeral, with the somber music echoing around me, I fought back tears and felt lost. That feeling of being adrift persisted until the Hawkins family appeared, promising to care for us as they knelt before my father.

Elena White, the high school girl my father saved. Her face was porcelain-like, and her eyes were clear, more doll-like than Gracie Shaw’s. I despised her, from the depths of my being.

Why wasn’t she the one who died instead?

After dealing with my father’s affairs, my mother couldn’t resist their insistence and moved into their grand house, where everything was meticulously arranged. But Elena grew even more unbearable.

Her eyes would cautiously follow me everywhere. I was merely testing if the sofa was genuine leather by picking at it a little. She immediately asked, “Don’t like it? Should we switch to a fabric one?”

I suspected she was pretending, showing off. It was infuriating that she survived while playing the role of a benevolent benefactor. I also suspected she was behind the decision to transfer me to a prestigious high school. Under the guise of being good for me, did I, as a boy, need protection and care? No, it simply made me a constant reminder of their family’s gratitude.

No one asked my opinion, and I could no longer see Gracie Shaw. She handed me the class yearbook, eyes red, and said, “Write in it early for me.” I didn’t take it; I had no idea what to write. I had planned to confess my feelings to her before graduation, but I knew deep down we wouldn’t be together.

Elena was infuriatingly annoying, and moments passed without me being irritated by her. Between study sessions, I found myself thinking about her more than Gracie Shaw. I kept wondering, what does she want? What is she planning?

She soon provided an answer.

When Gracie came to say goodbye, she cried even harder than when I was transferred. She said going abroad to study was the luckiest thing in her life. I knew it wasn’t luck; someone was pulling strings behind the scenes.

I was furious, storming over to confront Elena. Only when I arrived did I recall it was her graduation ceremony, inexplicably holding a bouquet of flowers. I was there to demand answers, yet I held flowers.

In front of everyone, I proposed to her and took the bewildered Elena to get a marriage license. My heart was pounding out of my chest. Everyone urged me not to rush, to prepare the wedding, notify the guests. But I feared regret, feared my own regret even more than hers.

I was terrified she’d suddenly realize how thoroughly I intended to exact revenge. When she signed, her hands trembling, I was more anxious than she was. Only when I held that marriage certificate did my years of turmoil settle.

For the rest of our lives, we’d torment each other like this. I constantly reminded her that all my unhappiness was her fault. Watching her become more silent, more timid and fragile in front of me, gave me immense satisfaction.

She couldn’t leave me. No matter what I did, she would stay. Because this was her debt to me.

Erik’s gaze swept over the table laden with food, his brow furrowing in disapproval. With a sharp snap of his fingers, he summoned the waiter. “Bring something lighter and a pot of stew,” he ordered, his tone commanding. Then, casting a glance at Gracie, he added, “She’s been dealing with morning sickness. I’m particular about what she eats.”

His smile, warm and indulgent, felt like a branding iron against my heart. Gracie shifted uncomfortably in her seat, scrunching her nose at the spiced honey cake Erik offered her. Beside me, Layla, the Luna of our pack, sat in silence for a long moment before rising. “Erik,” she said, her voice calm but firm, “let’s speak outside.”

His smile faded instantly, and he dropped his fork with a clatter. “Say it here,” he replied, his eyes darting around the table before settling on me.

I pinched my thigh under the table, trying to steady myself. My wolf stirred faintly in the back of my mind, a quiet presence I rarely acknowledged these days. “Mom,” Erik said, his voice laced with mock concern, “you don’t think Elena would cause trouble for me, do you? That’s not likely, right?”

My parents, Alpha Ambrose and Luna Sariyah, remained silent, their eyes filled with sorrow as they watched me. I knew Erik had been waiting for this moment—for me to set him free. Over the years of our strained mate bond, he’d made his disdain for me abundantly clear.

I lowered my head quickly, afraid he might see the tears threatening to fall. “Don’t worry,” I said, my voice steady despite the ache in my chest. “I can sign the papers anytime.”

Layla had insisted on this birthday celebration, perhaps hoping to mend what was broken between us. Instead, it only deepened the wound.

She sighed, her hand gently patting my back. “Elena,” she murmured, her voice soft with concern, “please don’t act impulsively.”

Her touch did little to ease the pain or the humiliation. And Erik, ever impatient, slid the rejection papers toward me. He placed a pen in my hand, his movements hesitant, almost as if he was second-guessing himself.

The back of my hand was red and swollen, a faint trace of blood where I’d bitten down to keep from crying. He frowned slightly, avoiding my eyes. “Sign it,” he whispered, his voice low enough for only me to hear. “Release me, and free yourself too.”

---

Later, Gracie reached out to me, making sure I knew she was back. We hadn’t spoken in years, so when her friend request appeared on my phone, I hesitated before accepting.

A flicker of something—amusement?—crossed my mind, all tied to Erik. I knew Layla had always subtly blamed me for the Hawkins family’s lack of heirs. What she didn’t know was that Erik and I had never fully consummated our bond.

Loving him felt like a betrayal of my own self-respect. I couldn’t bring myself to give him that. So, he’d brought Gracie to humiliate me, even bringing the rejection papers to my birthday celebration.

Those papers were a formality, downloaded from the pack’s official records. How could I sign them? I thought he’d expect me to confront him, to demand why he was treating me this way.

But when the moment came, I surprised even myself. I signed the papers with steady hands, offering him my congratulations before walking away.

Congratulating him? I left without a backward glance, retreating to heal in solitude. If he didn’t care, why did I feel like the one left broken?

I expected him to call, to reach out in the quiet hours of the night. Instead, it was I who felt unsteady, my wolf stirring restlessly in the back of my mind.

On the day the rejection was finalized, I returned to the now-empty house, struck by the sudden return of a long-forgotten loneliness. Panic welled up inside me, unbidden.

I found myself asking about the security code, as if returning home would somehow fix what was broken.

A voice in my mind, clear and unmistakable, whispered: *Elena, I think I might care. But wasn’t I supposed to hate you?*

The thought lingered, persistent and unrelenting. Later, when he chased after me to confess, I acted as though I couldn’t hear him.

With icy resolve, I told him I didn’t love him anymore. I owed him nothing, and I wouldn’t repay any imagined debt.

The summer I nearly drowned during my junior year, it was Beta Timothy Rice who tragically lost his life trying to save me. As a Beta of the pack, his death shook everyone, leaving a void that seemed impossible to fill.

At the memorial service, Erik Hawkins stood rigid, his usually commanding presence diminished. He looked ashen, his broad shoulders slumped under the weight of grief. My mother, Luna Sariyah Bell, clung to Luna Layla Hawkins as they both wept, declaring that from that day forward, we were family. And so, we began living as one.

On those quiet nights when Luna Layla retreated to her room to cry, I’d quietly slip in and hold her, clutching my pillow tightly. She cared for me deeply, often trembling as she gently stroked my head. Her touch was a fragile reminder of the bond we’d formed, one that felt both comforting and suffocating.

Erik, a Lycan Prince, transferred to the prestigious private school I attended, thanks to my father, Alpha Ambrose Bell. He became more withdrawn with each passing day, his once commanding aura dimmed by grief. I became his shadow and his caretaker, even when his gaze was filled with hostility. I stubbornly treated him well, though his resentment was a constant presence.

By senior year, Erik had grown rebellious, his towering frame often disappearing to the rooftop to smoke. I’d follow him up there, only to find him pressing a girl against the wall for a kiss. Flustered and with my heart racing, I tried to leave, but he called out to me, his voice dripping with mockery.

“Didn’t you see it all?” He pulled the girl close and pointed at me. “Meet the girl who’s going to be my mate.”

His words were laced with sarcasm, his tone sharp and cutting. “She’s loaded, and my mom is obsessed with her.”

I felt the discomfort seep into every part of me, but I couldn’t just turn and walk away. My wolf stirred uneasily in the back of my mind, a faint whimper escaping her.

That night, Erik barged into my room, his towering frame leaning against the wall as he looked down at me. His presence was overwhelming, even in his human form. “Do you know why I didn’t want to transfer schools at all?”

He confessed he had a crush on Gracie Shaw, a girl from our pack, and had planned to confess his feelings after graduation. “But then my dad died, and now nothing I do feels right.”

The resentment in his eyes haunted my nightmares later. I secretly went to see Gracie, the girl whose smile revealed charming dimples, and whose presence seemed to light up any room she entered. She was everything I wasn’t—radiant, confident, and effortlessly captivating.

As I watched her from afar, I couldn’t help but wonder if Erik had made the right choice in rejecting me. But deep down, I knew his decision wasn’t about me—it was about his pain, his grief, and his inability to move forward. And though it hurt, I couldn’t blame him for it.