The day Wesley Bennett, my childhood mate, returned from abroad, I went from his secret girlfriend to the girl-next-door. Wesley, the son of the Beta of the London Pack, had been my destined mate since we were pups. But when he left for the continent without explanation, I was left adrift.

Feeling lost, I turned to Julien Morrison, the Gamma of the Silvermoon Pack, who had loved me quietly for seven years. For a year, he treated me as if I were his world, and I opened my heart to him. I planned to get a painting he loved as a gift for our anniversary.

But to my shock, I stumbled upon a hidden studio filled with portraits of Camryn Hoffman, the daughter of the Omega healer, and countless love letters addressed to her. After some investigation, I found out that the mysterious owner of that studio was Julien himself. I eventually realized that his so-called seven-year pursuit was just a strategy to clear the way for his love for Camryn.

At that moment, I was heartbroken, and I agreed to my parents' proposal for an arranged mate pairing. My father, Alpha of the Ramos Pack, had always emphasized the importance of strong alliances between packs.

"Father, I've decided to go through with the mate pairing," I told him over the phone, wandering aimlessly under the soft glow of the streetlights after leaving the studio.

Father was surprised by my sudden decision and sounded a bit disoriented. But then he sternly asked, "Layla, has something happened? Why the sudden change of heart?"

Hearing his concern made my nose tingle, and tears began to fall uncontrollably. Our pack runs the leading business in London, and I'm the cherished daughter of Father and Mother. Growing up, any decision I rejected was never revisited. But now, just two days after my opposition to the arranged pairing, I had changed my stance.

Not wanting to worry him, I took a deep breath and feigned a casual tone, "Father, I'm the little princess of the Ramos Pack; who would dare trouble me?"

Upon hearing my cheerful voice, Father relaxed and chuckled, "Well, my precious princess, I'll come to Dublin to bring you home."

"No need, Father. I've got some things to sort out. I'll come home by myself in a week."

As soon as I finished speaking, Julien's voice came from behind me, "Layla, where did you say you were heading?"

Afraid Father would sense something, I quickly ended the call.

Turning to Julien, I replied dismissively, "You must have misheard."

Julien, unconvinced, pressed on, "Come on, I don't mishear things."

He leaned closer, his breath tickling my ear, making it itch slightly.

I furrowed my brow and tried to evade him, but he grabbed my wrist. "Layla, where are you going?"

He hugged me from behind, letting out a soft chuckle, "Layla, you haven't told me where you're off to."

Annoyed by his persistence, and unable to break free, I reluctantly confessed, "Home, for the mate pairing."

Upon hearing this, I felt Julien stiffen momentarily. But he quickly resumed his usual nonchalant demeanor, "Alright then, Layla, don't forget to invite your brother here for the celebration."

I knew he didn't believe me.

But I was sincere, "I don't think that'll be necessary."

My straightforward answer made him laugh softly again.

"Oh, my little Layla, just having a spat with me."

Saying this, Julien tried to kiss me.

He was always like this, masking his true self with a carefree attitude, no matter if I was genuinely upset or not.

I used to fall for this act. But now, I was truly done with it.

I pulled away from him, confronting him directly and asked, "Where did you come from just now?"

Since discovering the studio, I've been there multiple times, yet have never crossed paths with Julien.

But I was sure he was in the studio, as he’d always return home with a faint scent of oil paint.

I was sure he knew I’d discovered the studio.

I didn't confront him because I wanted to see if this man, who "loved me for seven years," could speak even a single word of truth to me.

As for Julien, he might have not confronted me, thinking I wouldn’t find out about the studio’s truth.

Or perhaps he feared that if the truth came out, I'd turn back to Wesley Bennett, his worry being that Camryn Hoffman, his true love, would be hurt in the process.

After a tense silence, Julien sighed deeply.

He reached for my hand and started, "Layla, lately..."

His words were abruptly interrupted by Camryn Hoffman emerging from the nearby alley, "Julien, you said you were just going for a smoke, what took so long..."

"Oh, Layla, you're here too."

My hands were at my sides, unconsciously clenched into fists, as I quietly watched Camryn Hoffman walk toward me. Julien Morrison, the Alpha of our New York pack, had already dropped his playful demeanor from moments ago. Now, he cautiously positioned himself between Camryn and me, his broad shoulders and towering frame a clear barrier.

"Camryn, it's freezing out here. Why did you come outside?" he asked gently, his deep voice laced with concern. His piercing green eyes were fixed on her, completely ignoring the fact that I, his mate—or at least, the one he had chosen to stand beside him—was standing right there.

"I'm fine; it's not cold at all," Camryn replied softly, her voice like a delicate whisper. Julien immediately countered with a firm tone, his Alpha authority slipping through, "How can you say that? Look, your nose is all red."

Without hesitation, Julien removed the thick wool scarf from around his neck—the one I had gifted him last winter—and wrapped it around Camryn's slender frame. His large hands fussed over her, adjusting the scarf until only her big, bright eyes were visible. She gazed at me, her voice sweet yet tinged with something I couldn’t quite place. "Please excuse me, Layla. I'm just delicate, and Alpha Julien always worries too much."

I tightened my fists, my nails digging painfully into my palms. We had been standing on this icy street in January for nearly ten minutes, yet Julien hadn’t noticed my shivering or the hoarseness in my voice. Camryn merely had a slightly red nose from the cold, and he had given her his only scarf. It was blatantly clear who mattered more to him.

"Layla, don’t get the wrong idea. Camryn, she..." Julien finally noticed my silence and tried to explain, his tone softening slightly as if he realized he needed to address me.

But I didn’t want his excuses. I interrupted him directly, my voice steady despite the storm raging inside me. "Alpha Julien, didn’t you tell me you'd be working late at the pack’s headquarters today? You're not in the same pack as Camryn, and this isn’t your territory. Do you have anything you'd like to explain?"

Camryn’s eyes instantly teared up at my words, her lower lip trembling. "Layla, please don’t think too much. It's my fault. I'll leave right now." She covered her face with her hands and turned, running down the nearby alley.

Julien’s brow furrowed deeply, his Alpha aura flaring with irritation. He was anxious to chase after Camryn, but before leaving, he didn’t forget to reprimand me, his voice sharp and commanding, "Layla Ramos, your dramatics are really unattractive!"

I couldn’t help but scoff under my breath. Sure, maybe I shouldn’t be dramatic. After all, with Camryn around, even my name "Layla" had turned into "Layla Ramos" in his vocabulary. The difference in closeness was painfully obvious. What more did I have to fight for?

It was the early hours of the morning by the time I got back to our house. Julien sent me a text message, his words brief and to the point: *Camryn developed a fever. I’ll be back later.* I scoffed as I deleted the text, my wolf stirring in the back of my mind, a low growl of disapproval echoing in my thoughts.

I grabbed a trash bag and began packing away all the things I’d bought for the house—every single item. Once I finished, it hit me. After a year together, everything in our home had been purchased by me. He never once gave me a gift. Meanwhile, Camryn’s social media was full of posts about the small trinkets and tokens Alpha Julien had gifted her.

I sat on the sofa, taking in the emptiness of the house around me. Suddenly, it seemed like it wouldn’t take me a week to move on. My wolf, usually so vocal in moments like this, was eerily silent, as if even she knew it was time to let go.

But, since we did share something meaningful once, I still wanted to properly say goodbye to Julien. Not as his mate, but as the person who had once believed in us. I owed myself that much.

My phone buzzed again, but I ignored it. Whoever it was—whether Julien or someone else—could wait. For now, I needed to figure out how to leave with my dignity intact. After all, I was Layla Ramos, daughter of the Alpha of the London pack. I wouldn’t let this break me.

Unable to sleep, I lay in bed, my mind muddled and heavy. The faint scent of my mate bond with Julien still lingered, but it felt distant, like a fading memory. I rose to take some cold medicine, but soon after, a sharp pain shot through my stomach. Shaking, I dialed Julien’s number. He picked up at the last moment, his voice dripping with irritation:

"Layla, didn’t I say I’d be home late tonight? What’s going on?"

"Camryn finally fell asleep after her fever meds. You woke her!"

Suppressing the ache in my stomach, I spoke with a hint of desperation, “Julien, I’m not feeling well. Could you...?”

Before I could continue, a woman's voice cut through from his side:

"Julien, it's late. Who’s calling?"

The sound of the phone hitting the ground echoed in the background, and his voice grew distant as he soothed Camryn:

“Camryn, you just got over a fever. Stay in bed. Rest up.”

“Julien, why do you always treat me like a pup?” Camryn giggled, "Who's calling at this hour?"

Julien dismissed her with ease, “Just a telemarketer. Ignore it.”

Overwhelmed by his repeated dismissals, I couldn’t bear it any longer. My hands shook as I ended the call. With my stomach tied in painful knots, I was about to contact emergency services when Julien’s call came through again.

Answering grudgingly, I was met with his voice, sharpened by irritation:

"Layla, you're being ridiculous!"

Trying to suppress my frustration, he added, “Why call so late? What’s urgent? Tell me.”

I curled my lips into a bitter smile, holding back tears as I retorted:

“Julien, you’re truly heartless.”

Cutting the call before he could respond, I found the constant callbacks barring me from reaching out for help. He finally resorted to messaging:

[Layla Ramos, I've spoiled you. You don't even learn from your mistakes!]

At that moment, any leftover affection for Julien vanished completely. The mate bond that once felt so strong now felt like a frayed thread, ready to snap.

The phone finally quieted, but the pain surged, leaving me on the brink of losing consciousness. Fighting through the agony, I managed to call for emergency assistance.

By the time the Healers arrived, I had succumbed to unconsciousness. The last thing I remembered was the faint howl of my wolf, a sound of both pain and defiance, as the world faded to black.