The day before the marking ceremony, I received intimate photos of my mate with another female. Dylan Rivera, the Delta heir to the Rivera Pack who always carried himself with aloof dignity, lay in bed enveloping someone else, captured in a tender moment. As I reviewed the photos of the two of them, their closeness unmistakable, I calmly asked Dylan for a rejection.

Bianca Morrison, a Delta photographer at Dylan’s studio, called me, her voice quaking as she begged me not to be upset. "Amira, Dylan and I took these photos for work; don’t get the wrong idea."

Meanwhile, Dylan murmured soft reassurances to someone else on the line. "Don’t worry, everything she has is because of the Rivera Pack. She has no right to be angry."

I said nothing in response. I placed the rejection papers on the table and walked out without a backward glance.

When Dylan entered the den, our eyes met just as I was leaving, suitcase in hand. He paused for a moment, a displeased expression flickering across his face as he held a picture frame.

"Amira, are you really making a fuss over a photograph, leaving the pack?"

He sounded completely exasperated. "Here's the marking ceremony photo you wanted. Such a big deal over nothing."

The 30-inch photo fit perfectly atop the bedside table. Until today, I had looked forward to getting it. After all, Dylan was a photographer, yet he disliked being photographed himself. Our photos together were rare. I had coaxed him into taking those marking ceremony photos with me.

However, upon seeing those intimate photos today, I realized it wasn't taking photos he disliked; it was taking them with me. I left the photo untouched and instead gestured to the rejection agreement on the table.

"Great timing. I’ve already signed it. Let’s find a time to finalize the paperwork."

As I finished speaking, Dylan slammed the photo onto the table, ignoring the agreement entirely.

"Amira, really? I took those photos with Bianca for the sake of her work."

"She felt so guilty she canceled all her photography assignments because you mentioned rejection."

Bianca, a Delta photographer at Dylan’s studio, was passionate, artistically gifted, beautiful, and matched Dylan’s creative outlook.

Seeing my silence, Dylan frustratedly rubbed his temple before grabbing the rejection papers and tearing them to shreds, letting them fall into the nearby trash can.

"They’re just photos. You don’t understand art; you’re being so narrow-minded."

Just photos? After all the years together, Dylan and I had barely shared much intimacy. I had thought it was a sign of his respect for me. I hadn’t imagined he could pose so closely with a packmate, naturally and without awkwardness, his expression full of affection.

But I didn’t care anymore, nor did I want to. I only felt a fleeting sense of relief. I finally didn’t have to deceive myself.

"I definitely don’t understand this kind of scantily clad art. Feel free to take all the photos you want."

I shrugged as I spoke. Whether Dylan didn’t grasp my sarcasm or chose to ignore it, he scoffed.

"Yes, well, Bianca is much more open-minded than you. After the marking ceremony tomorrow, you should apologize to her, and we’ll move forward."

Hearing this, I couldn’t help but smile wryly. "Apologize? For what?"

With a sardonic twist in my smile, I said, "Apologize for not being okay with you taking even more intimate photos?"

At my words, Dylan was instantly furious, snapping back, "Amira, you’re insulting Bianca’s photography! Of course, you should apologize, or don’t blame me for being harsh!"

"And what does being harsh mean? Rejecting me or kicking me out of the Rivera Pack?"

I interrupted him as I moved toward the door, suitcase in hand. "Don’t trouble yourself. I’m leaving right now."

"Make sure you sign the rejection papers; I’ll make way for her tomorrow."

"You can mark the only female who truly understands art."

Seeing I was serious about leaving, Dylan, in a fit of anger, kicked over my suitcase. "Amira, I’m trying to reason with you, but you insist on being sarcastic, don’t you?"

"If you walk out that door today, you may as well walk away from the Rivera Pack forever."

Dylan was certain I wouldn’t go through with a rejection, sure that I couldn’t leave everything the Rivera Pack had offered me. But the truth is, I didn’t care about any of that. All I cared about was whether he cared for me.

It was clear that he once did, but his heart no longer belonged to me.

I only wanted to leave this place that had held me captive in the name of the mate bond.

Behind me, I heard the crash of the photo’s glass frame shattering, and Dylan’s furious voice hollering after me.

"Amira, you’re nothing more than a stray the Rivera Pack took in for me."

"Without me, without the Rivera Pack, you’re just an Omega!"

I quickened my pace to leave, but the words pierced my heart like arrows.

The man I had loved for almost a decade saw me as nothing more than a compliant pet.

It felt like a stab to the heart. I laughed bitterly at my own naivety, feeling the weight of my situation.

Dylan's words rang true. My identity was tied to the Rivera Pack, secured by their family.

To the outside world, I existed because of the Rivera Pack and Dylan.

I was an orphan taken in by Alpha Gregory Rivera, raised in the pack manor, with duties as my constant companion.

Once, during a pack gathering, a group of Delta females accused me of stealing a ceremonial necklace.

Dylan found evidence to prove my innocence, preventing me from being cast out of the pack.

After the gathering, he said he saw potential in me and invited me to model for his photography.

Alpha Gregory then put me under Dylan's guidance, making me his companion and protégé.

When I was about to enter the pack’s training academy, Alpha Gregory offered me the chance to study abroad.

Dylan, being the heir to the Alpha of the Rivera Pack, wasn’t interested in leadership.

His world was filled with artistic photography and a romantic spirit.

Knowing my feelings for Dylan, Alpha Gregory saw me as the perfect fit for a compliant Beta.

This was the deal between us, the condition that kept me by Dylan's side.

Upon returning to the pack, the Rivera family tested my skills, allowing me to prove myself.

After completing my training, I started as a Delta in the pack.

Through countless patrols and relentless effort, I climbed the ranks.

Eventually, I earned the title of acting Beta and the opportunity to be Dylan’s mate.

Though I lacked true authority, I poured my heart and soul into the pack.

During my time as a Delta, Dylan and I naturally became mates.

Shortly after my promotion, Alpha Gregory had us sign the mate bond papers, but without a ceremony.

He assured me that a public marking ceremony would take place once I became Beta.

Three years went by.

I immersed myself in pack duties, striving for a future with Dylan.

Yet, Dylan relied on me more, growing irritated by my lack of spontaneity.

I had no time for impromptu pack runs, photography, or romance.

Then Bianca Morrison appeared.

Dylan met her at a photography exhibit and later invited her to his studio.

They bonded over their love for art and shared endless conversations.

Bianca appreciated his artistic vision and the emotions his camera captured.

Soon, she occupied most of Dylan's heart.

Meanwhile, I was buried in pack duties, mundane and uninspiring, unable to be by his side.

Dylan grew increasingly impatient with me, spending more time at the studio.

By the time I understood what was happening, I continued to believe his claims that she was just a friend.

But I loved Dylan and didn’t want our mate bond to end in silence.

I tried to win back his love with the promise of a marking ceremony.

Until, on the day we were to take our ceremonial photos, I overheard Bianca ask him,

"Should we take personal photos given our relationship?"

To which he replied, "I only photograph those I love, and I only want to photograph you."

What should have been the day for our ceremonial photos turned into intimate photos of Dylan and Bianca.

In those photos, Bianca wore the ceremonial robe meant to be my marking gift.

I had imagined wearing it on our marking night.

Instead, I saw it in this devastating way.

At that moment, the belief I had held onto for years crumbled.

The harsh truth was clear: Dylan no longer loved me.

I realized that holding on to this one-sided mate bond was pointless. It was time to let go.