Ashton, the Alpha of the Crimson Fang Pack, once again brought up breaking our mate bond while keeping his gaze fixed on Colette Adams’ tearful social media story. Colette, a Delta warrior in our pack, had caught his eye during the pack’s centennial celebration.

"Just go along with it," he said, his voice dripping with condescension. "You know she’s sensitive and can’t deal with pressure."

I touched the faint mark on my neck where his bite once rested and pursed my lips as I looked at him. Every time he found a new interest, he’d suggest severing our bond, claiming it wasn’t actually cheating. His arrogance was as towering as his muscular frame, a testament to his Alpha status.

Gunner Washington, a Gamma warrior and Ashton’s friend, teased, "Are you serious this time, Alpha? Amaya’s been by your side since you were pups."

Ashton chuckled, cutting a piece of ravioli and feeding it to me as if for his own amusement. "My dear Amaya is the best, isn’t she?"

I swallowed the ravioli along with the swirl of emotions inside me and nodded in agreement. My wolf whimpered softly in the back of my mind, but I silenced her. This wasn’t the time.

As I turned away, I overheard his confident bet, "In three days, she’ll definitely come begging me to take her back."

The phone heated up in my hand.

[Amaya, won’t you let me stay by your side?]

Wiping the crumbs from the corner of my mouth, I tapped out a reply:

[Okay.]

---

As soon as the message was sent, my phone rang.

All eyes, including Ashton’s, turned toward me.

Before I could answer, Gunner started mocking, "Wow, so Amaya does have a phone after all? I thought she was just waiting at the door every day for the Alpha to come home."

"You know," another warrior chimed in, "I commented on Alpha’s Instagram photo of Colette doing ballet, saying they look perfect together. Amaya, you didn’t get upset, right?"

Their laughter rose in unison, sharp and cutting.

I clutched my phone tightly, feeling trapped.

Ashton laughed along with them, then tapped his glass with a fork, silencing the room with his Alpha tone. "Alright, that’s enough. Teasing my dear Amaya like that, you better watch out or I’ll get angry."

"Yeah," Gunner said, smirking, "Alpha loves Amaya more than anyone."

"Though he goes around, Amaya is the one who stays true."

Taunting eyes kept shifting toward me.

Feeling a chill run down my spine, I hurried out.

Ashton grabbed my arm, his grip firm and unyielding. He unclasped the silver chain from my neck, the one he’d given me on my eighteenth birthday.

"Colette likes vintage jewelry. You wouldn’t mind if she borrowed this, would you?"

His fingernail pressed into the scab from a burn I got making coffee for him two days ago. He didn’t notice my slight wince as he smirked, looking all too pleased with himself.

I lowered my gaze to his hand—the silver chain held a tiny note he had written for me that night:

[Amaya is my world. I love Amaya.]

The chain was also from that night when he carried me on his back through the floods in the English countryside, finding it just to ease my fears.

These were all his things now. What reason did I have to refuse?

"Sure."

Gunner burst into laughter. "Amaya is always so easygoing. Alpha’s one lucky guy."

Feeling suffocated, I shook him off and quickly fled.

Even as I left the room, their boisterous laughter rang in my ears.

The phone call had already been missed.

Text messages started coming in.

[Amaya?]

[What’s going on? Why didn’t you pick up my call?]

I slid down the hallway wall, tears blurring my vision.

But I bit my lip, refusing to cry over him anymore.

They mentioned Colette’s full name, Colette Adams, a dance major who hadn’t even graduated yet.

Three months ago, Ashton attended the centennial celebration at his alma mater in Oxford and was immediately captivated by the classy Colette.

He pursued her vigorously, showering her with designer bags and cars.

He even gave her the token of our love.

I had spent a week staying up at night braiding that red string.

The string had come from a cathedral I visited to sincerely seek a blessing.

Though it had faded over the years, he never took it off—until now. This time, he gave away something that was a symbol of my love.

The girl eventually gave in to his advances, agreeing to be with him last night.

But only if she wouldn’t be the other woman.

That’s why Ashton proposed severing our bond again.

He claimed it was just to fool the young girl, insisting his heart really belonged to me.

I’ve tolerated his infidelities countless times. But this time, I’m truly letting go.

The phone began vibrating again.

I took it out.

[Amaya? Please reply. Don’t make me worry!]

Taking a deep breath to compose myself, I typed a response:

[Karter, I need a place to stay right now.]

Karter’s call came through immediately. I could sense his excitement, knowing how werewolves often act impulsively when adrenaline surges through them. Choosing not to answer, I mind-linked him instead, my voice steady despite the turmoil inside.

*Focus on the business trip. Securing top-tier equipment for the pack’s healing center is crucial.*

His reply was instant, his voice warm and reassuring through the mind link.

*Got it! Can’t wait to be back home with you, Amaya.*

His words made me chuckle, though tears unexpectedly began to roll down my cheeks like scattered beads. My wolf whimpered softly in the back of my mind, a faint echo of the pain I was trying to bury.

After the breakup, I didn’t return to the Crimson Fang Pack’s territory; instead, I chose to stay at a hotel in neutral grounds, far from the pack’s scent markers. That night, sleep was restless, haunted by dreams in which Ashton oscillated between being a savior and a tormentor.

We were childhood friends, our families both holding high ranks in our respective packs. Our parents hoped we’d end up together, strengthening the ties between the Crimson Fang Pack and my former pack, the Shadowclaw Pack. As adults, we fell in love, and the Moon Goddess blessed us as mates. But then tragedy struck—an attack by rogues claimed my parents’ lives, leaving me an orphan and our pack in disarray.

Despite our mate bond and the marking ceremony, Ashton’s parents, especially his mother, Lillian Lee, the former Luna of the Crimson Fang Pack, refused to acknowledge me. Yet back then, Ashton was solely focused on me. He even argued fiercely with his parents to be with me, his alpha tone shaking the packhouse walls. The loss of my parents caused me to withdraw, making me fearful of connections and prone to depression, making it hard to communicate with strangers, let alone other pack members.

Ashton remained by my side, tirelessly trying to cheer me up. I was touched, convinced we were destined to be together forever.

Midway through the dream, the scenes shifted rapidly. Ashton, with Colette Adams, the Delta warrior who had caught his eye during a pack celebration, cornered me against a wall, hurling degrading words. His parents barged in, his mother’s voice sharp and cold as she berated me for my supposed shamelessness. I awoke in a panic, gasping for air, my wolf growling in distress.

Outside, a torrential downpour was accompanied by booming thunder. I touched my forehead, realizing I had a fever, a rare vulnerability for a werewolf. My phone’s notification light blinked. It was another text from Colette, flaunting provocative selfies taken in what used to be our den. I tossed the phone aside and hid under the covers, my wolf curling up in misery.

I don’t know how long I was trapped in my feverish haze before Karter’s mind link stirred me.

*Amaya, I miss you so much. It’ll be another week before I can come home…*

His voice, deep and reassuring, coaxed a weak laugh from me. But when I responded, my raspy voice surprised us both.

Not wanting him to worry, I lied, saying it was just a cold and I had already scheduled an appointment with the pack healer. Karter breathed a sigh of relief, reminding me repeatedly to take care before ending the mind link.

Worried he might contact the Silver Moon Pack’s healer to check, I forced myself out of bed. I got a cab and headed for the hospital, a human-run facility where I wouldn’t be recognized by pack members.

Arriving at the emergency room, drenched from the rain, I was suddenly blocked in the hallway by a group of stylishly dressed girls. They held up a live-streaming camera, jeering:

“We’re Colette’s friends; come and see the homewrecker who threatened our Colette’s relationship! Let’s give her the attention she deserves!”

They shoved and taunted, their human voices grating against my heightened senses. I clutched my soaked clothes, curling up in the corner, struggling to breathe, my wolf growling in frustration.

“Remember this face, folks! Keep your men away from this temptress!”

One of them grabbed my chin, thrusting the camera in my face. I frantically waved my hands, biting my lip in humiliation, my wolf’s growls growing louder in my mind.

"You think you’re something special? Everything we’ve said is true!"

"Colette’s way too nice to deal with you herself; we’ll teach you a lesson for her!"

They tugged at my clothes, and I desperately tried to shield myself, shaking my head in panic. Looking around for help, I saw a crowd of onlookers, entertained by the spectacle, their scents a chaotic mix of amusement and indifference.

In my despair, Ashton appeared. Bathed in the harsh fluorescent light, he approached me like a savior, his alpha aura commanding the room. My heart leapt with relief, and I whimpered, “Alpha Ashton… help me…”

But he just shot me a cold glance and shielded the silently crying Colette, his arm around her possessively.

“Amaya Ross, do you have to make a spectacle? She just had heart surgery!”

The bitterness in my throat was reminiscent of the day his mother, Lillian Lee, had slapped me in front of the entire pack. I shrank back into the corner, trembling, clutching myself, my wolf howling in silent agony.

"Ashton, I’m not feeling well. Could you come with me to see the healer?"

Seeing my silence, Alpha Ashton Cox finally deigned to glance my way, his piercing gaze briefly acknowledging my presence. Colette Adams, the Delta warrior from his pack, seized the opportunity, clutching her chest dramatically and collapsing into his arms.

Alpha Ashton, snapping back to the moment, scooped her up with concern and hurried towards the pack’s healing quarters. She peeked over his shoulder, casting a smug smirk in my direction. Her group of warrior friends strutted behind them, leaving an air of triumph in their wake.

With the spectacle over, the crowd dispersed, leaving only the sound of rain tapping against the windows of the packhouse. As I looked out into the downpour, my thoughts drifted back to when I was eighteen. I remembered Alpha Ashton, bloodied and weary, carrying me to the pack’s clinic after a rogue attack.

Even back then, despite his exhaustion, he shielded me on his back, his voice gentle but firm as he reassured me, "Don’t worry, Amaya. I handled those rogues. No one will harm you while I’m here."

Though his back wasn’t broad, it provided me with an immense sense of security. I clung to his neck, whispering my gratitude as we reached the healer’s quarters, where Alpha Ashton eventually collapsed.

After examining us both, the pack healer said, "You have some cuts and bruises, but your Alpha has serious wounds. The one in his abdomen is the worst. Thankfully, you got help in time; it could’ve been much worse."

That same person who once risked everything for me now protected Colette and spoke harshly to me. Watching him walk away with her, I couldn’t recognize the Alpha who once fought fiercely to keep me safe.

Lowering my gaze, I said goodbye to him in my heart, bidding farewell to my youth. My number was called, and as I approached the healer’s room, I realized the healer was a friend of Beta Karter Hayes from the Silver Moon Pack.

Embarrassed by my disheveled state and afraid news would reach Beta Karter, I covered my face and hurried out of the packhouse. The storm outside hadn’t let up. I caught a ride back to my temporary lodging, where I stripped off my wet clothes and tried to bring down my fever.

My phone buzzed on the bathroom counter. I picked it up to hear Alpha Ashton’s voice, cold and commanding.

"Amaya Ross, where are you? How did you know Colette had a check-up today? If I hadn’t shown up, you might have made her condition worse!"

Without defending myself, I hung up. Moments later, a notification popped up. Alpha Ashton had posted on the pack’s social network:

"Reborn"

His post was accompanied by a photo of him and Colette kissing, her pale neck adorned by my silver necklace—a symbol of our broken mate bond. I liked the post and unfollowed him. Then, a WhatsApp message from Beta Karter lit up my screen.

"Amaya, you lied to me. I called the pack healer, and they said you skipped your appointment. How are you now?"

Warmth surged through me as I typed back and forth before finalizing my message.

"I’m fine now. Took some fever meds and feel a bit sleepy. Focus on your work, and don’t worry about me."

Silence followed. I smiled knowingly, aware that Beta Karter was always attentive. Despite his high status as the Beta of the Silver Moon Pack and his immense influence, he always took my words to heart.

It’s ironic, really. I met Beta Karter because of Alpha Ashton. If Alpha Ashton hadn’t repeatedly distracted himself with other females, causing our frequent breakups, I wouldn’t have been driven to seek guidance from the pack’s counselor. That’s when I met Beta Karter.

Initially, ours was a typical counselor-patient relationship. I treated him as a confidant, sharing life’s hardships and the emotional void left by Alpha Ashton’s infidelities. Even when I shut myself off from the world, I could still talk to him.

But over time, my visits became more frequent, and my condition worsened. Beta Karter was puzzled, having never seen a patient decline with treatment. He dedicated himself even more to my case, his feelings growing deeper.

Initially, I rejected his advances, but after Alpha Ashton kept hurting me like a stray wolf, I finally saw things clearly and accepted Beta Karter. He was everything Alpha Ashton wasn’t—loyal, supportive, and unwavering. And now, as I lay in bed, I knew I had made the right choice.