Perhaps my resentment ran so deep that I became a spirit untouched by the storm's rage.

Floating above, I listened intently to my mate, Alpha Frank Wells, and Aura Gordon's conversation.

"No wonder the safe house you built remains untouched by the storm!"

Upon hearing praise from his old flame, my mate, the Alpha of the Silver Moon Pack, swelled with pride.

"Absolutely, only the best for you."

He had once spoken those words to me.

When the storm first loomed, he vowed to build a safe house for our pack. He pulled all-nighters sketching out plans and gathering materials, and I, worried for him, urged him to take breaks to stave off exhaustion.

Back then, he brushed me off.

He claimed he wanted nothing but the best for me, ensuring I wouldn’t be harmed in the slightest. It was the first heartfelt promise he made after our marking ceremony, and it moved me enough to commit all our pack’s resources to construct the safe house.

Our mate bond had been sealed with the blessings of our families and the Moon Goddess, and I saw that promise as the start of deepening our bond.

But I never saw this coming.

My unwavering love led to a safe house built with foam pillars and a flimsy roof and walls!

Hearing those words again chills me to the core!

"What about your Luna? Her place is made of foam; is she really okay?" Aura, the Beta of the Crimson Fang Pack, suddenly glanced over and mentioned me!

Alpha Frank's expression darkened: "Why worry about her? She's not going anywhere!"

"That’s not a foam structure! It’s built with leftover materials from this safe house. A gust of wind couldn't knock it down!"

What a joke.

We've been acquainted for seven years, mates for five, yet I only warranted the scraps from his precious safe house.

I'm certain even if I were to perish before him, he'd be irritated that I died too close, casting a shadow on Aura.

"Well, she's safe then."

Aura nodded, smirking.

"Why fret about her? Even if the safe house isn't secure, she’ll survive!"

"And if not, hopefully far from here."

My heart twitched and laughed bitterly.

The mate I've loved for seven years is truly that indifferent.

Alpha Frank clearly wanted to steer the conversation away from me: "Rather than concern yourself with her, focus on us."

"Aura, don’t you want a pup that's just ours?"

He gazed at Aura with the warmth I once yearned for.

Earlier, my mate and I mostly met late at night when he returned home drunk. He never turned on the lights, shunning any closeness with me.

I tried everything, but he remained unmoved.

So when I discovered I was pregnant, I thought it would be a delightful surprise for him.

Yet now, it’s glaringly obvious.

The pup was indeed a surprise.

But Aura’s pup would be the real surprise.

My pup was an unwanted shock, a burden.

The wind howled for days, and inside the cabin, they remained wrapped in their own world. At first, the sounds tormented me, but eventually, I grew numb. Regret washed over me. Why had I accepted his mate bond so willingly, only to realize now that he never truly loved me?

On the first night after the storm cleared, a pack warrior stumbled upon my lifeless body. My limbs were shattered, my abdomen torn open, revealing the faint outline of our unborn pup inside me. Her scream echoed through the pack grounds, alerting the pack healer and the others.

The healer arrived quickly, and the pack ran DNA tests on my dismembered body before trying to reach my mate—Frank Wells, the Alpha of the Silver Moon Pack. But he was still in the cabin, unable to pull himself away from the she-wolf who truly held his heart—Aura Gordon, the Beta of the Crimson Fang Pack.

"I don’t want to leave, Aura..." His phone buzzed, interrupting their moment, and he dismissed the call with annoyance.

It took several attempts from the determined pack messenger before he finally answered.

"Alpha Frank, are you the mate of Leona Wells, the Luna of the Silver Moon Pack?"

At the mention of my name, anger flared in his eyes.

"What drama is she causing now? She’s a Luna; why can’t she just handle things herself?"

"I built her a safe house. Why does she always act like the victim?"

His words reduced me to nothing.

Before I realized I was carrying our pup, I would find myself vomiting violently in the pack infirmary and would mind-link him for help. I begged him to visit, to take me to the pack healer. He only visited once, disheveled, with clear signs of Aura’s scent lingering on him. He looked at me with eyes full of disdain, piercing me like a thousand needles.

As if I were the unwelcome outsider.

"If you’re sick, go to the healer. I’m not a healer."

"You’re just throwing up; it’s not life or death. Stop bothering me!"

He watched with cold indifference as I retched and writhed, unmoved until I broke down, crying out for answers.

"I’m busy, Luna. I’m building a safe house to keep you and our pup safe. Stop the dramatics."

"Leona Wells, stop being pathetic. Be grateful."

Back then, blinded by love, I internalized his words. He was right, I thought—I had to be grateful. He sacrificed his time to build me a safe house; I shouldn’t burden him further.

So, I swallowed my pride and waited, hoping he might change. But looking back now, all I want is to shake my past self awake.

Without another word, he ended the mind-link. When the pack messenger tried to reach him again, he shut down the connection.

Aura sensed his frustration and comforted him, and soon they were lost in each other again, erasing me from their minds.

Of course. To him, I was never truly loved.

Alpha Frank Wells, do you even remember?

Today is my birthday.