I had been involved with Ronan for three years, yet he never wanted our relationship to be public. Even when pack members whispered about us after spotting us together, he would immediately deny it, saying, "We’re just packmates." When the other Deltas sneered at me, calling me delusional for thinking I could ever be worthy of a Beta, he brushed it off lightly, saying, "Don’t worry about it." I couldn’t understand why a Beta needed to maintain an image of being unmated. He claimed he was at the height of his career, with the Alpha relying on him heavily, and asked me to be patient. But then, when he was caught embracing Callie Jackson, a Gamma from the Crimson Fang Pack, by a patrol group, the pack erupted with gossip. He quickly called a pack gathering, standing before the Alpha and the rest of the Silver Moon Pack, and publicly declared, "Let me introduce you to my mate." That was when I knew my love story had ended.

Ronan’s announcement spread like wildfire through the pack. Whispers and murmurs filled the training grounds, the dens, and even the healer’s den. Some warriors called him a hypocrite for maintaining an unmated image to benefit from the attention of the pack’s females, while others praised him as a true Beta who gave his mate a sense of security. Callie quickly stepped forward, her voice sweet but carrying an undercurrent of triumph. "Life is precious, grateful to have you by my side," she said, her words echoing through the gathered crowd. She wore a ceremonial wolf pelt draped over her shoulders—a symbol of status and pride. I recognized it immediately. It was mine, a gift from the Alpha for my dedication as a Delta. Just last month, it had been sitting quietly in Ronan’s den, which I had accidentally stumbled upon. I assumed it was a surprise he was planning for our three-year anniversary, so I pretended not to notice and secretly looked forward to it for a long time. Now, reality slapped me hard. I clenched my fists, nails digging into my palms, and forced myself to remain calm.

I stepped forward, my voice steady despite the turmoil inside. "I, Nadia Richardson, Delta of the Silver Moon Pack, bless the bond between Ronan Griffin, Beta of the Silver Moon Pack, and Callie Jackson, Gamma of the Crimson Fang Pack." The words tasted bitter on my tongue, but I refused to let my pain show. Barely five seconds passed before Ronan’s voice rang out, sharp and impatient, cutting through the silence. "Nadia, can you stop stirring up trouble? Do you know how stressed I am right now? I—" I turned on my heel and walked away without waiting for him to finish, my wolf growling faintly in the back of my mind.

Ronan returned to our shared den late that night. The room was pitch dark, and he softly called out to me, but I didn’t respond. With a sigh of resignation, he emerged from the bathing chamber, and I felt the bed dip as he lay down beside me, wrapping his arms around me from behind. "Nadia, I know you’re awake," he whispered, his face nestling into the curve of my neck. "This was an unexpected situation. Callie’s been dealing with a broken bond and needed someone to comfort her, just to support an old friend. I didn’t think it would end up like this. You know how vicious pack gossip can be, saying the nastiest things. Callie has a fragile constitution and can’t handle such stress. I had no choice but to do this." He continued, "Believe me, there’s really nothing between us."

Of course, I understood all too well the cruelty of pack gossip. It was during my second year with Ronan. It was my birthday, and after much pleading, he finally agreed to spend the day with me at the pack’s hunting grounds. We were spotted by a patrol group, and the whispers spread like wildfire. He was furious, scolded me harshly, and even left me there alone. "Nadia, are you a pup? Have you never been on a hunt before?" His anger was branded into my mind. Though he apologized later, the crack in my heart never healed. He later responded to the rumors with just four words: "We’re just packmates." But the others weren’t convinced, accusing me of trying to manipulate my way into a higher rank. I was inundated with sneers and snide remarks, my den flooded with mocking messages. Those days left me sleepless and tormented. On the rare occasion I did sleep, nightmares would jerk me awake. And Ronan? He merely shrugged it off, saying, "Don’t worry about it."

Now, with Callie in the spotlight, he suddenly cared so much. Truly laughable. I didn’t respond but instead shook his hand from around my waist and stood up, leaving the den. Ronan’s expression turned cold instantly. "Nadia, do you really have to make such a big deal?" he asked. "I’ve explained this to you already; it’s just a temporary tactic. Once the attention dies down, we’ll quietly part ways. Can’t you understand that?" I ignored him, slamming the door behind me, shutting his voice out completely.

The next morning, Ronan was still asleep in his den when I left early, my wolf pelt draped over my shoulders. It wasn’t that I was avoiding him on purpose; I just didn’t want to start my day with any negativity that might affect my mood. Today, I had a crucial training session with the pack warriors, where the Beta would announce the new Gamma. I knew how to prioritize my rank over romance, especially when the romance was with someone who had already become unreliable.

With my thoughts organized and my head held high, I walked into the training grounds with complete self-assurance. Right at the entrance, I unexpectedly bumped into Malaysia Jimenez, my only rival for the Gamma position. She wasn’t fond of me, mostly because my combat skills often outshone hers. She liked to complicate things for me, and she was a fan of Ronan’s.

Years ago, when Ronan downplayed our relationship with a blunt four-word statement, Malaysia had mocked me in front of the pack, revealing her friendship with Callie. Back then, she had been instrumental in setting up Callie and Ronan. Now, with Ronan’s public declaration of Callie as his mate, Malaysia was more smug than ever.

“Check out the perks of being the official mate. It’s just different, isn’t it?” she sneered, her voice dripping with malice. “Better than some she-wolves who overestimate themselves and think they can climb the ranks using male wolves. As if anybody would even consider them.”

I chuckled, giving her a once-over from head to toe. Her sleek, dark fur bristled under my gaze. "In terms of looks, I certainly can’t hold a candle to you. Using a male wolf to climb the ranks is just your style."

“I, on the other hand, find it sleazy.”

Malaysia’s face contorted in anger as she fired back. “Nadia, don’t get cocky. You’ll be the one howling in sorrow later.”

But little did she know, the tears would be hers to shed, not mine. She was so full of herself because of her affair with Barrett Wheeler, the pack’s current Gamma. She was sure she’d win the promotion, but she didn’t expect Barrett’s mate to storm into the training grounds and create quite the scene by confronting her in front of the entire pack.

The outcome was clear—I clinched the Gamma position without a hitch. As I passed by Malaysia in her frazzled state, her fur matted and her tail drooping, I leaned in and whispered, “Looks like using a male wolf didn’t work for you either.”

She seethed silently, her golden eyes burning with rage.

After the training session, it began to rain, the droplets soaking into my pelt as I made my way back to my den. Rubbing my tired temples, I opened the door to the smell of roasted meat. Ronan, donning an apron, emerged from the kitchen, holding a plate of barbecue ribs—my favorite dish.

His face brightened as he saw me, his broad frame filling the doorway. “Nadia, freshen up, dinner’s ready. It’s all your favorite dishes tonight.”

The sight felt unreal. Ronan was a talented cook, but he rarely prepared meals, typically only on my birthdays. I’d once confessed that eating his food felt like a slice of happiness. He’d teased, “If I ever upset you, you can forgive me after eating my cooking, right?”

I’d agreed with a silly grin, “Okay.”

“What are you daydreaming about? Time to eat,” Ronan said, taking off his apron and reaching for my pelt with his usual attentiveness.

Before I could respond, a sickly sweet voice interrupted, “Ronan, darling~”

I looked up. It was Callie, strolling out of my bedroom, wearing my ceremonial wolf pelt—the one I had earned after years of loyalty and hard work. Her golden fur shimmered in the dim light, and her eyes gleamed with triumph.

My wolf growled low in my chest, a primal sound of warning and betrayal. But I forced myself to stay calm, my claws retracting as I clenched my fists. This wasn’t over—not by a long shot.

"Take it off!" I demanded, my voice sharp enough to cut through the tension in the room. My eyes locked onto Callie Jackson, who stood there in my ceremonial wolf pelt, her expression a carefully crafted mix of innocence and helplessness. She glanced at Ronan Griffin, her eyes wide and pleading.

"Nadia, Callie came to apologize," Ronan said quickly, stepping forward as if to shield her. His Beta aura, usually commanding and steady, felt off—strained. "She got soaked in the rain on her way over and took a shower at my den. Please, it’s not what you think."

He gave Callie a subtle nod, and she chimed in, her voice dripping with sweetness, "Nadia, really, don’t misunderstand. My clothes were drenched, and Ronan kindly let me borrow your pelt. I didn’t mean to offend you."

"Take it off," I repeated, my tone leaving no room for argument. My wolf stirred in the back of my mind, a low growl of frustration echoing within me.

Callie flinched, her eyes welling with tears as if I’d struck her. Ronan’s jaw tightened, and his irritation was palpable. He was always so composed, so in control, but now his calm facade was cracking.

"It’s just a pelt," he said, his voice clipped. "Is it necessary to be so aggressive?"

I let out a cold laugh, the sound sharp and bitter. "If Callie doesn’t want to take it off, maybe she could buy it from me instead? I have no interest in keeping borrowed pelts."

"$700—how would you like to pay, Callie?" I asked, holding out my phone with the payment app open, my gaze unwavering.

Callie’s eyes widened in shock, her tears now streaming freely as if she were the most wronged wolf in the pack. She hesitated, pretending to reach for the pelt, but Ronan stepped in, grabbing her arm protectively.

"Enough!" Ronan snapped, his Beta tone ringing through the room, sharp and commanding. "Nadia, I never thought you’d be so unreasonable."

"$700, you say? Fine, I’ll pay for her," he growled, pulling out his phone and navigating to a payment app with a flick of his fingers. His movements were stiff, his frustration boiling over.

Behind him, Callie shot me a smug, mocking smile, her eyes glinting with triumph.

"Happy now?" Ronan asked, his glare piercing.

I slowly pocketed my phone and nodded, my voice steady. "Satisfied? Absolutely."

"Now, I’d appreciate it if both of you would kindly leave my den," I said, gesturing toward the door with a calmness that belied the storm raging inside me.

"Nadia, you’re being ridiculous," Ronan muttered, his frustration clear. But he didn’t argue further. Callie, however, stepped forward, her smile sickly sweet as she took my hand.

"Nadia, why are you doing this?" she said, her voice soft and pleading. "We came here to apologize. There’s truly nothing going on between Ronan and me. The rumors are just for show, meant for the pack. Please don’t let me come between you and Ronan; I’d feel awfully guilty."

Her words were honeyed, but her grip on my hand tightened, her nails digging into my skin. I shook her off lightly, but she let out a gasp—a performance worthy of a Luna—and stumbled, scraping her knee on the edge of the table. A thin line of blood welled up, and she looked up at me with wide, tear-filled eyes.

"Nadia, are you out of your mind?" Ronan yelled, rushing to her side. He knelt down to inspect her injury, his face filled with concern. When he looked back at me, his eyes burned with anger.

"Nadia, Callie was trying to apologize. Why did you have to react that way?"

"Ronan, it’s okay, don’t blame Nadia. It was my fault for being careless," Callie murmured, her voice trembling as she played the martyr.

I opened my mouth to speak, to explain, but Ronan cut me off.

"Enough," he said, his voice cold and final. "Nadia, I guess I was wrong about you."

With that, he scooped Callie into his arms and carried her out of my den without a backward glance. The door slammed shut behind them, and I stood there, my chest heaving, my wolf growling in frustration.

My pelt was still on her. And Ronan—my once-loyal Beta, the wolf I’d stood by through everything—had chosen her. Again.