I couldn't stop thinking about the first time I met Daniel.

I was still chasing Brandon back then, head over heels. One snowy night, I got a call that Brandon was plastered, so I braved a rainstorm to pick him up.

But when I pushed open the door to the private room, it wasn't Brandon I saw first. It was a young wolf sitting in the corner-Daniel.

He shot to his feet when I walked in, spilling red wine all over his shirt.

His eyes were nothing like Brandon's, soft and warm, like they held a whole galaxy. He stared at me for what felt like forever before saying,

"Hannah, pleasure to meet you."

Looking back now, I wonder what kind of storm was brewing behind that gentle gaze.

I took a deep breath, my fingers trembling. "Hold on, Tyler. I need a second."

Tyler gave me a confused look. "What's up with you, Hannah?"

Before I could answer, he grinned, oblivious. "Come on, don't stress about it. You're too gorgeous for your own good. Half my buddies are into you, including Daniel, the one guy who acts like he's above it all."

"Except Brandon, of course," he added, rolling his eyes. "That wolf's obsessed with his first mate, Ashley. No one else stands a chance."

I shut my eyes, gripping the gift box so tight my knuckles whitened. His words about Brandon barely registered. My mind was stuck on one thing: Daniel likes me?

My heart started pounding, my voice coming out hoarse. "You said Daniel's leaving the pack? Where's he headed?"

"Elthenia. For his career," Tyler said, scratching his head. "He was supposed to go Four years ago, but for some reason, he stuck around 'til now."

Four years ago. Right around the time I got in that car wreck and started hunting for the wolf who saved me. My grip on the box tightened, nails digging into my palms.

"Alright, I'm out," Tyler said, turning to leave.

"Wait." I stopped him.

"You've had your fun, but it's time to step up. You're taking over the pack's businesses here. I'm heading other packs to expand our territory."

"What?!" Tyler's eyes nearly popped out. "Hannah, are you serious? I'm not ready for this!"

I gave him a faint smile.

"No time to get ready. I'm leaving next week."

To chase my true mate. I didn't say it out loud, but my grip on the gift box said enough.

After Tyler left, whining the whole way, I dragged a massive suitcase into my villa and started packing up everything tied to Brandon. Every item was proof of how hard I'd tried to win him over.

A limited-edition mouse I pulled strings to get.

Shoes he'd mentioned in passing, which I'd stayed up all night to snag.

A tie knot he wore during a match, tucked away like a treasure. I packed all night, and by dawn, everything was boxed up.

As I carried the box downstairs, I froze. Brandon was back.

He stood in the entryway, his shirt unbuttoned just enough to show a glimpse of pale collarbone, his messy hair falling over his brow, making his sharp eyes even more inelevense. He looked up, surprised.

"Hannah, you're up early."

Four years, and he still called me Hannah, like we were strangers.

If it weren't for the way he claimed me every night, I'd have questioned if we were even bound. But now I knew-those nights weren't about me. They were about how I reminded him of his first mate, Ashley.

I didn't answer, just countered, "And you? Gone all night."

He smirked, a faint, crooked grin. "Had some business."

In Four years, I'd rarely seen him smile for real.

His usual grin was cocky, his eyes cold. But this time, he was genuinely happy. And his "business"? That was him with Ashley.

Strangely, the pain that ripped me apart yesterday was gone. My heart felt oddly calm. I was just grateful I'd figured out I'd mistaken him for my real savior. It didn't hurt anymore.

I gave a flat "Oh" and walked past him, box in arms.

Brandon's smirk faded. He'd skipped our anniversary, didn't even call, and now I wasn't reacting? He frowned, reaching for my arm. "Hey, I'm sorry about missing yesterday. Let me make it up to you today."

I pulled away. "No need."

He blinked, thrown by my coldness, his eyes darkening. "No, I'm making it up to you."

Maybe it was guilt from Ashley, but Brandon was oddly patient today. He took me everywhere I'd ever mentioned wanting to go. We rode the roller coaster at the amusement park, had a dinner at a fancy restaurant, and-shockingly-he even went shopping with me, picking out a diamond ring.

I was about to say no when my phone buzzed.

The bar manager called, saying I'd left something at the club last time. I nodded, and Brandon, still acting out of character, insisted on driving me there.

As we grabbed my stuff and headed out, a soft, sweet voice called from behind. "Brandon, fancy seeing you here."

I turned and saw her-Ashley, all delicate beauty in a flowing aqua dress, heels clicking as she approached. Her gaze flicked to me for a second before she smiled at Brandon. "Who's this?"

Brandon froze, clearly not expecting her. After a beat, he said, "Tyler's sister. Hannah."

Brandon didn't even hint at our bond. Same old story, like always.

Ashley, all smiles, chirped, "We're throwing a party inside. Come join us!"

I wasn't in the mood, but Brandon was already nodding, pulling me along.

The private room was a haze of dim lights and pounding music. The second I stepped in, eyes locked onto me. I'd gone all out tonight-sleek dress hugging my curves, my skin practically glowing.

A few wolves sidled up, asking for my number.

Normally, I'd brush them off without a second thought.

But today? I flashed a smile and gave it out, one by one.

Brandon sat in the corner, his jaw tight, eyes burning holes into me.

Ashley's face soured, and she pouted, "Y'all forgetting this is my welcome-back party or what?"

The crowd laughed it off, shouting, "Let's play a game!"

They spun a bottle, and it landed on Ashley.

Someone hooted, "Loser's gotta kiss someone of the wolves!"

Ashley's gaze flicked to Brandon, but then she pointed to the wolf next to him.

"Him."

Right as she leaned in for the kiss-

Crash!

Brandon kicked over the table, glass shattering everywhere.

He grabbed Ashley's wrist and stormed out, dragging her behind him.

The room went dead silent.

I picked up my bag, gave a polite smile, and said, "Gotta run."

At the hallway's corner, their voices erupted, sharp and heated.

"What the hell was that?" Brandon growled, barely holding back his rage. "I'm right here, and you're about to kiss some other wolf? What was that night to you? Am I just your backup?"

Ashley's voice turned soft, wounded.

"I was just testing you, seeing if you still care..."

"Still care?"

Brandon's voice cracked, veins bulging at his temple.

"Ashley, I'd kill to be bound to you again, and you say I don't care?"

Her tone sweetened, coaxing.

"Don't be mad, okay? I didn't mean it like that. I'm saying... we can be bound again, but it's been so long. I need to know you love me like you used to. So, you've gotta agree to Four conditions."

Brandon, the wolf who never bows to anyone, just clenched his jaw and muttered, "Name them."

Ashley paused, then said, "First, I want you to break a rib and turn it into a ring for me."

I froze mid-step. Is this what young wolves do for love now?

No way Brandon would agree to something that insane.

But then-he spun on his heel and left.

I followed, watching as he jumped into his car, floored the gas, and aimed straight for a pole.

Boom!

The crash echoed, the world holding its breath for a split second. Then came the screams, the calls to enforcers, the wail of an ambulance.

Healers dragged Brandon, bloody and broken, from the wrecked car. With his last ounce of strength, he gasped, "My rib... it's broken... take it... during surgery..."

I stood at a distance, watching quietly.

A laugh slipped out of me.

He must really love her.

Good for them.

When I leave, they'll have their perfect bond, free and clear.

The next few days, Brandon was stuck in the hospital, but I didn't visit.

I was sipping coffee when I scrolled past Ashley's post on my phone.

She was wearing a delicate collarbone ring, captioned,

"Love paid for with a life-I'll take it~" My finger paused, then swiped past it, calm as ever.

My visa was set, plane tickets booked for Four days from now.

I'd been running around, picking out gifts for Daniel-stuff I thought he'd like.

I chose each one carefully, like I was making up for all the years I'd missed with the wrong wolf.

Lugging bags of gifts back home, I pushed open the door and froze.

Brandon was sprawled on the couch.

I blinked, then played it cool. "You're back?"

He looked up, his brow creasing slightly.

He'd been in the hospital for days, and I hadn't shown up-not even a call.

My chat thread with him was dead silent. Seeing me so unfazed now, his chest seemed to tighten.

"You knew I was in the hospital?" His voice was low, edged.

"Yup," I said, setting the shopping bags by the entryway. "What's up?"

"Why didn't you visit?"

"Work's been crazy."

He stared at my back as I turned away, his fingers absently rubbing the armrest.

Work was always crazy, but I'd always put him first before-dropped everything for him. His eyes landed on the bags, all men's stuff.

For me? I could almost hear him wonder.

Then I asked, "You got banged up pretty bad. How're you out so soon?"

"Tomorrow's the global tournament," he said, locking eyes with me. "Hannah, you're coming with me."

I froze.

Brandon was the golden wolf of Argentum Town, born with a silver spoon but chasing esports instead of the family empire.

With millions of fans, he was a legit gaming god.

Tomorrow's match was his shot at a grand slam-the peak of his career.

His dream.

And I'd been his biggest cheerleader.

When he first went pro, the entire Hayes pack, including his grandpa Walter, tried to shut him down.

We'd just gotten together back then, and I showed up at Walter's with a bottle of whiskey.

No one knows what I said, but after that, the Hayes pack never stood in Brandon's way again.

He asked me once,

"Why'd you fight for me? Don't you think I'm just screwing around?"

"Doing what you love isn't screwing around," I'd told him, poking his dimple with a grin.

"I'm kinda jealous of you dream-chasers. My dream's just making bank now, but since my mate's got a dream, I'm happy for you."

After that, he insisted I be at every match.

No matter how slammed I was-billion-dollar deals on the line-I'd be in the stands, cheering. But this time, I shook my head. "I'm not going."

Brandon froze, disbelief flashing across his face. That uneasy feeling in him stirred again. "No, you have to come." He grabbed my wrist.

"Is it that Northside project? Hayes has a stake in it. I'll get them to ease up, handle any roadblocks. Just come to the match with me."

I hesitated, then nodded. "Fine."

He let out a relieved breath.

The next day, the arena was a zoo-fans packed in, waving glow signs, chanting "Brandon for the grand slam!" It was his dream, and theirs too.

At the venue, I said, "Go ahead, I'll park."

Brandon got out, but I noticed his phone left on the seat. As I picked it up, the screen lit up. A message from Ashley:

"Brandon, I'm here for your match too! Second condition: I wanna see you fall from grace. Throw the game-give away eleven kills. Lose it, okay?"

My heart lurched.

Before I could process, Brandon doubled back for his phone. He saw the message, his face twitching briefly before smoothing out. He grabbed the phone and started to leave, but I stopped him.

"Brandon," I said, voice steady, "good luck getting that grand slam."

Don't be an idiot.

He paused, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "I will."

Inside the arena, the crowd's cheers were deafening.

On the big screen, Brandon's face loomed larger than life-black jacket, headset on, sharp nose, chiseled brow, those reckless eyes that made fans scream. He was heart-stoppingly gorgeous.

But I saw what they didn't. His fingers tapped the keyboard nervously, his throat bobbing.

I knew what he was wrestling with.

The game started.

Then-

One.

Two.

Four.

...

Eleven. He walked straight into the enemy's trap, screen going gray.

Eleven kills, handed over on purpose.

The crowd gasped. The commentator went silent. Fans stared, stunned, some smashing their signs in rage.

The match was lost.