The healer mends the gash on my temple, and I burst through the study door, hands shaking as I sink into the chair, ready to type up the bond-breaking papers.

I'm finished. Get Charles to sign, then I'm gone-cutting loose from a life that was never mine, not really.

The screen glows to life, and I go rigid, fingers hovering over the keys. Staring back is the wallpaper: a snapshot from Adrian and Ivy's third birthday. My twins, sticky with frosting, perched on my lap, their small hands tangled in my hair like I was their anchor. The photographer bribed them with candy, sang off-key, but they wouldn't tear their eyes from me.

Their wide, trusting gazes, brimming with adoration, stayed fixed on my face, their grins gap-toothed and bright. And Charles. he stood behind us, his palm warm on my shoulder, his smile soft as if we were the best thing he'd ever known.

I blink, and the memory warps.

I meet Charles's eyes, that same tender look he had when he persuaded me to go through with the lab procedure.​

"I want us to have both a cub and a she-cub," he murmured, his voice warm as a hearth,​

"but carrying two at once would be too much for you. I couldn't bear to see you suffer like that. Let's do it this way-get it over with in one go."

I trusted him, hook, line, and sinker.​

The day I found out I was with child-imagining those little ones sharing our blood-I broke down in happy sobs. Even when the sickness clawed at my throat morning till night, when my belly swelled so big it felt like I was carrying years of weight instead of months, I didn't mind a bit. And when those pups clung to me, keeping me up two full years with never a full night's rest? My heart stayed soft as down for them, every second.

I grew up in a shambles, so I bled love into my pups. "Mommy's our whole world!" they'd cry.​

Four changed everything. Charles got them a Favalon tutor-then the slow rot. "House-she-wolf," they hissed. "Dumb."

They'd grumble, then turn around and charm me with sweet apologies, and I'd melt.

I thought they were just young, that it was harmless.

But after they pushed me down the stairs today, it hit me like a fang to the gut: the pups I love like my own soul look down on me from the depths of their little hearts.

That cozy photo, that warm family bond-it's all a mirage.

I snap out of it and print the bond-breaking papers, my hands moving fast. I'm about to shut down the computer when a notification blinks in the corner.

Charles left in such a rush he forgot to log out of some secret account-one I never knew about.

I click, and my stomach twists.

It's all about Colette.

Every post, every file, every memory-her.

She's their online Favalon tutor. Charles has been feeding Adrian and Ivy lies, telling them Colette's amazing, while I'm just a clumsy fool.

The latest video shows him renting out an entire island, surrounded by his closest packmates, all to welcome Colette back. My pups are there, clinging to her like she's their moon.

""Colette! You're blinding-videos don't do you justice, they make you look like you're wrapped in fog!" " Adrian says, his voice bright.

"Yeah, Colette's way better than Mommy at everything. I love you so much!" Ivy chimes in, her words slicing me open.

Charles doesn't stop them.

His hand hovers by Colette's waist, a breath's pause, then curls around it-slow, deliberate, like he's finally closing his jaws around the prize he's chased.

There they are, a pack of four, seamless as a well-gnawed bone.

And me? The stray she-wolf, unwanted.

That night, Charles comes back with the pups.

"Mommy, I didn't mean to push you," Adrian says, his eyes wide and innocent.

"Yeah, it was an accident. Don't be mad, okay?"

Ivy adds, her voice sugary sweet.

But I just nod, my face blank, not giving them a single smile.

They freeze, confused.

Charles raises an eyebrow, stepping closer to brush his hand across my cheek.

"Still hurting?"

I flinch, but I'm not fast enough.

His touch makes my skin crawl, knowing those same hands held Colette's waist. My stomach lurches, and I gag, unable to stop it.

Charles's face darkens.

"Pregnant again?" he says, his tone sharp.

"This is the second time you've 'accidentally' gotten pregnant. We took precautions. What's with all these coincidences? Did you plan this?"

"I told you before, another pup would split your attention. Adrian and Ivy need all your love."

He grabs my arm, pulling me toward the healer's kit to check.

I lurch, sending a clay jug crashing to the floor. It splinters, jagged shards slicing into my already battered haunches-old scrapes from last moon's run, now reopened.

Pain shoots through me, but Charles doesn't even notice.

I was pregnant once before, when the pups were four.

I was thrilled, ready to welcome another life.

But Charles shut it down.

"You went through hell last time," he said.

"I can't watch you suffer again. Let's not keep it."

Adrian and Ivy threw tantrums, saying they didn't want a sibling, and I gave in, tears streaming as I lost my pup.

Charles took time off to care for me, his voice soft as he said,

"We've got our twin pups. Don't be sad."

I thought he was keeping me safe, shielding me from harm.

Now the scent of it hits me-he never fretted over my well-being.

What he feared was his prized cubs, once they bonded with Colette, splitting the warmth I gave them.

That's all it was: greed for their full devotion, no crumbs left for me.

Flashback

I stare at the pregnancy report and let out a bitter laugh.

Charles can breathe easy now-no pup of ours will come into this world.

Good thing, too, because I don't want it anymore.

Charles exhales, his tone softening.

"Isabel," he said, his voice low as a growl held back, "I can't bear the thought of you enduring that trial again. The scent of your weariness lingered for moons after-let it stay gone." His gaze flickered to the door, where the cubs' laughter echoed. "Adrian and Ivy are all our pack needs. No more strain, no more ache. Just... this."

What a hypocrite.

"Appreciate the care," I say, voice as cool as a moonlit pelt.​

His brows lift, a flicker of confusion crossing his features-like a wolf catching an unfamiliar scent. "Why the frost in your tone?"​

Frost? I'm an outsider in my own den. How else was I supposed to sound?​

I pause, then pivot, pulling a folded sheet from my pocket. The bond-sunder papers crinkle faintly.

"Fine. I'm buying a shop space."

It's the first time I've ever asked for anything.

Charles hesitates, sensing something's off, but before he can read the contract closely, I cut in, my voice icy.

"What, you can't part with it?"

He signs without another word.

His mate wants something? He'd never hold back.

I take the papers, one weight off my chest. Outside, I hear Adrian and Ivy whispering.

"Mom's not actually gonna have another cub, right? She's so addled-what if it turns out a dullard like her?"

Adrian grumbles, nose wrinkling like he's caught a foul scent.​

Ugh, exactly," Ivy snorts, voice sharp as a snapped branch.

"She only got lucky with us-we're the good ones. I don't want a mom that's such a hassle. All that moping, like she can't keep up with our kind."

They'll get their wish soon enough.

One month from now, when these papers take effect, I won't be their mom anymore.

The next day, I don't drag myself out of bed like usual.

I leave the pups and Charles to the staff.

Big mistake-everything falls apart.

Adrian's fussy beyond reason-he'll only eat what I cook.

The staff turn out a dozen morning plates, and he won't so much as nibble.

Ivy can't stand the plaits they fumble with, but with no time to redo them, she storms off to preschool, lower lip jutting.

Then a wolf rushes to me, flustered.

"Ma'am, how do I pair the pocket square with Mr. Sterling's new blazer? The subtle pattern's tricky-I've tried three folds, and he's still unsatisfied."

"Grab the linen one from the second wardrobe, top shelf, left compartment. And the gold tie bar from the fourth wardrobe, middle drawer, velvet tray-it'll catch the pattern without clashing."

Soon after, Charles strides into the bedroom, looking every inch the alpha in that perfectly matched suit.

He leans against the doorframe, a flicker of annoyance in his eyes.

"What's with the strike?"

"I'm not feeling well," I say, not meeting his gaze.

His expression shifts as he remembers yesterday-my fall, the blood, all thanks to him and the pups.

Guilt flashes across his face.

"Rest up," he says, backing off.

With me "on strike," the house descends into chaos.

The staff stick to my meal plans, but Adrian insists the food's off-he's shed pounds in a matter of days.

They attempt to plait Ivy's hair the way I do, but she either cries out in discomfort or her plaits come undone by noon, leaving her sniffling.

Charles, who never fussed over the little things, now stumbles over every tiny detail-schedules, outfits, meals. It's driving him to distraction.

He even snaps at the staff, which isn't like him.

"You can't handle the simplest things!"

The staff tiptoe around, and I just find it laughable.

Maybe to Charles, I'm just a stay-at-home she-wolf, doing meaningless, replaceable work. He doesn't know how many hours I spent tweaking recipes to get Adrian to eat just a little more. How I watched nearly a thousand videos, practicing until I could make them pretty, sturdy, and gentle on Ivy's hair.

How I took design and art classes, studied aesthetics, just to match his picky taste and be the perfect mate by his side.

Those "small" things?

They're woven with every bit of love I had.

They took it all for granted, never seeing it for what it was.

Never seeing me-not just a mate or a mom, but Isabel.

Soon, I'll just be me again.

After days of chaos, Charles finally senses something's wrong.

"We need to talk," he says one morning, his fingers tapping the bedside table.

"Did you hear something?"

Yeah, the pack's a small world. Gossip travels fast.

Charles has been parading Colette around-auctions, galas, you name it.

The rare treasures that used to be mine? They're hers now.

She mentions she's not used to local architecture, and he hands her the keys to his Vaelin-style estate. She talks about starting a career, and he buys her a top-tier private conservatory in Ferralon Town to run as director.

He's done all this, yet has the nerve to tell me,

"Don't read into it so much. Colette's just a friend, that's all."

"Even if you're bitter or riled up at me, the kids are innocent. You're shaking up their lives. What, you don't want to be their mom anymore?"

I meet his gaze, unflinching. "You're right. I'm done being their mom."

The air feels like it's turned to stone.

Charles chuckles, brushing it off.

"You're scared your hold's slipping, aren't you?" he says, voice tight. "I've said it a hundred times-there's no tie between me and Colette. You'll always be my bond-mate, the cubs' mother. That won't shift."

He carries on like nothing's wrong.

"Enough of this. Adrian and Ivy are having birthday soon. Start planning their birthday feast."

A sour pang twists in my chest. Every year, I pour my heart into their birthdays. That trust fund I tried to set up?

It was meant to be their gift. But I'm not their mother, so I couldn't even give them that.

When I don't respond, Charles assumes I'm on board.

Then, almost as an afterthought, he adds,

"Colette shares their birth moon. What a serendipity of the moon, huh? Arrange her celebration alongside theirs-it'll make the gathering more howl-worthy."

My brain explodes with a roar, my whole body shaking with rage.

Back when I was carrying the twins, my belly got so huge in the final months that the healer urged a C-section.

But Charles insisted we wait.

"One more day in the womb is better for them," he said.

I wanted what was best for the pups, so I agreed without a complaint.

The last two weeks were hell-I couldn't sleep, stretch marks ripped across my skin like wildfire.

I love feeling beautiful, and I cried in secret, but I told myself to be strong, to be the fierce she-wolf a mother needs to be.

I endured until the day Charles picked for the C-section.

Now I see it.

All that suffering wasn't for me or the pups-it was so his real family, him, Colette, and their pups, could share a birthday, tying their bond even tighter. It's laughable. Pathetic.

The day of the birthday feast arrives, held at our house.

I stand among the crowd, invisible.

Colette, though-she's the star.

She sweeps in wearing a rose-diamond-encrusted mermaid gown that clings to her sleek silhouette, draped in one-of-a-kind gems Charles just fetched for her at auctions. Adrian's in a mini tuxedo, Ivy in a matching pink floral dress. The four of them step in, linked hand-in-hand, a polished little clan-every bit the image of a tight-knit unit, as if they've always belonged that way.

A guest, none the wiser, trills, "Mrs. Sterling's got quite the luck! Her mate's handsome, pack-wealthy, and true, plus those perfect twin cubs-spitting images of her, too."

Someone tugs her sleeve, hissing, "Quiet! That's not his mate-just Charles's old flame, slinking back. They call it 'friendship,' but please-she's the one his heart's always howled for."

"No wonder he tied his knot to such a plain she-wolf," another adds, snickering. "She's just a shadow of her. And Colette? Never bore cubs, so she's got that lunar glow, a sleek pelt-like figure, pulling off pink like it's second nature."

I slip out to the garden, letting the cool air hit my face as I count down the days until I'm free.

"You know you're just a stand-in. Why cling to what's not yours?"

Colette's voice cuts through the quiet, smug and lofty as she steps up beside me.

"I'm back to claim Charles, no matter what it takes. You're about to be kicked to the curb."

She expects me to crumble, to panic. Charles probably told her I'm just a clueless house-she-wolf. But I keep my cool.

"Go ahead and try."

Charles makes his own choices.

No matter how much he loves her, the Sterling-Fontaine feud and his pack's ancient laws stand in the way. He won't bind with her.

"You dare challenge me?" Colette's eyes darken.

"Think those little mutts you raised make you untouchable? I'll show you who matters more-me or a cheap substitute like you."

She yanks off her ring and flings it over the railing.

It arcs through the air, splashing into the pond below.

Then she raises her voice, all fake outrage.

"Charles and I are just companions! Even if you don't trust me, you had no call to fling my ring into the creek. Go fish it out!"

Charles hurries over, his face tight. He hesitates, then says,

"Colette, Isabel's been under the weather. Maybe it was an accident. The water's cold tonight-not safe to go after it. I'll get you a few better rings instead."

Colette's voice cracks, tears welling up.

"There's no replacing it! That's the one you auctioned me!"

Charles's expression shifts.

He scoured the world to get it for her.

"She threw it herself," I say calmly.

"Check my phone."

I had extra phone installed, just in case.

Colette's eyes flash with panic-she didn't expect me to be prepared.

Charles notices, suspicion creeping into his gaze.

Before he can say anything, Adrian and Ivy dart forward like little beasts, planting themselves in front of Colette.

Their small voices ring out, fierce and certain.

"Don't check! We saw who did it!"

"It was Mommy!"