When I picked up the ring at the jewelry store, a notification from Twitter buzzed on my phone.

It was a post with a photo captioned: "True love knows no bounds." The image showed a man’s silhouette, smiling warmly at a woman.

The figure was unmistakably familiar—someone I saw every day and was supposed to mark as my mate in just a week.

"Miss Luna, your ring," the store clerk said, handing me the custom piece I had ordered a year ago. As the Luna of the Silver Moon Pack, I was accustomed to the respectful titles, but today they felt hollow.

With a blank expression, I took the ring and went back to the car. I glanced at my loyal Beta, Richard, in the driver’s seat, took his hand, and slipped the ring onto his finger. "It's yours now," I said.

Richard, my steadfast confidant and Beta, was taken aback, looking at me in shock. "My Luna?"

"Take me home," I instructed, leaning back in the passenger seat and closing my eyes.

"Are we not going to check out the marking ceremony venue?" Richard asked hesitantly, his deep voice laced with concern.

I didn’t answer. My mind was swirling with rightful anger and betrayal, while another part of me was considering the best way to proceed with a rejection. The bond between mates was sacred, a vow made under the Moon Goddess, but Evander had already shattered that sacred trust.

Richard, ever attentive and astute, knew better than to pry. He drove us back to my apartment instead of the estate I shared with Evander, the Alpha of the Silver Moon Pack.

Once home, I went straight to my study and opened my phone to take a closer look at the tweet.

I recognized the poster. She was Evander's long-lost love, Maren, a rogue werewolf he had been involved with years ago. They had shared a bond before she disappeared, leaving him heartbroken. Evander often mentioned her casually, as though it were a distant memory, but now it was clear—those memories were far from over.

At pack gatherings, his friends would occasionally reminisce about that relationship before urging Evander to cherish what he had now. What did Evander say back then? I closed my eyes to remember.

He had earnestly promised, "I know. I’d never do anything to hurt my Luna. I’ve moved on."

Right, that’s what he called moving on.

No matter. I could show Evander what it truly meant to let go. The bond between us was still there, faint but undeniable, and I could feel the weight of his betrayal pressing against it. But I wouldn’t let it break me. As Luna, I had a pack to lead, a duty to uphold, and a future to reclaim.

My wolf stirred within me, a low growl of anger and pain echoing in my mind. I pushed it down, focusing instead on the task at hand. Maren’s return was no coincidence, and Evander’s actions were a betrayal not just to me, but to the entire Silver Moon Pack.

I would handle this with the strength and dignity befitting a Luna. And if Evander thought he could simply brush this aside, he was sorely mistaken.

I met Evander three years after he ended his mate bond with his first love, during the early days of our rise through the werewolf hierarchy. I had inherited my family’s position within the pack, while he, though born into the prestigious Silver Moon Pack, insisted on proving himself without relying on his lineage. Back then, we were both vying for dominance in a territorial dispute, but I emerged victorious. He raised his glass of whiskey, his Alpha aura shimmering faintly, and said, “Next time, I won’t lose!”

After that, Evander and I often crossed paths—competing for alliances, negotiating with neighboring packs, and testing each other’s limits. Yet, we’d also share laughter over the absurdity of pack politics. Our mutual friends joked that we might as lead a pack together instead of constantly challenging each other.

One evening at a pack gathering, Evander turned to me with a rare sincerity in his eyes. “Angelina, maybe that’s not such a bad idea.”

I smirked and flicked his cheek lightly. “Keep dreaming, Alpha.” Once the night settled, Evander began to pursue me. His attempts were awkward, his gestures almost comically old-fashioned, and I teased him relentlessly. He’d blush and turn away, muttering, “I’m not very experienced with this.”

I laughed, asking if he was only trying to mate with me for a stronger alliance. He scratched the back of his neck, his Alpha aura flickering with uncertainty. “If I said I’ve always thought you were extraordinary, would you laugh at me? Even though we used to be rivals…”

I clicked my tongue and leaned in to kiss him. Naturally, we became mates.

Before we made our bond public, Evander confessed about his first love. He showed me their messages; their communication had ceased shortly after she left the pack. It was clear they had nothing left to say to each other. Evander’s voice was steady but soft, “I can’t pretend she never mattered, but if you think I’d ever want anything more with her, you’re wrong. I’ve moved forward, Angelina. Do you believe me?”

Why wouldn’t I? We all have pasts. So did I.

Looking at Evander, I could see a faint resemblance to someone I once knew, but it didn’t bother me. It was all in the past.

I tried to mind link Evander, but he didn’t respond. Instead, he sent a quick message through the pack’s network: “Luna, I’m busy. Give me two hours.”

Two hours? Evander must have overestimated. The whole thing wouldn’t take more than thirty minutes, even if I’m being generous.

I checked the pack’s public channel, and there was a post from my “white knight.” She’d shared a photo of a luxury hotel suite, with Evander’s hands visibly arranging the bed. “Back in familiar territory, glad he’s here. Mr. Goldenhair even set up my favorite blue roses.”

The location was the city where Evander was on a diplomatic mission, where we were about to establish a new territory. That suite was one Evander used to book regularly for me.

Goldenhair? Funny. Evander had dyed his hair a light gold color in his youth, earning him the nickname. If only he’d told me he enjoyed being called a puppy, I would’ve taken him to get neutered.