Arthur paused as he was leaving, and for a moment, his Beta aura seemed to still the air around us. Before I could fully process what was happening, he took my hand, his grip firm yet gentle.

"Makenzie, do you really want to reject our mate bond?"

I pulled my hand away, reaching for the rejection agreement I had prepared. The document felt heavy in my hands, the weight of what it represented pressing down on me.

"Take a look at this clause—I'm giving you the pack house and the car. I don't want them, but our shared assets..."

Without even glancing at it, Arthur tossed the document straight into the shredder, his eyes darkening with emotion.

I looked at him, puzzled:

"Is there something you're unhappy with in the agreement? The part about the division of our assets..."

He drew me closer, his presence overwhelming as it always was. The scent of pine and earth that was uniquely his enveloped me, making it hard to think straight.

"So, you really intend to leave me?"

"But why? Have I really been so terrible?"

Arthur took a deep breath, his eyes fixed on the floor, the weight of his Beta rank evident in his posture:

"Is it because I never learned to cook like your mother does?"

I hesitated, recalling the countless pack gatherings where conversations lingered late into the night. My mind drifted to the traditional robes I wore during those cherished ceremonies in the heart of our territory.

"It’s not about the cooking, Arthur. You know I’ve never been one to fuss over meals."

Arthur looked at me, his eyes searching for answers, the bond between us pulsating with unspoken words:

"Then why, Makenzie? Is it our different ways of celebrating, of living? Have I failed to be the mate you imagined during those times when we shared laughter over the latest pack gossip or chatted through mind links?"

I shook my head, memories of shared joy and experiences flooding back. I realized it wasn't about the status symbols we wore or the rituals we performed, nor the pack traditions we tried to uphold.

"No, Arthur. It's something else. It’s the space between us, the moments lost in translation, not the things we tried to adapt to. It’s never been about the cooking or the robes."

He sighed, drawing me even closer, the weight of our shared yet disjointed world pressing gently between us. His voice was soft but carried the authority of his rank:

"Makenzie, let's not lose each other to this. Let's focus on what truly matters, beyond the facade we've created."

His words echoed in the silence of our pack house, the bond between us trembling with the weight of his plea. I could feel my wolf stirring within, a low whine of uncertainty resonating in the back of my mind.

Arthur’s hand cupped my face, his touch both commanding and tender. "I, Arthur, Beta of the Blue Pack, refuse to let you go. Not like this. Not ever."

The formal vow hung in the air, binding us together with the strength of the Moon Goddess’s decree. My heart ached with the intensity of his declaration, the bond between us flaring to life once more.

I looked into his eyes, the bond thrumming with unspoken promises and lingering doubts. "Arthur..."

He leaned in, his forehead resting against mine. "Stay with me, Makenzie. Let’s rebuild what we’ve lost. Together."

The room seemed to hold its breath, the pack house silent except for the steady rhythm of our hearts. I could feel my wolf’s approval, a soft growl of agreement resonating within me.

"Alright," I whispered, my voice trembling with emotion. "Together."

Arthur’s arms wrapped around me, his embrace both protective and possessive. The bond between us pulsed with renewed strength, the space between us closing as we stood united in the heart of our pack.

Arthur used to be incredibly considerate toward me. Whenever I casually mentioned my favorite gelato, he would queue up at the shop to get me a cone, even if it meant standing in the rain. Once, a packmate called to invite me to a late-night run, and I told Arthur not to wait up. I shifted and sprinted through the forest to meet them.

Later that night, as a storm rolled in, my packmate escorted me home. Dazed from the evening's events, I stumbled back into human form and made my way to the front door. There stood Arthur, drenched, holding a melted cone, yet he didn’t show a trace of irritation.

“Winning a mate requires effort,” he said, his alpha tone softening as he handed me the messy treat. At that moment, I realized I needed to hold Arthur dear.

So, when he grumbled about me eating ice cream in his car, I didn’t fire back. Instead, I patiently reasoned:

"It’s just ice cream. It doesn’t have a strong scent."

"I’m being careful. It won’t spill in your car."

Arthur studied me with a frown, eyeing the ice cream. We’d known each other for years and understood one another well, but right then, his impatience felt alien to me.

I took a large bite of the ice cream, feeling the chill settle in my stomach.

“Arthur.”

“Hmm?”

“Look, there’s just a little bit left. I’ll finish it soon. I know you don’t like mess, and I won’t dirty your car.”

I reached out to playfully pinch his cheek, hoping to coax a smile from him.

Arthur leaned back, avoiding my touch.

“Your hands are covered in cream. Don’t touch me.”

Feeling a bit deflated, I withdrew my hand and stared at him intently.

“Arthur, would you get out of the car with me so we can finish eating on the sidewalk?”

“Do you really need me to join you for ice cream? Aren’t you an adult?”

A mix of unnamed emotions bubbled up inside me, overwhelming my senses.

“I’m your mate. What’s wrong with you sharing an ice cream with me?”

Arthur’s face turned cold.

“Makenzie, can’t you be a bit more mature? Yesterday, when I went to Livia’s office to discuss pack strategy, I bought her an ice cream to cool down. She said she’d rather focus on her duties as a Delta than worry about trivial things like that. You two are friends, yet you handle things so differently. Here you are, getting all worked up over ice cream.”

I stared at him, disbelief washing over me.

“Are you comparing me to someone else now? Are you implying I’m lacking?”

“What am I comparing? You just don’t have the outlook that Livia has. Am I not supposed to mention that?”

He chuckled softly, but there was no warmth in it.

“Are you jealous because your friend is more accomplished? She’s a Delta, trained to protect the pack, risking her life for us. And you? You’re a Gamma, focused on training warriors. Yet here you are, obsessed with this ice cream.”

Arthur had always been logical. As the Beta of the Blue Pack, he was known for his sharp mind and commanding presence. But I never imagined he’d use his alpha tone against me, pointing out my shortcomings in front of the pack.

I couldn’t argue with him. My throat felt dry and sore, the weight of his words pressing down on me.

Tears streamed down my face as I sobbed in the car, while Arthur opened my door like he was simply an observer.

“Get out. The ice cream’s melting. Don’t mess up my car.”

As soon as my feet touched the ground, Arthur drove off, leaving me standing there in disbelief. The ice cream gradually melted, sticky cream covering my hands.

I thought, if Arthur had just told me he didn’t like packmates eating in his car, I would’ve been okay. Even if he’d lumped me in with “others.”

The next day, unfortunately, I saw Livia getting out of Arthur’s passenger seat, holding an ice cream cone. She was smiling sweetly, and Arthur’s expression was gentle, his alpha aura calm and content.

It turned out, I really was just “another packmate.” Arthur’s aversion was genuine, but there was someone who got a pass.

Closing my eyes for a moment, I sighed, “Why haven’t you left yet?”

Wasn’t he worried about missing Livia’s prenatal appointment?

Arthur loosened his tie in frustration.

“My mate wants to sever the bond, and you ask where I’d go?”

I thought, fine, he could stay. It was his house, after all. I started packing some items I had bought with my own money, preparing to leave.

Once the cooling-off period ended, the rejection vow would automatically take effect.

Arthur watched me in surprise as I packed.

“Do you hate me that much? You don’t want to stay in our home?”

I didn’t understand. He and Livia had secretly become close, yet he was arguing about the rejection, not keen on registering the child?

Arthur sighed.

“Let’s both take some time to cool off. You stay at the house. I’ll crash at the pack office for a few days.”

I looked up at him.

“So, you’re giving me the house, but keeping all the assets?”

Arthur’s brow furrowed deeply, his alpha aura flaring with frustration.

“Are you really set on this rejection?”

I didn’t want to waste words with him, so I shoved him out and called a locksmith to change the locks right in front of him. Arthur watched me intently, his alpha tone heavy in the air, but he said nothing.

After shutting Arthur out of the packhouse, I headed into the kitchen to make myself something to eat.

The breakfast Arthur had prepared was now stone cold, much like our mate bond.

Usually, Arthur took care of the cooking at the packhouse, so I wasn’t used to spending much time in the kitchen. The last time I ventured in was when Livia came over, and I decided to make dessert for her.

Back then, Livia nudged Arthur playfully and teased, "Hey, isn’t it usually you cooking around here? How did Makenzie end up in the kitchen?"

Arthur, unfazed, explained to me, "Livia and I have some pack patrol routes to discuss, but I’ll join you in the kitchen later."

I nodded and poured them each a cup of coffee. Livia handed one to Arthur, and he accepted it without hesitation. Shortly afterward, Livia mistakenly picked up Arthur’s couple’s mug and took a sip. Realizing her mistake, she quickly apologized to me, "Sorry, Makenzie, I didn’t realize it was Arthur’s mug."

Arthur responded before I could, "Oh, it’s fine. A mug’s just a mug, right?"

I stood still, my mind in turmoil, and escaped into the kitchen, unsure of what to say.

Arthur soon joined me, asking, "Is there a lot to do?"

I shook my head, suggesting they focus on their work as I finished up. When Arthur left the kitchen, he casually turned on the exhaust fan and partially closed the kitchen door.

The doorbell rang, pulling me from my thoughts. Opening the door, I was surprised to see the delivery guy.

"I didn’t order takeout," I said, puzzled.

Following the arm holding the food upwards, I met Arthur’s gaze. "I saw you standing in the kitchen for ages on the monitor without eating. I went out and got us your favorite from our usual spot, plus ice cream. I’ll put it in the freezer so you can have it later," he explained as he stepped inside and closed the door.

It struck me that the packhouse indeed had cameras. Without them, I wouldn’t have seen Livia suddenly lean in and kiss Arthur when I was in the kitchen making dessert. Arthur gripped her wrist and pushed her onto the couch. I remember wondering why an exhaust fan was needed for making dessert.

Later, I discovered they’d messed up the bed in our master bedroom. Livia smirked at our marking photo and asked Arthur, "When’s Makenzie coming back?"

Catching his breath, Arthur replied, "She’ll be home soon; then we’ll head to the hotel."

That day, when I returned, Livia’s Victorian-style dress was rumpled, and there was a red mark on Arthur’s neck. I touched it and asked, "What happened here? Mosquito bite?"

He swiftly brushed my hand away, "It’s nothing. A little ointment will take care of it."

Livia laughed from the side, "Arthur, you really are pampered by Makenzie, not even noticing a mosquito bite."

Arthur always managed to keep things hidden; I was keenly aware of that.

So now, facing Arthur as he darted around in our packhouse, I said, "Thanks for bringing dinner over; you can leave now. Goodbye."

He ignored my request and moved further in, "Just need to use the bathroom."

I stood there, helpless, listening to the sounds from the restroom. As soon as I heard the toilet flush, I quickly opened the front door, ready to usher him out. Unexpectedly, the shower began running, and my heart skipped a beat.

"What are you doing, Arthur?"

"I broke into a sweat when you mentioned rejection; I need a shower."

I took a deep breath and began banging on the door, "You need to leave; I’ve already called the elevator for you."

The door swung open suddenly, causing me to lose balance, but Arthur caught me: "The rejection papers aren’t signed yet; you’re still my mate. So why can’t I shower at my mate’s place?"

Seeing my lack of response, Arthur’s demeanor became serious: "Why do you want to reject me? Didn’t you say you’d always love me when we marked each other?"

"I don’t love you anymore."

"If you don’t love me, why should I still love you?"

Arthur hastily defended himself, "Who said I don’t love you? If not you, then who?"

Arthur’s phone rang, and I glanced at the caller ID: "Livia."