Aya

I once thought Cliffe Salvatore was capable of love, the kind of love that made your heart skip and your soul ache. But I was wrong. So painfully wrong.

He was the alpha heir to the Crimson Moon pack, and I was just a human orphan he’d taken in out of pity…or duty. I told myself it didn’t matter. One day, when he’d fully embraced his role, maybe things would change. Maybe he’d see me. So, I waited.

But tonight, in the celebration hall, everything shattered.

The night was supposed to be special, Cliffe’s ascension as the future alpha. I’d spent hours preparing, wearing a dress I’d saved for months to buy. I wanted him to notice me, just once not as a little girl but as a woman. I wanted to believe I mattered.

Instead, I walked in to find him standing at the center of the room, his hand resting on Evelyn Morten’s waist. The way he looked at her was possessive, adoring… it made my breath catch. She was stunning, her silver hair glowing in the moonlight, every bit the perfect match for him.

A reporter broke through the murmur of voices. “Alpha Cliffe, can you confirm the rumors about you and Beta Evelyn?”

Cliffe smiled. That smile, the one I thought I knew… tightened around Evelyn like a noose. “What do you think?” he said, his tone smooth, teasing. Then, as if to drive the blade deeper, he kissed her.

Gasps and cheers erupted. My world crumbled.

The gift I’d brought for him slipped from my trembling hands. I stumbled back, the sound of my heartbeat pounding in my ears. Somehow, I made it outside, gasping for air as tears blurred my vision.

My phone buzzed. My mom’s name flashed on the screen.

“Mom…” My voice broke as I answered.

“I saw the ceremony,” she said softly. “Aya, come home. You’ve given him enough of your life. It’s time to let go.”

Her words hit me like a slap. Let go? Could I?

“I’ll come home,” I whispered, my throat tight.

“Good,” she said. “But get closure first. Say goodbye.”

Closure. How do you say goodbye to a dream?

I stayed up that night, haunted by memories of Cliffe and going through pictures of our younger selves. We were so happy together. He’d been my protector, my savior. He’d come back for me once, pulling me from the orphanage into a world I didn’t belong in. I’d clung to him like he was my lifeline, believing in a bond that was never real.

Where did it all go wrong? When did we start to drift apart? Was it when I confessed my feelings to him?

At two in the morning, the sound of the front door slamming jolted me awake. Cliffe was back. But he wasn’t alone.

Evelyn followed him in, her beauty as striking in the dim light as it was under the moon. “This is cozy,” she said, her voice syrupy sweet. Her sharp gaze landed on me. “You must be Aya. Cliffe’s… sister?”

The word cut like a blade.

“Evelyn,” Cliffe said, ignoring my stunned silence. “Be nice. Aya’s family.”

Family. The word crushed me.

Evelyn smiled, her expression predatory. “Hope you don’t mind us barging in. The reporters were relentless, and Cliffe thought it’d be safer here.”

“It’s fine,” I managed, though my voice betrayed me.

Cliffe turned to me, his tone casual yet commanding. “Aya, can you make tea or something? Evelyn’s had a long night.”

I froze. “I… didn’t prepare anything tonight.”

His brow furrowed, and for a moment, he looked at me like I was a stranger. “You always have tea or something ready.”

Evelyn giggled, placing a hand on his chest. “Don’t be so harsh, Cliffe. I’m sure she’s just tired.” Her voice was light, playful, and it made him smile.

I bit my lip, holding back the tears threatening to spill. I wasn’t sure what hurt more, his indifference or my inability to hate him

Later that night, just as I was about to fall asleep, a knock came at my door.

Evelyn.

“Hey,” she said, her tone deceptively warm. “Can I come in?”

I hesitated but nodded.

She stepped inside, shutting the door behind her. Her smile turned cold. “I’ve always wondered how someone like you managed to stay in Cliffe’s life for so long. It must be nice, having him take pity on you.”

I clenched my fists, the sting of her words burning deep my wolfless human blood felt like a curse now.

Leaning closer, she whispered, “Here’s some advice… Cliffe doesn’t need you anymore. Do yourself a favor and disappear before he asks you to.”

Her words were a death sentence, delivered with a smile.

As she paraded around my room, I stood there in the suffocating silence, her voice echoing in my head.

Disappear.

Maybe she was right.

Aya

Do you even realize how pathetic you look, clinging to Cliffe like this?” Evelyn’s voice suddenly sliced through the air, sharp and venomous. “What do you even offer him? Me? I have the backing of one of the most powerful alpha packs in the industry. Cliffe gets access to endless resources and treaty’s because of me. And you? What do you have? An orphanage?”

The laugh that followed wasn’t sweet or amused, it was cruel, deliberate.

I froze, my chest tightening as her words burrowed into me. This wasn’t the polished, angelic Beta Evelyn Morten the whole pack adored. No, this was someone ruthless, calculated, and entirely devoid of compassion.

“I…I didn’t mean…” I tried to find my voice, but she cut me off with a dismissive wave.

“Save it,” she snapped, her patience clearly worn thin. “Here’s the reality… Cliffe is mine now. Pack your things and leave before I lose my temper. Otherwise…” She let the threat hang in the air, her eyes narrowing.

I swallowed hard, my throat dry. She didn’t wait for a response, strutting out of my room and into the bathroom like she owned it, leaving me standing there, shaking, humiliated, furious.

I told myself it didn’t matter. I was leaving soon anyway. But no matter how hard I tried to convince myself, her words echoed in my head like a curse.

That night, I sat on the edge of my bed, staring into the abyss of memories I wasn’t ready to revisit.

High school. Cliffe’s support had been my lifeline then. He was still a little wolf back in those days, under the alpha training and taking whatever little missions he could to scrape by. Money was tight, but somehow, he always made sure I had enough and came through.

When I started college, I couldn’t bear being a burden anymore. I began writing, and though my early earnings were small, they grew. From a few hundred dollars to thousands, I became independent. Yet Cliffe still sent me money every month, insisting it was “his duty.” I saved it all, every cent. Someday, I thought, I’d give it back.

When I graduated, I wanted to work, to stand on my own. But Cliffe… he’d asked me to stay.

“I’ve never had a real family,” he had said, his voice raw, his vulnerability exposed. “Now that I finally have one, I don’t want to lose it.”

I’d stayed. For him. For us.

Now, Evelyn’s words had shattered that illusion. How had I been so blind?

The next morning, I overslept, something I never did. Panic set in as I rushed to the kitchen to prepare breakfast for Cliffe. I made his favorite light vegetarian dishes. He had a sensitive stomach and I’d learned to cook around it.

I was just setting the table when Evelyn waltzed in wearing one of Cliffe’s oversized shirts, her bare legs on full display.

“Good morning!” she chirped, her voice syrupy and bright different from her bitch tone earlier on.

I swallowed the bitterness rising in my throat. “Morning,” I replied, forcing a polite smile.

She glanced at the table, her lips curving into a mock pout. “Oh no, did someone forget about me? No breakfast for the guest?”

My pulse quickened, shame heating my face. Without a word, I turned to get another bowl.

But as I carried it to the table, she stepped into my path.

“Ah!” she shrieked dramatically.

The bowl slipped from my hands, shattering on the floor. Scalding porridge splattered over my feet, and a sharp, searing pain followed as a shard of porcelain sliced into my heel.

I gasped, stumbling back, the sudden pain almost making me black out. Blood pooled beneath me, hot and sticky.

Her scream brought Cliffe rushing into the room.

“What happened?” His voice was sharp, his eyes scanning the scene.

“I just wanted to help,” Evelyn whimpered, lifting a foot to show a single grain of rice stuck to her skin. “But she bumped into me, and the bowl fell. It’s fine, though. I’m not hurt.”

Cliffe’s gaze snapped to me, crouched on the floor, clutching my bleeding foot.

“Aya, what the hell? Can’t you be more careful?”

My breath hitched. I stared at him, the pain in my chest eclipsing the sting in my foot.

“Cliffe, I…”

“Apologize,” he demanded, his tone cold.

Evelyn rested a hand on his arm, her voice dripping with faux sweetness. “Cliffe, don’t be mad. It’s not a big deal. Just… clean this up, Aya . Someone could get hurt.”

She led him out of the room, casting me a victorious smirk over her shoulder.

As their voices faded, so did my composure. Tears spilled over, hot and uncontrollable.

It wasn’t the burn on my skin or the cut on my heel that hurt the most. It was the betrayal, the realization that the boy who had once fought for me, protected me, was gone.

I bit my lip, tasting blood.

This wasn’t my home anymore.

Aya

The turmoil in my life began long before Cliffe came into it. As a child, betrayal and blood shattered my world. My uncle, consumed by greed and desperation, kidnapped me in the dead of night. His scheme crumbled as quickly as it began, he drank himself to death in a sleazy bar, leaving me abandoned in a dingy motel, terrified and alone.

For days, I wandered the streets, cold and starving, until a couple found me. They called me Rachel and took me in as their own. But luck turned its back on me again when my foster mother finally bore a child of her own.

One crisp autumn morning, my foster father packed my belongings into a small bag and led me to the train station. We rode in silence for hours until we arrived in the city. He left me in front of a decrepit building, my world tilting on its axis.

“This will be your home now,” he said with finality. No goodbye. No second glance. Just the sound of his retreating footsteps.

I stood frozen, clutching the bag of everything I owned, tears burning my cheeks. Then, through the iron fence, a boy’s voice broke the silence.

“Hey! What’s your name? Did your pack abandon you too?”

He was all wiry limbs and messy hair, his grin wide and mischievous. I hesitated, searching for something real in the chaos.

“I’m Aya,” I whispered. The name tasted foreign, but familiar enough.

“Cliffe,” he said with a lopsided grin. “Don’t worry. The pack didn’t want me either. But I’ll take care of you.”

And he did.

I was confused at what he meant by pack and later came to find out he was a werewolf, most of our siblings at the orphanages were wolves.

Life in the orphanage was brutal. The scent of unwashed bodies and despair clung to the air. Fights broke out over scraps of food, dominance battles where strength ruled. But Cliffe was my shield, always stepping in before anyone dared lay a hand on me.

We became inseparable, a young wolf and a weak human girl against the world. He taught me to fight, to survive. The bond we shared was fierce, unbreakable… or so I thought.

Over time, Cliffe changed. He grew distant, his fierce protectiveness replaced by something colder, guarded. I had confessed my feelings for him one day out of the blue and he shut it down with I would grow out of it… but I knew I wouldn't.

Then she arrived, Evelyn Morten. Her presence was electric, commanding, the kind that turned heads and silenced rooms.

I watched helplessly as Cliffe gravitated toward her, caught in her orbit. I should’ve hated her, but how could I? She was everything I wasn’t… strong, confident, magnetic and a Beta wolf. I was just the girl left behind.

The night everything fell apart, the air smelled of rain and regret. I sat in the shadows of my room staring blankly at my plants on the windowsill.

They were my sanctuary, my pride. Soon, they’d belong to someone else. Maybe they always had.

I had gone to clean up my leg at the hospital and they gave me some drugs to ease the pain with a neat dressing, the glaring white bandage stared back at me with pity.

My phone buzzed, dragging me back to reality. A message from my editor glared on the screen:

[Aya, where’s your update? Readers are waiting. You’re late again.]

I swallowed the lump in my throat and typed a curt reply. [It’ll be up tonight.]

Back in my apartment, the memories clawed at me as I opened my laptop. My novel… my novel, a story of two wolves who found solace in each other… It was a lie. My characters had a love I’d never know.

The comments beneath my latest chapter blurred together.

“When will they realize they’re mates?”

“Don’t let them drift apart! They deserve happiness!”

“Please, no sad endings. My heart can’t take it!”

They didn’t know the truth, sometimes, love wasn’t enough.

I typed furiously, my fingers trembling as the words poured out.

“Chapter Title: The Final Goodbye.”

It was late when I finished. Exhaustion weighed heavily on me, but I couldn’t sleep. Instead, I pulled out the old photo album hidden in my drawer.

Each snapshot was a dagger to my heart, Cliffe in the kitchen, his hair damp from the rain. Cliffe laughing, his head thrown back, his eyes full of life. Cliffe asleep on the couch, the moonlight framing his face.

I gripped the scissors tightly, the urge to cut him out of my life overwhelming. But the buzzing of my phone stopped me.

It was my friend Caroline.

“Aya, have you seen the news?” Caroline’s voice was frantic, her words tumbling out.

“What news?”

“You’re trending,” she said, her tone heavy. “Someone filmed you outside Cliffe’s engagement announcement last night. Evelyn’s fans are all over it.”

My stomach twisted as I opened the app. The top tag was a knife through my chest: #CliffeAndEvelynForever.

But it was the second hashtag that destroyed me: #Cliffe’sPatheticStray.

Photos of me crying outside the building, clutching the gift I got for him, filled the screen. The comments were a feeding frenzy:

“Cliffe’s pity project is still clinging to him? How pathetic.”

“She’s so desperate. Evelyn is his mate; she needs to back off.”

“Some strays just don’t know when to leave.”

My vision blurred. My hands shook.

I stared at my reflection in the window, a hollow shell of the girl I used to be. Cliffe had been my everything. Now, I was nothing.

The night air was sharp as I stepped onto the balcony, the city lights stretching endlessly before me. For years, I’d clung to the hope that he’d look back, that I’d still matter.

But hope was a cruel lie.

The wind carried a whisper, a reminder of the person I’d lost and the one I’d never truly had.

After I had finished settling everything, I'll leave.

And I wouldn’t look back.