So in his mind, I was simply here at the Healer's Lodge to rest and let my body mend.

I watched him in silence, studying the sharp angles of his jaw, the way his wolf's presence barely stirred beneath his skin when he looked at me.

Every time I'd felt unwell before, I would let my scent turn soft and pleading, nuzzling against him, begging him through our bond to stay close.

But this time, I hadn't sent a single howl-call.

And he hadn't remembered I existed until a full week later.

Seventeen missed calls or none at all—in the end, the result was exactly the same.

Why torture myself?

"I figured you were too occupied with pack matters," I said softly, keeping my scent carefully neutral. "I didn't want to burden you."

Something flickered across his face, a brief shadow passing through those amber eyes. He stepped forward to embrace me, his arms wrapping around my smaller frame. "I'm your mate. You could never burden me."

I didn't pull away, but I didn't lean into his warmth either.

The moment my head rested against his shoulder, breathing in the familiar pine and storm scent of him, the question slipped out before I could stop it: "The same way you feel about Aurora?"

I regretted it instantly.

It made me sound like a jealous Omega fighting for scraps of her Alpha's attention.

His body went rigid for a split second, his wolf stirring with something I couldn't read, before he recovered. He chuckled, stroking my hair with practiced ease. "Of course it's the same."

Just then, Kael's howl-call came through the message-sigil on my wrist.

I kept it brief in front of Fenris—a few short responses through the magical link before closing the connection.

His brow furrowed deeper, dark eyes narrowing. "Come to think of it, I ran into Raven's mate a few days ago at the border patrol gathering. Couldn't tell they were heading for a Bond Severance."

"It's Raven's decision alone," I said, keeping my voice even. "Her mate doesn't know yet."

"Isn't dissolving a mating bond supposed to be a two-wolf decision?" Confusion clouded his handsome features.

I looked him straight in the eye, holding his gaze without flinching. "Because Raven discovered her mate was secretly meeting up with his first intended—the one he'd courted before her—behind her back. She caught traces of the other female's scent on him. She couldn't accept it, so she decided to file the petition quietly with the Mooncourt. If she confronted him directly, he'd probably refuse to agree right away and invoke his Alpha rights."

Righteous indignation flashed across his features, his wolf bristling visibly beneath his skin. "Then she absolutely should sever the bond. A wolf like that is unworthy of his rank."

I lowered my gaze and said nothing.

Fenris knew Raven's mate personally—they'd hunted together, shared territory patrols.

Given how he always prided himself on knowing everything about his inner circle, there was no way he didn't know whether Rowan had a first intended or not.

Yet he hadn't hesitated for even a second before agreeing with me.

Which meant his mind was already somewhere else entirely.

"How much longer on Aurora's Bond Dissolution cooling period?" I asked suddenly.

"Fifteen more days." The answer came without a moment's thought—he'd clearly been counting down each moonrise.

I gazed at the pale sunlight streaming through the lodge window, watching dust motes dance in the golden beams. "That should line up nicely, then."

"What?" He blinked, confusion rippling through his scent.

"Nothing."

I smiled and let it drop.

His message-sigil pulsed with an incoming call.

This wolf who hadn't spared a single thought for my seventeen missed howl-calls now answered on reflex, like a trained response burned into his very bones.

"Hello, Aurora?"

His voice turned gentle instantly, all the hard edges of the Alpha melting away.

Through the sigil's connection came Aurora's tearful whimper: "Fenris, I'm alone in the den and I'm so scared. There are strange scents near the boundary."

"Don't be scared. I'm on my way." His tone was soothing, tender in a way I hadn't heard directed at me in years. He glanced at me almost unconsciously, something like guilt flickering through his expression.

I watched the scene unfold with perfect calm. There was nothing left in my chest to ache—the place where our bond should have thrummed felt hollow and still.

So that was how it worked.

When Aurora was by his side, he knew any incoming call couldn't possibly be from me—so the message-sigil didn't matter.

When Aurora wasn't around, he was terrified of missing a single whisper from her.

After he closed the connection, his restlessness was palpable. His wolf paced beneath his skin, eager to run to her.

Maybe my comment about the first intended had struck a nerve somewhere deep. He didn't immediately announce he was leaving.

"Go handle your pack duties," I offered, my voice perfectly steady. "Don't let me keep you from your responsibilities."

Relief washed over him, so obvious it might have been funny if it weren't so painful. He rattled off a hasty reminder: "When are you being released from the healers' care? Send me a sigil-message and I'll escort you back to the den."

Then he strode out of the room, his long legs carrying him away with barely contained urgency.

He didn't look back once.

Another week passed. I packed my belongings, ready to be discharged from the Healer's Lodge.

I sent him three howl-calls. Every single one went unanswered, the connection simply fading into silence.

Meanwhile, Aurora's latest appearance at the Lunar Celebration had spread across every pack's territory—her graceful dance, her radiant smile, the way she'd stood beside Fenris's empty seat as if she already belonged there. The story had traveled through a hundred dens and counting.

In the memory-crystal projection, Aurora displayed her so-called intended mate's devotion without a trace of shame.

Rare moonstone jewelry from the Northern territories. Tribute ledgers showing wealth transfers. Scent-marked images from pilgrimages across distant pack lands. Intimate captures of him preparing her meals in the den kitchen, tending to her after hunts, kneeling to massage her feet after long ceremonies.

The howl-comments beneath the shared projection overflowed with envy.

This is what a dream courtship looks like.

Wealthy AND devoted? My wolf is howling with jealousy.

Aurora never bothered to clarify their actual bond status. She let every pack member assume whatever they wished.

When Fenris finally returned my howl-call, his excuse was laughably thin.

"I was occupied with territory matters earlier. Didn't catch your signal. What do you need?"

Just as I suspected—he'd completely forgotten he was supposed to escort me from the Healer's Lodge.

Through the connection, I could hear Aurora's laughter, clear as moonlight on still water.

Yet he didn't miss a beat. "I'm in the middle of an alliance negotiation. If it's not urgent, can we speak when I return to the den?"

"It's fine," I said quietly. "I just wanted to know where you were."

After severing the howl-call, I opened my personal ledger and traced the marked dates with one claw.

One week remained in Aurora's bond dissolution cooling period.

Two weeks until my own Bond Rejection agreement took effect.

Soon.

There was no point in letting my wolf grieve anymore.

Hadn't I already decided to release this bond?

When I pushed open the heavy oak doors of the Alpha's Keep, I almost thought I'd wandered into the wrong den.

This place that had held five years of my secret mating was now completely transformed.

The last time I departed, I'd already packed up most of my belongings. But now, Aurora had clearly taken advantage of my absence to dispose of whatever traces of my scent remained.

I walked slowly toward the Alpha's private bathing chamber.

On Fenris's side of the stone vanity sat a pair of matching grooming brushes—one carved from red cedar, one from blue spruce. His and hers.

I stood frozen, my enhanced senses picking up every detail in the room. Everywhere I looked, things came in pairs.

Matching drinking vessels. Matching fur-lined slippers. Matching embroidered cushions bearing intertwined wolf motifs.

Anyone walking in would think this was some scent-bonded pair's intimate sanctuary.

I suddenly remembered the first year of our secret mating, when I'd excitedly commissioned a set of paired ceremonial cups for us.

Fenris had barely glanced at them. "What's the purpose of such sentimental trinkets?"

I never asked for anything like that again.

I drew a deep breath, forced myself to look past all of it, and returned to my small chamber to pack up what little remained of my things.

Fenris's double standards were nothing new. I'd experienced them so many times my wolf had gone numb to the sting.

I boxed up my last few pieces of clothing and a handful of leather-bound journals, summoned a pack courier, and had everything transported back to my parents' Bloodline Keep.

That evening, Fenris and I each received message-sigils inviting us to a gathering hosted by allied pack members at a prestigious estate.

Since the invitations had been sent separately—one to the Ashvale bloodline, one to the Duskmoors—we arrived on our own.

When I reached the moonlit vineyard grounds of the hosting pack, I saw Fenris helping Aurora descend from his carriage.

He caught my scent before he saw me, and something flickered across his features—discomfort, maybe guilt. Still, he approached. "I apologize. I should have sent a pack guard to escort you."

"No need." I kept my expression polished and pleasant. "I have my own escort."

As guests continued to arrive, someone asked curiously, "Alpha Duskmoor, when did you and the Ashvale daughter become so familiar?"

Fenris's mouth opened, but nothing emerged.

He clearly remembered his promise to publicly acknowledge our bond at formal gatherings. But then he glanced at Aurora, her arm wrapped possessively around his, her scent deliberately mingled with his, and the words died in his throat.

I smiled easily. "Have you forgotten? Alpha Duskmoor is my pack leader now. Of course we're familiar. I serve as his Omega Pack Liaison."

"The eldest daughter of the Ashvale bloodline, serving as Alpha Duskmoor's Omega assistant?" The wolf's tone was half-teasing, half-pitying. "Isn't that beneath your station? Don't tell me you still haven't released your attachment to him. The Alpha already has a mate."

Low howls of amusement rippled through the gathered wolves.

My unrequited feelings for Fenris were an open secret among these elite packs—known to everyone except him.

Fenris went completely still.

Before he could even react, I'd already brushed it off with a casual reply. "That's ancient history. Spend enough time serving as Alpha Duskmoor's Pack Liaison and you learn to let such things roll off your pelt." I paused, letting my gaze drift thoughtfully across the gathering. "Though now that you mention it, perhaps it is time I sought a position that offers greater challenge."

A few light remarks, and the tension in the great hall dissolved like morning mist.

But when I mentioned leaving the pack, something flickered across Fenris's face. His smile came a beat too late, his wolf stirring beneath the surface. "The Omega Liaison is far too capable. I couldn't possibly release her from my service."

Someone else chimed in, their tone carefully curious. "Alpha Duskmoor, why didn't you bring your mate tonight? Your bonding ceremony was so private—we barely caught wind of it."

He gave a vague half-answer, his scent revealing nothing. "She's occupied with other matters."

The gathered wolves took the hint and moved on. No one pressed further, and no one questioned why Aurora—who technically had no formal ties to the Duskmoor Pack anymore—was present at the gathering at all.

Once Fenris was pulled away to share ceremonial drinks with the Pack Captains, Aurora sidled up to me, her voice dripping with rehearsed innocence. Her scent carried notes of false sweetness. "Sister-by-bond... oh wait, I mean, Omega Ashvale. Fenris mentioned you two have an arranged mating—a contract bond. Is that true?"

I looked at this she-wolf—her own bond dissolved, yet still playing the wide-eyed innocent—and kept my expression neutral, my own scent carefully controlled. "Yes."

She visibly relaxed, a saccharine smile spreading across her delicate features. "Oh, that's such a relief. I was worried you actually had feelings for him."

The words hung in the air for a moment before she caught herself, waving her hands in exaggerated apology. "I didn't mean anything by that! It's just... I'm still not used to the idea of Fenris being someone's bonded mate."

She ducked her head, fingers twisting nervously at the hem of her ceremonial gown. The picture of a naive young she-wolf who didn't know any better.

But I caught the glint in her amber eyes. Sharp. Calculating. Gone in a flash.

I lifted my crystal goblet and took a slow sip.

The cold honeyed mead slid down my throat.

Watching her clumsy little performance, I almost wanted to laugh.

Five years. We'd each been bonded for five years. And now she wasn't used to it?

"Is that so?" I set down my glass, a faint smile curving my lips. "Your adjustment period is... impressive."

Aurora clearly hadn't expected me to stay this composed. Surprise flickered across her face before she could hide it, her scent spiking briefly with confusion.

Something shifted in her expression—like she'd just confirmed a suspicion. Convinced now that I truly felt nothing for Fenris, the hostility in her eyes dimmed, her wolf settling.

The next second, she looped her arm through mine, her voice going deliberately soft. "You don't understand, Omega Ashvale. I really do depend on Fenris."

Her tone was light, almost breathy, but underneath it ran an unmistakable thread of smugness.

"This bond dissolution—Fenris handled almost everything for me. When my former mate's pack showed up at my lodging making a scene, howling threats and demanding tribute, Fenris summoned his Mooncourt Advocates in the middle of the night to drive them off. During the territory division, he pulled influence through the Duskmoor bloodline's connections to make sure I received the best possible outcome."

The more she talked, the brighter her eyes became, her wolf practically preening.

"Even my nightmare of a former mother-by-bond—Fenris silenced her with just a few commanding words."

Her voice dropped conspiratorially, a flush creeping across her pale cheeks.

"The truth is, I never bonded with my former mate because I loved him. I had no choice—pack politics demanded it. But looking back now, fate really is strange, isn't it? Fenris and I—we share no blood. We're not pack-siblings anymore either."

The message couldn't have been clearer if she'd howled it at the moon.

She'd only bonded with someone else because of what the packs might say. But now? Now there was nothing standing between her and Fenris.

I swirled the mead in my goblet, following her thread. "So what you're saying is... you have feelings for your pack-brother?"

Her face flushed crimson, her scent flooding with embarrassment and something deeper. She dropped her gaze, her voice shrinking to barely a whisper. "I don't know. It's just... I've always depended on him. Ever since we were pups."

A dreamy, nostalgic quality crept into her words.

"When I had a fever as a young pup, Fenris would stay up all night by my sleeping furs, keeping watch. When young wolves in the training grounds bullied me, he went straight to their dens and made them submit. Even when I experienced my first heat—" She let out a small, embarrassed laugh. "—Fenris was the one who ran to the healers' lodge to fetch me suppressants and cooling herbs."

I listened to all of it.

And felt nothing.

It was only in that moment that I truly understood.

I'd grown up alongside Fenris too. Childhood companions, people might have called us. Our packs had been allied since before we could walk.

But I could never compete with that—with a bond forged from sharing the same den, the same meals, the same everything. The scent of home woven into every memory.