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.

The Fenris who had always kept his distance with me, always maintained that careful restraint, always treating our mating bond like nothing more than a territorial arrangement—that same Alpha showered Aurora with unconditional devotion and fierce protection.

I had realized it far too late.

I had to shatter completely before I could admit it was time to sever the bond.

"Lyra." She lifted her head suddenly, her pale eyes carrying a cautious, probing gleam. "Do you think it's... strange? The way I feel about Fenris?"

I watched her in silence.

Her scheming lacked any real subtlety. Her possessiveness over Fenris was almost embarrassingly obvious, her scent spiking with it whenever she spoke his name.

She had even said these things directly to me—his bonded mate, at least by oath.

But I found myself smiling.

Playing along, I kept my voice gentle. "It's not strange. I think Fenris cares about you very much too."

"Then, Lyra..." Her voice dropped to barely a whisper, her scent turning sweet with anticipation. "Would you give him up for me?"

I looked into those eyes brimming with expectation. My tone stayed flat. "Maybe."

I did not mention that I was already preparing for Bond Rejection.

I was not about to hand her any certainties ahead of time.

But she seemed thoroughly satisfied with my vague answer. A smile spread across her face—almost triumphant—as if Fenris were already within her grasp, as if she could already feel his claiming bite on her throat.

On the journey back to the estate, Aurora slept soundly in the back of the carriage, her breathing soft and even.

Fenris glanced at me through the reflection in the window glass, his voice low and apologetic. "Sweetheart, next time I'll definitely announce our bond to the pack."

I just smiled softly. "It's fine. We have an arranged bond. I understand."

Something flickered in his golden eyes when he saw how calm I was. A thread of unease he could not quite name, his wolf stirring beneath his skin.

"A week at most," he added quickly. "I'll have everything sorted out with the Pack Council."

"We're here." I cut him off, turning to look out the window. The carriage had already stopped before the gates of the Alpha's Keep.

One day became one week. One week became one moon cycle. One moon cycle became one full turning of seasons.

His promises meant nothing to me anymore.

Five years of this bond—just a dream woven from moonlight and false hope.

And now that I had woken, it was time to gather my belongings and leave this den behind.

Outside the window, the territory's boundary torches flickered on and off in the night wind.

Just like my hopes over these five years. Kindled again and again. Extinguished again and again.

But now, I had finally learned.

I would stop waiting for a light that was never meant to shine on me.

The night deepened, the twin moons rising high above the mountain peaks.

Fenris wrapped his arms around me from behind, his warm breath brushing past my ear, carrying his familiar pine and smoke scent. His voice was low and tender.

"Sweetheart, how about I take you to the Ashvale Bloodline Keep soon? To see your parents?"

I stiffened slightly and turned to look at him. "Why the sudden visit?"

"You've seemed down lately." His fingers traced slow circles on my shoulder, his touch gentle in a way that felt almost foreign. "I thought returning to your birth pack might lift your spirits."

I thought of the Ashvale territory back home.

Every tree, every stream, every hunting trail there held memories of our childhood together—back when we had run through the forests as pups, before bonds and duty and heartbreak.

I was still lost in thought when he added casually, "Oh, and I received word that your father hasn't been well. Good timing to check on him."

"Father is ill?" I sat up abruptly, my wolf surging forward in alarm. "Why didn't I know about this?"

He soothed me immediately, pulling me back against his chest. "Don't worry. I only found out because the Den Keeper let it slip during her report. She said it's nothing serious—just the strain of his years catching up with him."

He tucked me closer into his arms. "So let's go see him."

I exhaled in relief and nodded, my wolf settling reluctantly.

I could not explain what I was hoping for, but strangely, that night he was unusually restrained. He simply held me—no wandering hands seeking more, no attempt to deepen our scent-bond through intimacy.

The change nagged at me, and an old pack saying surfaced unbidden in my mind.

When an Alpha suddenly loses interest in his mate's warmth, it's usually because his hunger has already been satisfied elsewhere.

I gripped the edge of the fur blanket, forcing myself not to follow that thought any further, even as my wolf whimpered softly in the depths of my chest.