Nathanie had already taken several strides away when he slowed.

For a second, it seemed like he might come back.

Instead, he half-turned, his expression distant. “You’re a healer, Adriana. It’s not that bad. You can treat it yourself, can’t you?”

Not that bad?

Only moments ago, he had insisted it was serious.

Or maybe seriousness depended on who was hurt.

A quiet laugh almost escaped her. In his world, some wolves bled gold. Others barely registered.

The memory that surfaced next made her throat tighten.

Years ago, during one lazy summer evening in the Alpha manor, she had sliced her finger while cutting fruit in the kitchen. It hadn’t even broken skin properly—just a thin red line across her nail.

Nathanie had reacted as if she’d been gravely wounded.

He had lifted her onto the couch, scolded her for being careless, and insisted on cleaning and wrapping the tiny cut himself. He had hovered for the rest of the night, refusing to let her move.

Back then, she had believed that kind of care meant forever.

Now, standing with a swelling ankle and watching him hesitate over whether she was worth the inconvenience, she felt something inside her quietly fracture.

Her eyes stung. She turned her face away before he could see.

As she shifted her weight, her gaze fell on the edge of his coat—one button missing.

The sight dragged her back to another night.

Just a week ago, the Healing Division had hosted a gathering in a neighboring territory. She had drunk more berry wine than she intended. By the time it ended, the roads were nearly empty, and the transport wolves had long since retired for the night.

After waiting in the cold for what felt like hours, she finally used her communication stone.

“Nathanie,” she had said, her words slightly blurred. “I can’t find a ride. Could you come get me?”

On the other end, she could hear him running—his breathing steady, controlled.

Olivia’s laughter drifted faintly in the background.

“I’m out with Olivia,” he had replied briskly. “It’s late, and I can’t let her return alone. Wait a couple of hours. I’ll escort her back first. If you can’t wait, take whatever transport you find and tell me the cost.”

He hadn’t even paused to consider that she had already said there was no transport available.

Olivia’s safety had been immediate.

Adriana’s had been optional.

In the end, she walked.

Twenty kilometers through dim forest paths, her heels blistered and her wolf exhausted.

Headlights eventually cut through the darkness behind her—an expensive black Audi A8 gliding to a halt.

Nathanie stepped out, furious.

“Are you trying to be dramatic?” he snapped. “I circled the spot you mentioned three times. You weren’t there.”

“I waited—I couldn’t—” she began.

He didn’t let her finish. He grabbed her wrist, pulled her into the car, and slammed the door shut hard enough that something metallic scattered across the floor.

Later, she realized one of the buttons from his coat had broken off during his outburst.

From that night onward, she stopped telling herself stories.

She knew where she stood.

Forcing her thoughts back to the present, she looked at him calmly.

“I’m part of the Healing Corps too,” she said gently. “I’ll manage. You should go. Don’t keep… whoever it is… waiting.”

Whatever faint flicker of hesitation he might have had disappeared at her easy tone.

He stepped forward, brushing a quick kiss against her forehead. “Alright. Rest. I’ll come by later.”

The gesture felt routine—automatic.

She nodded just as lightly.

Without another glance, he turned and strode down the corridor toward the manor exit.

Only after he vanished from sight did she lift her head fully. Her fingers moved instinctively to the corners of her eyes, wiping away the dampness before anyone could notice.

She tried to count how many times he had left her mid-conversation for Olivia.

She gave up halfway through.

And Olivia’s sweet, breathy voice earlier? Any trained healer could tell it carried no trace of illness. There had been no weakness in her tone.

Yet Nathanie always responded as though summoned by instinct.

Adriana adjusted her balance and made her way back toward the infirmary wing, her limp pronounced now that the adrenaline had faded.

A few pack members lounging near the entrance spotted her and grinned.

“Well, Luna-to-be,” one of them called teasingly, “you and the Alpha need to save that energy for the full moon. Don’t overdo it during daylight hours.”

Another chimed in, laughter in his voice. “Careful, Adriana. If our Alpha gets exhausted and can’t lead the next border patrol, the elders might hold you responsible.”

She managed a tight smile and raised both hands in mock surrender.

“It’s nothing like that,” she said, lifting her trouser leg slightly to reveal the swelling around her ankle. “I wasn’t watching where I was going and paid for it.”

They chuckled sympathetically, their assumptions unchanged.

Adriana lowered the fabric again and stepped inside her office.

The door closed softly behind her.

In the quiet, she allowed herself one long breath.

Very soon, she told herself, none of this would matter anymore.

By the time Adriana finally sat down and peeled back the fabric around her ankle, the bruising had deepened into an angry shade of purple. The swelling was far worse than before. Walking on it earlier—out of stubbornness more than necessity—had clearly made it deteriorate.

A sharp breath escaped Dr. Donovan, who was reviewing patient charts beside her. “That looks bad,” he muttered, then immediately waved over a passing nurse. “Go inform Alpha Reed. If his future Luna limps around like this and we ignored it, we’ll all hear about it later.”

Adriana’s head snapped up. “No—wait, don’t call him—”

But the nurse had already hurried down the corridor before she could finish.

She exhaled, shoulders sagging. After a brief hesitation, she reached for her communication stone and sent Nathanie a message.

[Someone noticed my ankle and sent a nurse to tell you. I tried to stop them. Please don’t make a fuss over it.]

She stared at the screen afterward, waiting for the faint glow that would signal his reply.

Nothing came.

When the nurse returned several minutes later, her steps were slower this time. She avoided Adriana’s eyes at first.

“Alpha Reed said he’s aware,” she began carefully. “But… Lady Olivia is in his office. They’re talking. He didn’t say he would come.”

The room seemed to grow smaller.

Adriana kept her gaze lowered, focusing on the edge of her desk as though the grain of the wood required intense study.

“He must be occupied,” she said quietly. The words felt like they scraped her throat on the way out.

Her stone vibrated in her palm.

A voice message.

She opened it almost instantly.

Nathanie’s voice came through—steady, composed, distant.

“Got it.”

Two simple words.

No concern. No question. No instruction to rest.

Just acknowledgment.

It felt as though every wolf in the infirmary could hear the emptiness in it.

Before the silence grew too suffocating, the receptionist called out from the front.

“Healer Adriana? A patient is requesting you.”

The excuse came like a lifeline.

“I’m coming,” she replied, rising too quickly and wincing as pain flared through her ankle.

The need to escape the room—escape their sympathetic glances—felt painfully familiar.

The last time she’d wanted to disappear this badly had been during her engagement feast.

That evening had been meant to mark the formal announcement of her union with Nathanie before the pack elders.

He had arrived late.

Hours late.

“Something urgent came up at the infirmary,” he had said, as though she hadn’t spent the entire evening answering polite but pointed questions alone.

For her, it had been a milestone.

For him, an afterthought.

Later, whispers had reached her ears. He had been seen leaving the territory early that afternoon—with a woman.

She hadn’t needed clarification.

She knew.

Now, adjusting her white healer’s coat over her shoulders, she forced herself forward despite the pain.

The rest of the afternoon blurred into duty. Patients came and went. She cleaned wounds, prescribed herbs, issued instructions.

She didn’t allow herself to think.

Only when dusk settled beyond the infirmary windows did she finally sit back.

As she stood, agony shot up her leg, nearly buckling her knees.

She glanced down.

The swelling had worsened, puffed and discolored.

She hadn’t even treated it.

A tired sigh left her lips as she lowered herself back into her chair.

Nathanie had said he would pick her up.

She decided to wait.

The corridors gradually emptied. Voices faded. Night-shift wolves replaced the daytime staff.

Still no sign of him.

No message.

No call.

The silence pressed heavily against her chest.

Finally, she pushed herself upright again, determination overriding sense.

She would go to his office.

She managed only a handful of steps before her ankle throbbed so violently that cold sweat broke across her skin.

She leaned against the wall, breathing shallowly.

This was pointless.

With trembling fingers, she retrieved her communication stone and called him instead.

He answered quickly.

“Yes, Adriana?” His tone was calm—neutral, almost casual.

For a second, she wondered if he truly didn’t remember.

If the promise had meant so little.

She swallowed, pride burning in her throat.

“You told me earlier you’d come for me after your shift,” she said softly. “I’m still here.”

There was silence on the other end of the line.

For several long seconds, all Adriana could hear was faint breathing.

When Nathanie finally spoke again, his voice carried an edge of discomfort. “Adriana… I’m sorry. Something urgent came up at the manor, so I left earlier. Stay where you are. I’ll come back and get you.”

As he spoke, she could hear movement in the background—plates clinking, chairs scraping lightly against the floor.

Then Olivia’s bright, lively voice drifted clearly through the stone.

“Nathanie! Dinner’s almost done. Where are you heading?”

Adriana closed her eyes briefly and pressed her fingers against her temple. A thin, bitter smile curved her lips.

“It’s fine,” she said evenly. “Don’t bother coming. I’ll handle it myself.”

This time, his pause lasted barely a heartbeat.

“…Alright,” he agreed. “Don’t rush. I made something special tonight. It’ll still be warm when you get back.”

The call ended.

Adriana remained standing in the dim corridor, the silence afterward heavier than the conversation itself. Her chest felt hollow, yet the ache inside only deepened.

Her fingers brushed against the folded transfer contract tucked safely inside her coat pocket.

How was she going to make him agree to her leaving the territory?

Leaning her shoulder against the stone wall for support, she forced herself forward. Each step sent a sharp pulse of pain through her ankle. By the time she reached the main road outside the infirmary grounds, sweat had dampened her clothes despite the cool evening air.

After what felt like forever, she managed to flag down a passing cab.

The moment she sank into the seat, she realized just how drained she was. Her hands were clammy, her skin pale.

The driver glanced at her through the rearview mirror. “Miss, you look unwell. Shouldn’t you call your boyfriend to pick you up?”

Adriana let her head rest against the window, exhaling softly. A faint, humorless laugh slipped out. “I don’t have a boyfriend. Just a fiancé.”

“Then call him,” the driver insisted gently. “You look like you might faint. No fiancé would want something happening to his mate.”

She gave a quiet scoff, eyes fixed on the passing lights outside. “That would be nice. Unfortunately, he’s occupied… with someone else.”

The driver frowned slightly before muttering, “That doesn’t sound very dependable.”

She let out a soft chuckle.

“Dependable?” she repeated. “I’d call it indifference.”

Every detail of their upcoming mating ceremony—the invitations sent to allied packs, the arrangement of their shared quarters, the decorations for the hall—had been handled by her alone.

When she once asked Nathanie for his thoughts, he had replied flatly, “You’re better at these things. Why ask me about every small decision? Handle it.”

Yet when everything was arranged, he had found fault in nearly all of it.

In the end, it was Olivia who adjusted the décor until he finally approved.

Thinking about it now left Adriana feeling tired beyond measure.

The cab pulled to a stop outside the Alpha manor.

The distance from the gates to the main entrance was short—no more than a few hundred meters—but it took her nearly half an hour to cross it. Every step felt like walking through fire.

When she finally reached the door, she reached instinctively for her keys.

Her hand came up empty.

She froze.

Then she knocked.

It took a while before the door opened.

Nathanie stood there, his expression already edged with irritation.

“Where are your keys?” he asked sharply. “Why do you keep knocking instead of letting yourself in?”

Adriana didn’t answer immediately. She stepped inside slowly, the pain in her ankle forcing her to move with care.

Only when she reached the living room did she set down her bag and retrieve her keyring.

“My spare key?” she said calmly. “You removed it last week to give to Olivia. Don’t you remember?”

His brows knit together as the memory surfaced. The annoyance faded slightly, replaced by a trace of awkwardness.

“I’ve been overwhelmed lately,” he replied. “You could’ve just made another copy. You have time for that sort of thing.”

Adriana offered a small smile, one that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

She had long ago stopped expecting fairness.

To Nathanie, anything concerning Olivia required immediate attention.

Her needs could always wait.

She moved toward the dining room, steadying herself against the wall.

Olivia was already seated at the table.

The moment she saw Adriana, she jumped up with exaggerated enthusiasm.

“Adriana, you’re finally home!” Olivia chirped brightly, hurrying over and looping her arm through Adriana’s as if they were the closest of friends. She even stuck out her tongue playfully, her smile wide and innocent.