The first time—

On the very day Sylvia returned, I had asked him to accompany me for the pup’s bloodline check.

He told me, “Something came up. You go first. I’ll meet you there later.”

But I waited until the moon rose high, and still, he never came.

Later, on Fox News, I saw him—Chisel—holding a bouquet of blazing roses at the airport, his usually frozen expression softened into a smile.

A smile I remembered once belonging to me.

Back then, his smile was always paired with a reprimand:

“You are my Luna now. Why would you wear such revealing clothes for other wolves to see? I’ll get jealous.”

And I had foolishly reveled in that jealousy, mistaking it for love.

But Sylvia—

She didn’t need to do anything. Simply by standing there, she was given everything.

The second time—

On the third day of Sylvia’s return, my was in heat.

Because of the pup, I couldn’t take suppressants. I endured the night alone, clutching his shirt, clinging to the faint trace of his scent to survive until dawn.

The next morning, Facebook showed me the truth—Chisel and Sylvia at a candlelit dinner, with a caption beneath:

“The most beautiful girl deserves the perfect evening.”

I swallowed the bitterness burning in my throat, my voice steady in a way that surprised even myself.

“Alright.”

He blinked, as if he hadn’t expected me to agree so easily.

But no matter what he thought, he would never guess—

I was already planning to leave him.

If I was leaving anyway, nothing else mattered anymore.

All the disappointments, the buried grievances, rose up like scars finally torn open.

I remembered calling him during that heat, whispering into the phone, my voice trembling. And his answer had cut me deeper than claws:

“Be good, Leah. I’m exhausted. You make things harder when you cling like this. But I can’t abandon my subordinates for you. I am Alpha.”

So, I had forced myself to endure, to understand, to wait until the following afternoon.

When I finally felt his scent brushing against mine… it was tainted.

Carrying Sylvia’s fragrance.

The third time—

A stormy night, I was ambushed by Rogues. Shaking, bleeding, I called him.

“Leah, I can’t always be there by your side. Don’t throw tantrums just to make me come running. Using lies like this—it’s wrong.”

It wasn’t until the enforcement team confirmed my injuries that he realized the truth.

But instead of remorse, his words cut me again:

“If you had done your Luna’s duties properly, how could I doubt you?”

By then, I had lost so much blood that I couldn’t even hold my wolf form. I thought I would die.

And still, I whispered through the pain:

“Chisel, if I live through this, I’ll give you one last chance. My love has limits.”

Maybe pity moved him in that moment. His tone softened, almost gentle:

“Alright. Next time, I won’t ignore you and the pup.”

I believed him.

I believed him until now.

But he never treasured that final chance.

“Leah, Sylvia still hasn’t eaten. If you won’t fetch something for her, I’ll take her myself. You should go home first.”

His voice snapped me out of my thoughts, casual, without an ounce of guilt.

“Alright.” My reply was hollow, mechanical.

“What are you holding?” His tone sharpened suddenly, suspicion creeping in.

My fingers clenched tighter around the hospital slip in my pocket.

“Nothing.”

Ruby scoffed inside me, her growl dripping with scorn. “If he hadn’t severed the mate bond, he’d already know.”

I shoved the papers deeper into my pocket, my steps never faltering.

“You… you have another check-up soon, don’t you?”

His voice wavered, tinged with panic.

“When I’m done taking care of Sylvia, I’ll come with you. I’ll take you to the hospital.”

My body froze at his words. That pup… it would always remain a thorn lodged deep within my heart.

“We’ll talk about it later,” I said quietly, turning my gaze on him. My voice was calm, but it carried the edge of finality. “Chisel, I told you—there was only one last chance.”

“What?” His brows furrowed, as though my words were in a language he didn’t understand. “Leah, what last chance? That was just a joke. You weren’t supposed to take it seriously, and I won’t either. Once Sylvia’s foot heals, I’ll come back. I’ll be with you… and our pup.”

For a fleeting second, guilt flickered in his eyes. But it died as quickly as it came.

The next moment, he was gone again—arm draped around Sylvia, not even sparing me a glance as they walked away.

Watching their backs vanish, I swore silently to myself: Chisel, from this day forward, you will never have another chance to hurt me.

On the fourth day in the hospital, when my strength had mostly returned, I drew in a deep breath and pressed the call button on my phone. “Mom.”

For once, I wanted to live for myself. Not for duty, not for appearances—just for me.

I was done begging for scraps of affection.

“What now? Your father and I are at the beach! Don’t call us unless it’s important.”

“I’m ending the bond with Chisel.”

Silence on the other end. Then fury.

“What did you just say? Are you insane?”

I inhaled, steadying my voice.

“Mom, I’m not asking for your opinion. I’m informing you. I’m done.”

The line went dead quiet, heavy with disappointment. Finally, her voice came back, clipped and cold: “Wait until Kane makes the deal. Then we’ll discuss it.”

“You only have two weeks.” I hung up before she could say more.

At that moment, the Pack Doctor came in with her assistants, smiling gently.

“Mrs. Leah, let’s check you over. See if you’re ready to be discharged today.”

They fussed with the equipment, murmuring to each other in hushed voices:

“Did you hear? That noble-born lady Sylvia was treated here. Snake bite, they said.”

“Pfft, I saw the wound. Barely a scratch. Didn’t need hospitalization at all. She just got discharged this morning.”

“Who was that handsome man with her, though? The one who stayed in her room day and night? Is he her mate?”

“Don’t know, but spirits above, the way he doted on her… I wish I had a mate like that.”

Their words pierced straight into me.

Once, they would have crushed me with jealousy. After all, I was the true Luna, his mate.

But now… now it only felt empty.

Because in two weeks, all of it would be over.

“Mrs. Leah, you’ve recovered well. You can go home today,” the Pack Doctor said warmly, then tilted her head in curiosity. “No one coming to pick you up? No family visiting these days either. You’ve handled everything on your own—it can’t be easy.”

“No one,” I said with a hollow laugh.

“Life really isn’t fair,” she muttered with a sigh, before leaving me to pack my things.

I slung my backpack over my shoulder and left the hospital.

But when I pushed open the door to the house, I froze.

Chisel was there.

Wearing an apron.

Standing in the kitchen with steam rising around him, the faint scent of porridge filling the air.

Three years of bond—and I had never seen him cook before.

For the briefest of moments, hope dared to bloom inside me.

Had he finally… come to his senses?

But when he turned and saw me, there was no joy in his eyes.

Only reproach.

“Where have you been? You’re four, five months pregnant, Leah! Why are you wandering around? Shouldn’t you be resting like a good Luna?”

The backpack slipped from my hand, thudding to the floor. That fragile spark of hope extinguished instantly, drowned by his words.

Ruby’s voice, weak from the damage of our miscarriage, rasped in my head:

“He hasn’t even restored the mate bond. He still thinks you’re carrying the pup.”

I stared at his busy figure, the apron tied neatly around his waist.

How ironic.

That porridge probably wasn’t for me at all. It was for Sylvia—newly discharged, in need of nourishment.

And me?

I was nothing but an afterthought.

So be it.

After all, there were only two weeks left between us.