The first light of dawn barely brushed the horizon as I set out for my early shift patrolling the territory. The air was crisp, and a faint mist clung to the ground, wrapping the world in a veil of quiet. After the morning briefing, I received a call from Lucian.

“Rowan, why didn’t you wake me up? You left without saying a word,” he said, his voice thick with annoyance.

In the past, I would have scrambled to make sure he was ready, laying out his clothes and preparing a hot breakfast to start his day. But things had changed; I was no longer his caretaker. I was his mate, and I deserved more than to be overlooked.

“Looks like you’ll have to fend for yourself today,” I replied, my tone detached.

“What am I supposed to wear?” he shot back, frustration clear in his voice.

“Choose whatever you want. Everything you need is in the closet,” I said, trying to keep my composure.

“But they’re all wrinkled! Didn’t you take care of that?” he complained. A second message buzzed in almost immediately: You didn’t make breakfast either?

Before I could respond, the pack's Beta approached, a grin lighting up his face. “Rowan! Fantastic news! The council approved your application for advanced training. You’ll be heading to the Northern Cliffs next month!”

In the past, I might have turned down such an opportunity, prioritizing Lucian’s needs over my own. But those days felt like faded memories.

“I accept,” I stated, my resolve firm as a fresh wave of determination surged within me.

“Great! Start preparing; this is a wonderful chance for you,” he said, his enthusiasm contagious. For the first time in ages, I felt the reins of my life slipping back into my hands.

The hours slipped by, filled with planning and anticipation. When I finally found a moment to breathe, my phone buzzed again. Lucian’s name flashed on the screen.

“Where are you? I’ve been waiting for dinner,” he complained, irritation seeping through the line.

“I swapped shifts with someone else. You might want to consider takeout,” I replied, striving for neutrality.

“Takeout? You mean you won’t be home? That’s... surprising,” he replied, a hint of disbelief coloring his words.

“Is there an issue?” I pressed, keeping my voice steady.

A pause hung in the air before he finally responded. “Just... don’t push yourself too hard.”

“Thanks for the concern,” I said flatly.

A heavy silence followed, stretching uncomfortably between us. Finally, Lucian broke it. “Rowan, are you upset with me?”

His question tugged at my lips, almost pulling a bitter smile from me. Was he genuinely this clueless, or was he simply indifferent? The answer didn’t matter anymore. I refused to carry anger for his sake.

No, I wouldn’t carry anything for him at all.

---

As the day wore on, my thoughts swirled around the upcoming training and what it meant for my future. I pictured myself in the Northern Cliffs, surrounded by new challenges and opportunities. I envisioned growing stronger, not just physically but mentally, reclaiming a part of myself I had lost along the way.

But Lucian’s irritation still lingered like an unwelcome shadow. I thought back to the way I had molded myself around him, trying to fit into the role he desired. I remembered the countless mornings I’d woken up early, tiptoeing around our home to ensure everything was perfect for him. But that version of myself felt like a stranger now. I was no longer willing to sacrifice my own needs for someone who barely noticed my absence.

I moved through the rest of my shift with a renewed sense of purpose. I spoke with other pack members about my training, their encouragement fueling my resolve. They saw potential in me that I had long neglected, and it felt exhilarating to finally believe in myself again.

Later, I found a quiet moment alone, standing at the edge of our territory, watching the sun rise higher in the sky. The light washed over everything, illuminating the path ahead of me. I took a deep breath, filling my lungs with the cool morning air, and felt a spark of excitement flicker to life inside me. This was my chance to break free, to carve out my own destiny, separate from Lucian’s expectations.

Just as I began to lose myself in my thoughts, my phone buzzed again. Lucian’s name flashed on the screen once more. I hesitated for a moment, feeling a twinge of annoyance at the prospect of another conversation that could easily derail my newfound clarity. But I answered, expecting the same frustration to spill over.

“Rowan, I really don’t understand why you left without telling me. It’s not like you,” he said, his voice more demanding than curious.

“Things have changed, Lucian. I’m not your personal assistant anymore. I have my own life to think about,” I replied, holding my ground.

“Is that what you really think? That I don’t appreciate you?” he shot back, an edge creeping into his tone.

“It doesn’t matter what you think,” I said sharply. “I need to take care of myself now, and that means not waiting around for you to decide what I should do.”

“Don’t you want to be with me? I thought we were a team,” he pressed, his voice softening as if trying to pull on my heartstrings.

“I want to be with someone who respects my choices,” I replied, frustration boiling just beneath the surface. “I’m tired of being an afterthought.”

Silence stretched again, thick and uncomfortable. Lucian finally sighed, the sound heavy with resignation. “Rowan, are you really angry with me?”

I couldn’t help but feel a flash of bitterness at his question. Did he truly not see how his actions had affected me? It was infuriating. But I was done fighting for someone who didn’t recognize my worth.

I said nothing to his question.

“Fine, do what you want,” he replied, his voice flat.

As I hung up, I felt a weight lift from my shoulders. The decision had been made. I would embrace my training and step into my own life, regardless of Lucian’s expectations.

His question brought a bitter smile to my lips. Was he truly this oblivious, or did he just not care? It didn’t matter anymore. I wouldn’t be angry, not for his sake. No, I wouldn’t be anything at all.

In a low, almost pleading tone, Lucian tried to justify himself. “Rowan, Ivy has been through so much raising a pup by herself. She doesn’t have anyone else in the pack to lean on. I’m just trying to help her out.”

His words cut deep, sharp and biting like claws on my skin. He always seemed to forget that I was alone in this pack too, reliant on him in the same way Ivy relied on him now.

“I get it,” I replied, keeping my voice steady. My calm exterior hid the storm swirling within me.

“Rowan, what does that even mean? Why are you speaking like that?” He was losing his grip, his voice escalating with anger.

“I said I get it,” I repeated, my calm voice turning steely, “Is that a problem?”

“Do you have to talk to me like this?” he snapped, irritation bleeding through his words.

“What do you want me to say?” I shot back, my frustration boiling over. The silence that followed was heavy, thick like fog in the forest. Finally, he muttered under his breath, “Fine, do whatever you want,” before abruptly hanging up.

Wasn’t it just typical? He used to call me clingy whenever I questioned why he was always with Ivy. And when I’d call to ask when he’d be home, I was the unreasonable one. Now, even my attempts to understand him turned me into the target of his ire.

I tossed my phone onto the counter with a weary sigh, pushing the encounter from my mind. There were more important things to focus on—like the pack documents sprawled across the table in front of me.

After my shift at the clinic ended, I took my time cleaning up, delaying my return to the den as long as possible. When I finally arrived home, Lucian was already gone, leaving only the lingering scent of him behind. I washed off the grime of the day and collapsed into bed, hoping sleep would offer some solace. Just as I started to drift into the realm of dreams, my phone buzzed incessantly, pulling me back to reality. It was Lucian.

“Rowan,” he gasped, his voice strained and filled with pain. “My stomach... it’s killing me.”

I mumbled a barely coherent response, but my exhaustion quickly overpowered my concern, pulling me back into a restless sleep. In the haze of dreams, I thought I heard him calling my name again, but it sounded far away, as if it were lost in the depths of a foggy forest. I pushed it aside, choosing the comfort of sleep over his distant pleas.

When I finally awoke to the creaking of the door, I found Lucian standing over me, pain etched into his features, his expression a mix of hurt and frustration.

“Rowan, why don’t you care anymore? You used to worry when I was in pain. You would make remedies and bring me potions,” he accused, disbelief ringing in his voice.

I remembered that version of myself clearly. There had been a time when Lucian had a similar stomachache, and I’d raced through pouring rain to deliver a special herbal remedy to him at the packhouse. I had shown up soaked and disheveled, only to be met with laughter from his packmates while Lucian stood by, unmoved and indifferent.

Afterward, he’d said to me, “Don’t come to the packhouse like that again, Rowan. It’s embarrassing.”

“Are you feeling any better now?” I asked, still half-asleep and rubbing my eyes. “We might be out of herbs, though. Maybe you should grab some from the healer’s hut.”

His jaw tightened, frustration flaring in his eyes. He grabbed my arm roughly, a low growl rumbling in his chest. “How long are you going to hold this grudge against Ivy, huh? I told you, there’s nothing between us!”

“Oh, is that right?” I replied, my calm demeanor in stark contrast to his rising anger.

With a frustrated snarl, Lucian stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him. For the first time in what felt like ages, I savored the silence that followed.

---

As the quiet enveloped me, I reflected on the chaos that had become our lives. Lucian had always been the center of my universe, but now it felt like I was orbiting a distant star, struggling to stay grounded. I had given so much of myself to him, only to feel like a ghost in my own home.

I forced myself to focus on the pack documents again, trying to distract myself from the ache in my chest. The words blurred together as I read, each line reminding me of the responsibilities I had taken on, yet Lucian’s shadow loomed large over my thoughts.

He was supposed to be my partner, my mate, but instead, he felt more like a stranger who took me for granted. My heart tightened at the thought of all those moments I had spent trying to prove my worth to him—days and nights filled with worry and care that seemed to go unnoticed.

After what felt like hours, I put the documents aside, realizing I couldn’t force myself to engage with them any longer. My mind drifted back to earlier conversations, each one a reminder of the growing distance between us.

I recalled the first time I felt that distance—when he had started spending so much time with Ivy. I had tried to be supportive, to understand, but each hour he was away felt like a dagger to my heart. I had been nothing but patient, but patience was wearing thin.

Couldn’t he see how hard I was trying? I remembered the countless nights I lay awake, worrying about him, and how now it seemed like those concerns were unreciprocated.

Just as I began to spiral deeper into my thoughts, my phone buzzed again. It was Lucian once more. I hesitated, unsure if I was ready for another round of accusations.

“Rowan,” he said, his voice softer this time but still laced with pain, “I... I didn’t mean to snap at you earlier.”

I felt a mixture of relief and frustration. It was good that he was reaching out, but why did it always feel like we were running in circles?

“Lucian, I’m not angry,” I said, my tone steady but firm.

“I’m trying to figure this out, Rowan, tell me what’s wrong.” he replied, sounding genuinely conflicted.

I said nothing to him.

There was a long pause before he finally said, “Fine, I’ll leave you alone for now. Just... think about what I said. Please.”

As I hung up, I felt a mix of sadness and liberation wash over me.

Days blended into each other like the unending fog that wrapped our territory in a suffocating embrace. Lucian had been absent from our den for what felt like an eternity, and I didn’t bother to ask where he had gone.

On the third day, my phone buzzed to life with a message from him, casually informing me he was on a “mission for the pack” and sharing his location deep in the woods near the border.

[Stay safe,] I typed back, a dry laugh escaping my lips at the hollow sentiment.

Moments later, a notification lit up from the pack’s message board. Ivy had posted, [First break in forever. Never thought I’d miss honeyed berries. Someone insisted on picking them for me.]

Her post was accompanied by a photo showing Lucian’s hand, our binding ring still snugly in place on his finger. The location tagged in her post matched the one Lucian had sent me.

Suddenly, the ring on my own finger felt more like a shackle than a symbol of our bond, so I pulled it off and tossed it into a drawer, trying to silence the ache in my chest. Work became my escape, an ever-present refuge that kept me too busy to dwell on the gnawing emptiness left in Lucian’s absence. The question of when he would return faded into the background, buried beneath the weight of responsibilities.

Then, unexpectedly, he showed up one evening, leaning against his truck outside the clinic. His eyes held a hint of something—was it regret?

“Why are you here?” I asked, struggling to mask my surprise. The day had already drained me.

“Did you forget today is our mating ceremony anniversary?” he said, opening the passenger door for me as if it was a casual request.

“Oh,” I muttered, sliding into the seat, “sorry. I’ve been swamped. It slipped my mind.”

His frown deepened, disappointment flickering across his face as though my lack of enthusiasm had cut him. “Rowan, you used to care about these occasions. How could you forget?”

In the past, I had never let these days go unnoticed. Whether it was the anniversary of our bond or his birthday, I had orchestrated special celebrations—moonlit dinners, flowers adorning our den, and heartfelt gestures. Yet, each time, my efforts were brushed aside, dismissed as excessive or unimportant.

I recalled the time I arranged a surprise gathering in the heart of the forest, filled with laughter and joy. Lucian had turned to me, his expression flat, and said, “Rowan, you’re making a scene. It’s embarrassing in front of the pack.”

I had thought he’d appreciate the effort. Instead, he’d led me away, leaving me feeling like a fool, humiliated and unvalued. So now, I believed there was truly nothing left to celebrate.

“Let’s just have dinner,” he suggested, motioning for me to follow him toward a secluded cabin by the river that he’d reserved just for us.

The silence that enveloped us was oppressive, punctuated only by the soft murmur of the river flowing outside. I could feel his glances darting towards me, searching for any hint of the affection I used to offer so freely.

“Rowan, what’s wrong? Are you upset with me?” he finally blurted, his voice edged with concern.

“No,” I replied, shaking my head firmly.

“No?” he echoed, incredulity bleeding into frustration. “Then what’s with the coldness? I made an effort! I brought you to this beautiful place. Can’t you at least pretend to be happy?”

“I’m not angry, Lucian,” I insisted.

“Fine!” He let out a heavy sigh, pressing his palm to his forehead in frustration. “I swear, I won’t contact Ivy again. I’ll stop helping her, alright?”

I studied his face, looking for sincerity. Did he really believe that one empty promise could erase the months of hurt and deception?

“Are you satisfied now?” he pressed, his tone sharp, almost accusatory.

I remained silent, choosing instead to gaze out at the river, lost in thought. We drove to a nearby lodge he had arranged, complete with a small table set for two. He had even placed flowers on the table, as if hoping to rekindle a connection that had long since faded. But just as I was about to unwrap the small gift he had brought, his phone rang, cutting through the fragile atmosphere.

“Fever? Do you have any medicine on hand?” he asked urgently into the receiver. “I can’t take you to the healer’s hut tonight, I’m—what? That high? Alright, I’ll be right there.”

When he hung up, Lucian turned to me, guilt flickering in his eyes. “Rowan, it’s Ivy. Jesse’s running a high fever. I need to go—”

I swallowed my anger, forcing myself to keep my tone steady. “It’s fine,” I said, though each word felt like sandpaper against my throat. “Go ahead, Lucian. The pup needs you more than I do.”

He hesitated, as if waiting for me to change my mind, but I maintained my blank expression, watching him leave in a hurry, the door clicking shut behind him.

Alone in the lodge, I stared at the untouched meal laid out before me. Rain began to patter against the window, a muted echo of the tears I refused to shed. I sighed heavily, then quietly finished my meal before slipping out of the lodge.

I flagged down a truck to take me back to the pack’s territory. Without an umbrella, I braved the rain, each drop penetrating my clothes and chilling me to the bone.

Once I arrived home, I took a hot shower, hoping to wash away the remnants of the day’s disappointment. Afterward, I checked my messages and saw a new post from Ivy. She had shared a picture of Lucian holding Jesse, their cabin glowing with warmth around them.

I stared at the screen, my heart heavy with a mix of anger and sadness. The image felt like a dagger, twisting painfully within me. They looked so happy, so at ease, and I was left feeling like a ghost in my own life, haunting the corners of what used to be a shared existence.

Tears threatened to spill as I turned away from the screen, but I refused to let them fall. I had spent too long being second to Ivy, living in the shadows of Lucian’s choices.