I suddenly remembered the first time I met Jazmine Gomez—it was during what should have been my mate ceremony with Matheo Vasquez. Today marked what should have been our third year as mates, but meeting Jazmine seemed to mean more to Matheo than our bond ever did.

I glanced down at the faint scar on my neck where Matheo had attempted to mark me. The mark had never fully formed, a constant reminder of his hesitation. Without hesitation, I scheduled an appointment with the pack healer to have the remnants of it removed.

Three days later, Matheo finally returned to the pack house. His lips were slightly swollen, carrying the sour scent of Jazmine’s favorite dish—a pungent noodle soup. Previously, Matheo would rather go hungry than eat anything cheap or smelly—he was even allergic to crab. But with Jazmine, he’d make exceptions. She clearly held a special place in his heart.

Noticing my cold demeanor, Matheo attempted to explain, “I’ve been helping Jazmine with her training these past few days. I didn’t have time to get you a gift. Pick something you like, and I’ll take care of it.”

He then took off his shirt, revealing a fresh, red heart-shaped mark on his side. I stared at it, unfazed. He seemed guilty at first, then quickly snapped, “It’s just a fun thing Jazmine and I did. Are you really still upset about something so trivial? You’re too petty!”

I sighed deeply and said, “Matheo, we need to talk.”

I wanted to discuss my decision to leave the Silver Moon Pack, but a mind link from Jazmine interrupted us. Her voice was tearful and frail in my head. “Beta Matheo, the mark on my side is sore. Could you please come and apply some ointment for me?”

Matheo’s face softened with concern. Without a glance at me, he turned to leave. As he brushed past, his leg bumped my ankle, still tender from the healer’s work. I winced, but he showed no sign of noticing.

He had insisted on marking me when I first joined the pack as a healer, worried my presence might attract unwanted attention from other wolves. It was his claim—a warning for others to steer clear. He had promised, “You are my one and only mate,” and I had believed him.

But after Jazmine arrived, Matheo not only endured the pain to get matching marks with her but also forgot all the promises he made to me. Clutching my healing ankle, I felt relief at having the remnants of his mark removed.

I went to the pack hall to discuss leaving the Silver Moon Pack. My mentor, Beta Quinn Howell, frowned. “Cecilia, 80% of the pack’s healing resources come from your skills. Are you really sure about leaving?” He pushed a scroll toward me. “This is the pack’s latest alliance proposal. They’re counting on you to lead…”

Everyone knew my work was vital to the pack, and they all tried to persuade me to stay. But I was resolute and shook my head firmly.

Quinn sighed, “Does Matheo know you’re planning to leave?”

“He’s too focused on promoting Jazmine to care whether I stay,” I replied, continuing to fill out the paperwork as silence enveloped the room.

Jazmine’s arrogant voice interrupted the silence, “Matheo, it’s your fault for being so rough last night. My back aches and my legs are sore!” She waltzed over with a cup of coffee, deliberately flaunting her mark to taunt me. “Cecilia, I need to train at the beach today. Matheo says the sea breeze is strong and insists I wear a long-sleeved shirt and pants. But how can I show off my strength as a Delta warrior?”

Her eyes were full of provocation.

I offered no reply.

Matheo followed behind, not sparing me a glance. He gently soothed Jazmine, “The wind at the beach is strong. You’ll catch a cold dressed like that. Plus, with your aches and pains, we should just go home and rest. No need to push yourself.”

“Just put on the jacket,” he said, helping her into it and buttoning it up for her, one button at a time.

Quinn looked at me sympathetically.

Matheo seemed to have forgotten how, in the dead of winter, I braved freezing waters to heal a wounded pack member while enduring my own pain. That night, I developed a high fever, burning for three days straight. Back then, Matheo was caring and attentive, always looking out for me.

But somewhere along the line, he changed. Whenever I wasn’t feeling well, he became impatient and scolded me, “You can’t be this fragile and be a healer. You’re vital to the pack; stop being dramatic and deal with it.”

By chance, Matheo noticed the form I was filling out: “Leaving the pack?...”