I began packing at dawn, sorting through years of memories and belongings with a newfound clarity.

Though Lorenz and I had separate dens, we shared a closet—one I had once meticulously stocked with his tunics, his belts, his every possession. It had been my daily ritual, preparing his things, a small way to maintain peace in a marriage that had always been distant. But now, it was time to release it all.

As I folded my own clothes, my gaze fell on the gifts I had given him over the years—birthdays, anniversaries, full moons, celebrations of every kind. Each lay untouched, still wrapped or tucked away as though meaningless.

My chest tightened. I had poured thought and care into each present, hoping they might remind him that I had once tried to be a devoted mate. But instead, they would go to someone who might truly value them. I bundled them for donation, a small act of reclaiming my power.

Alongside those, I left behind every token Lorenz had ever given me—jewelry, trinkets, garments meant to silence me or keep me in place. I only packed what I had earned with my own labor: the modest yet steady earnings from selling my paintings.

When the donation box was ready, I loaded it into the car and set off for the orphan den where I had grown up. On the way, I stopped at a small market and grabbed some treats for the children—no matter how far I went, they would always be a piece of my heart.

Upon arriving, the woman who had raised me, my mother in all but blood, greeted me with open arms. We settled into a quiet corner, speaking like mother and daughter.

After a pause, I exhaled and shared my plans.

“I’m going to Italy to continue my studies,” I said, a small, determined smile on my lips. Her eyes lit up, and she grasped my hands warmly.

“Oh, Toni! I knew you were destined for greatness,” she said. “You deserve every bit of happiness coming your way.”

Her words soothed the knot in my chest, giving me the courage to continue. “I’m also… I’m divorcing Lorenz.”

Her expression fell, concern flashing across her features. She had known me long enough to see the kindness in my heart and perhaps hoped my marriage might provide me the family I had never truly had.

As I explained the reasons, her face softened. “Sometimes letting go is the bravest act,” she murmured, patting my hands. “You have to walk your own path, Toni.”

I nodded, embracing her tightly. “Thank you.”

Evening came, and I drove home at a leisurely pace along the quiet roads. There was no urgency to return, no pressure to be on time for dinner, no fear of Lorenz’s displeasure. In the past, I would have pushed the car past every limit, ensuring I arrived precisely when he demanded, for the ritual of shared meals—breakfast and dinner—was one of the few rules he enforced.

I never understood why he clung to those routines when there was no love, no connection. Perhaps it was for show, proof to the pack and staff that we were a “proper couple,” though we lived apart, slept apart, existed apart.

But when I entered the manor, I was met with a sight that made my chest tighten.

Gritte, Lorenz’s younger sister, lounged on the couch with Emily, shopping bags from high-end boutiques piled around them.

“Oh, you’re finally back, Toni,” Gritte sneered, her tone dripping with entitlement. “Why so late? We’re hungry. The chef didn’t come. Go cook for us.”

Her words stung, a reminder of all the thankless service I had rendered for them. Emily avoided my eyes, fussing over a new handbag as though I weren’t even there.

Lorenz appeared from the hallway, as if materializing from the shadows. “No need to worry about cooking tonight. We’ll eat out,” he announced, his voice softening instantly when he glanced at Emily. “What do you feel like, Lily?”

Her face brightened. “Steak! Can we go to our favorite place? The one from college?”

Without hesitation, he grabbed the keys. Watching them together, so at ease, I slipped toward the door, hoping to avoid witnessing this little reunion.

Lorenz’s voice cut through the space, sharp and commanding. “Come with us. You must be hungry, too.”

I hesitated, keeping my tone steady. “No, thanks. I’m not.”

“That wasn’t a question, Toni,” he said, his voice darker now, laced with irritation.

I exhaled, the weight of his presence pressing down, and relented. “Fine,” I murmured.

In the car, Lorenz and Emily sat up front, laughing, sharing memories, while I was pushed to the back with Gritte. She kept as much distance as possible, treating me like a stranger.

The city blurred past the window as they reminisced, their comfort and connection stabbing at my chest.

When we arrived at the restaurant, my stomach twisted at bitter recognition. The same steakhouse Lorenz had taken me to countless times, a place I once thought was ours—it had always belonged to him and Emily.

Everything I had believed about us had been an illusion.

As we entered the restaurant, the faint tang of smoke and sizzling meat hit my nose. A waiter recognized us immediately, bowing slightly. “Ah, Mr. and Mrs. Reyes! It’s been a while since we last saw you.”

I noticed Emily stiffen beside Lorenz, and instinctively she brushed against him, linking her arm with his in a subtle, possessive claim. His scent—musky, warm, familiar—shifted under her touch, and I realized how clearly she was marking him. The primal warning flared in my chest, a low, instinctive growl I couldn’t control.

The waiter hesitated, sensing tension, but Lorenz didn’t even glance at me. “Table for four,” he said casually, his voice smooth, alpha-calm.

“Right this way,” the waiter murmured, leading us to a table near the open grill, its flames licking the air. I knew this table well—once, it had been ours, a place where Lorenz had allowed me to share in his ritual of tasting and cooking the steak tableside. Back then, I had never realized it had originally been a tradition he had shared with Emily.

As the coals flared, Gritte stepped forward, tongs in hand, tail flicking in her subtle display of dominance. “I’m actually good at this,” she said, voice dripping confidence. “I only cook if I must, but let me show you.” She flipped the steaks expertly, the sizzle sharp in the air.

Everything seemed under control—until a flare of oil burst onto the coals. Emily startled, yipping in panic, and knocked the grill slightly. Embers leapt like fire spirits, scattering across the table.

Gritte dodged instinctively, fur bristling, but I wasn’t fast enough. Hot sparks landed on my arm and on Emily, both of us closest to the flames.

Before I could react further, Lorenz lunged with the speed of a wolf, scooping Emily into his arms. His growl was low, tense, primal. “Call an ambulance! She’s burned—this is serious!”

Pain lanced along my arm, but his amber gaze didn’t even flick toward me. In that moment, to him, only Emily existed—his mate, his chosen. The exclusion cut me sharper than the embers.

I sat frozen, instinctively brushing at the stinging burns, feeling the wolfish tension in my muscles—the awareness of being sidelined, invisible to the alpha. The waiter, rushing to help, noticed my discomfort. “Mrs. Reyes, are you okay? Do you need help?”

I opened my mouth, but Lorenz’s voice rang, low and commanding, brushing Emily’s hair back as if claiming her entirely. “Make sure she’s taken care of immediately.”

The waiter froze, unsure how to respond. I forced a small, bitter smile. “I’m fine. Please—help her first.”

Lorenz shot me a sharp, dismissive glance. “Toni, if you’re hurt, deal with it. Just don’t make a scene,” he said, his tone cold, predatory.

I pressed my lips together, nodding. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

He turned back to Emily, guiding her toward the waiting ambulance, his every movement protective, instinctive. Gritte huffed nearby, tail flicking in irritation. “Great. Now our night’s ruined,” she muttered, ignoring me entirely.

Once they disappeared into the night, I allowed myself to feel the sting of the burns. The waiter returned with a cold compress, offering it gently. “Here, ma’am. This should help.”

“Thank you,” I whispered, pressing the cloth to my skin. In that moment, a vow formed in my chest, as cold and sharp as the iron in my veins: I will never be ignored again.

I took a taxi to the hospital, each bump on the road reminding me of the sparks that had burned me. The ER doctor cleaned my arm carefully. “You’re lucky. It’s superficial. A few days, and it’ll heal.”

“Thanks,” I said, but overheard nurses whispering nearby. “Did you hear? Mr. Reyes booked an entire floor for Emily, brought in specialists.”

A bitter smile crept onto my face. Never once had he done anything like that for me, even when I had been his mate in all but name.

I handed over my personal card after he had blocked my access, the money from my own hard work. Years of reliance on his alpha provisioning had left me vulnerable—but now, I realized how strong I could be on my own.

Bandaged and resolute, I returned to the manor, determined to avoid Lorenz and Emily, who would spend the night at the hospital. Staff glanced at my arm with concern, but I waved them off. “It’s minor. Don’t worry, and I apologize for the late hour.”

The next morning, a soft chime announced the acceptance email from the Italian Arts Academy. My heart raced with excitement and hunger for independence. I grabbed my art supplies, declining the driver’s offer for a ride. Freedom was intoxicating.

Hours passed in the RISD Museum, surrounded by art that had once ignited my soul. Brush in hand, I felt the weight of Lorenz’s alpha presence lift from my shoulders. For the first time, I created freely, my wolf instincts attuned only to the canvas before me.

Night fell unnoticed until the phone rang. Lorenz.

I answered, tone clipped and sharp. “What is it?”

“Where are you?” His voice was low, dangerous, controlled—alpha frustration radiating. “I expected you home.”

“Where I am is none of your concern, Mr. Reyes,” I said, voice steady, fierce with newly claimed independence.

“How long will this tantrum last, Toni? Is this about the card?” His growl was nearly audible through the line. “Stop playing with the divorce papers. You can’t survive without me.”

I drew a slow breath, muscles coiled in quiet power. “I can,” I said, then hung up. I blocked his number without hesitation.

Moments later, a message appeared: [Lorenz: Come back now, or I will drag you home.]

I typed back: [Toni: Never.]

With a final swipe, I severed him from my life. At last, I was free—my own pack, my own territory, my own life.