On the third day I gave him the cold shoulder, Ryker—my Alpha and mate-to-be—approved a solo research trip to the Moonlight Forest for himself and his Beta lover, Liana.

He thought I'd fly into a rage, just like always. I didn't.

A month later, he returned and saw it—I had changed.

He sided with Liana, handed her my research, and expected me to fly into a rage. I didn't. I just helped her organize the files.

He destroyed my lab, all to help her solidify her position in the pack.

I didn't fight back. I took the blame without a single word.

Liana gloated. "See? I told you. You can't fight Oliva head-on. Just use your Alpha authority and give her the cold shoulder. She'll fold. She's terrified of losing the mate bond, so she'll do whatever you say."

Ryker bought it hook, line, and sinker, even praising her for being so clever.

Then he pulled me aside. He increased my pack allowance, restored some of my privileges, and even brought up a grand bonding ceremony—the first time he’d ever mentioned it.

But he’d missed one crucial detail: while he was off enjoying his little getaway, he had already stamped my application to sever our mate bond, his approval given without a second thought.

And just like that, I was free of him.

Clean. Final.

————————

1

"Oliva, the Alpha needs this report urgently. Sorry to bother you, but you'll have to finish the data analysis before midnight."

Liana Farrow, Ryker’s Beta, slapped a thick stack of files onto my desk, her tone deceptively sweet.

I took them. "Got it."

She wasn't finished. Still smiling, she added, "The Alpha and I have a meeting later. Just leave the documents in his study. Oh—and remember to tidy up his study before you leave."

Then she sashayed away, her high heels clicking against the floorboards in a rhythm that matched her triumphant mood.

The office around me fell silent. My packmates shot me those awkward glances—half pity, half helplessness.

Everyone knew that Ryker Valerius, the Alpha of the Crimson Peak pack, was my fated mate. Everyone also knew about his blatant favoritism, and that Liana was his clear favorite.

He had elevated her from a lesser vassal family to be his right hand, then gifted her the pack-wide health monitoring project I had spent two grueling months developing.

When I fought back, he called a vote with the Council of Elders, assuming everyone would side with him.

He was wrong. The entire council voted for me. Liana got one vote. His.

He was furious. He accused me of bewitching them. It wasn't just the project—he stripped me of my title as head of the pack's research institute in front of everyone and cut resources to the elders who had supported me.

No one dared to speak up for me again.

Later, he apologized. He said he didn’t want it to look like favoritism. That Liana might feel left out.

I used to believe that bullshit. Now? It was a farce.

Liana wasn't even as competent as the nannies who cared for the pack's pups.

Didn’t want to look like he was playing favorites? Please. His favoritism was so blatant a blind wolf could see it.

I heard footsteps from upstairs and glanced up. It was Ryker.

He appeared at the top of the stairs, his gray wolf eyes sweeping over me without a flicker of recognition, as if I were a piece of furniture. He had changed into a tailored casual suit, its open collar revealing the sharp line of his collarbones. Even from a distance, the cloyingly sweet scent of Liana's evening primrose perfume reached me.

He never used to wear anything scented. That perfume was Liana's signature.

Yeah, he knew exactly what he was doing.

He'd been pulling these petty stunts for years.

It started when I discovered the goodnight messages they were sending each other through the mind-link. I couldn't stay silent—I confronted him.

Ryker said I was overreacting. Then, as if to prove a point, he used it as an excuse to promote Liana to his closest Beta, as if it were his right.

The angrier I got, the more he pushed—taking her to pack social events, carving her roast at moonlight feasts, even dabbing grease from the corner of her mouth with his own handkerchief.

When we argued, he would give me the cold shoulder. After I’d apologized, he would summon his confidants to lecture me, insisting I was consumed by jealousy.

For a while, I really did blame myself. I thought maybe I wasn't being understanding enough. I thought maybe that was why our bond had frayed.

But on the third day of one of his silent treatments—when I was burning up with a wolf fever, barely able to sit up, and he was still packing his bags to go with Liana on a rare "Blood Moon" hunt—I finally gave up.

It was in that moment I finally understood: he wasn't trying to be decent. He was just using my supposed oversensitivity as an excuse to do whatever he wanted.

Even if I hadn't found their late-night mind-links, he would have found another excuse to be with her.

After their last "research" trip, it was the same old routine—eating together, drinking, sparring on the training grounds. But something between them had shifted. I could feel it.

None of that mattered anymore.

Our five-year bond was over.

This farce had dragged on long enough.

I was the last one to leave the office that night, finishing the analysis on that patrol report. I glanced at my phone—Liana had been busy.

A high-end private club in the city. Dim lighting. Two glasses of red wine. Ryker, impeccably dressed, was leaning in to whisper something in Liana's ear while she laughed so hard she nearly fell into his arms. The next photo showed them kissing, lost in their own world.

The caption read: "An Alpha's kiss must taste sweeter."

The comment section was flooded with heart emojis and fawning from pack members. A few uninformed members from vassal families even asked when the bonding ceremony was. Ryker's only reply was three dots. Liana followed up with a winking emoji.

No clarification. Never any clarification.

But this time, I didn't explode. There were no furious calls, no lectures from him about my "overreaction."

I just sent him a quick message: "Report analysis is done." I left the files in his study, stoked the fire in the fireplace as he'd requested, and then drove home.

The moment I walked in the door, my phone rang. Ryker's number.

I answered, but it wasn't him.

"Oliva, it's Liana. Thanks for your help on the project. I'll treat you to dinner sometime." Her voice was sickly sweet.

Before I could reply, Ryker cut in. "You don't need to thank her. It's her duty as a member of this pack."

Liana cooed, "Alpha, she's your mate-to-be. Can't you be a little nicer to her?"

They sounded like a couple.

A soft laugh escaped me.

The same Ryker who used to fly into a rage if I so much as glanced at his phone was now letting Liana use it like it was her own.

Honestly? I felt strangely calm.

Things that once would have shattered my world now seemed utterly insignificant.

They bantered for a moment longer before Ryker finally remembered I was still on the line. "I'll be back soon. Don't wait up—get some rest."

Then he hung up.

His "soon" usually meant four or five hours. I used to pace anxiously, sick with worry.

This time, I couldn't be bothered.

I walked into the study and gazed at the plane ticket to Sterling Harbor on the desk.

Not long ago, while Ryker and Liana were at the Werewolf Summit, I had quietly submitted my application to sever our bond. Ryker, too preoccupied, had stamped it with his Alpha's seal without a second glance.

Three more days.

Once the handover was complete, I would be gone from this pack for good.

I paused, then called Professor Alistair Finch, my former research advisor who now worked at a top werewolf genetics research institute in Sterling Harbor.

Right after graduation, I had landed a top-tier position there. But Ryker said he needed my help to grow his pack, and like a fool, I dropped everything and ran back to this valley. Professor Finch had warned me against it. I didn't listen.

Looking back now... what an idiot I'd been.

Feelings change. A career will never betray you.

When the call connected, I explained my situation, bracing for a lecture. Instead, Professor Finch just sighed.

"I'd heard rumors... and was debating whether I should call you. But this time... are you certain?"

"I'm sure. The paperwork for my departure has already been processed."

"Leave the pack? What do you mean, leave the pack?"

The voice didn't come from the phone.

I turned.

Ryker was standing in the doorway.

The call ended abruptly.

I locked my phone without a word.

Before I could think of what to say, his phone buzzed. Liana again. She sent a pouting selfie, complaining about how noisy the pups in the training yard were.

"So cute," Ryker replied in a voice message, his tone filled with a tenderness I hadn't heard in ages.

She immediately shot back: "Are the pups cute, or am I cute?"

Another selfie followed, this one a close-up of her ample chest nearly bursting from her tight training uniform.

Ryker laughed. "The pups are cute, but you're cuter."

Then, as if suddenly remembering I was there, his face hardened. He turned to me, his expression frigid.

"Didn't I tell you to get some rest? Why are you still up?"

The shift in his tone was jarring. Nothing like the softness he'd used with her.

And he'd already forgotten my words about leaving the pack.

I smiled faintly. "Just wrapping up a few things."

His brow furrowed. "This late? What's left to do? Oliva, you need to manage your time better. You're always leaving pack business until the last minute."

I didn't bother mentioning it was Liana's fault for piling on last-minute tasks. No argument. No excuses. I just remained silent.

He didn't press the issue and walked into the bedroom.

A minute later, I heard him laugh. A genuine, deep laugh.

I hadn't heard him laugh like that in ages. He only ever sounded so free when he was with Liana.

I ignored it and sat down at my desk, pulling out a few genetics research journals I hadn't finished.

The field of werewolf genetics had evolved in the past five years. Even with Professor Finch's support, I'd have to prove my skills hadn't rusted.

Luckily, my foundation was solid. I could catch up quickly.

"Are you reading research journals?"

I hadn't even heard him come back in.

He picked one up, flipped through a few pages, then tossed it back with a sneer. "What are you reading this for? Do you really think you can alter the genetics of a common wolf?"

I stacked the papers neatly. "Just browsing."

I asked, "Did you need something?"

Before, I would have been thrilled if Ryker had sought me out just to talk. Not this time. He froze, as if he hadn't expected such a direct question.

His expression soured, and a flash of awkwardness crossed his face. "Well, yes, actually. Liana just closed a huge project, so I'm thinking of officially making her my Chief Beta. It would be good for pack morale. What do you think?"

He stared straight at me.

He said he wanted my opinion, but we both knew that was a lie.

I just nodded. "I have no objections."

He added, "But to keep things balanced, and since you haven't completed any projects recently, I'm thinking of temporarily suspending your access to the pack's core archives."

"Once things settle down, I'll restore your privileges. Don't worry—this is for the future of the pack. You're my mate. You'll support me, right?"

I had to smother a laugh, but a small smile escaped.

He still had no idea.

He could read Liana like an open book, discerning her mood from a single glance, remembering every little preference. But his own mate could hand him a document to sever their bond, which he personally stamped with his seal, and he remained completely oblivious.

This was the price of being with someone who didn’t care, a truth spelled out in his every careless word.

Seeing my silence, Ryker assumed I was about to erupt into my usual rage. His face darkened. "Even if you disagree, it won't change anything. The appointment is already effective. Your lab is now Liana's."