The night of the crash had left scars deeper than I realized—scars that time had refused to heal. Erwin’s brother had been with him that evening when it all began. The pack had just settled into the quiet of the night when the voice note arrived.

“Help,” it said, trembling with urgency. “Mina’s in danger.”

The sound of my voice—only it wasn’t me—had sent Erwin and his brother into a frenzy. They rushed out, their wolf instincts fully engaged, hurtling through the winding forest roads to reach her.

But the roads were treacherous, and tragedy waited for them in the dark. Their car veered off the edge of the ravine, tumbling into a crumpled heap of metal and shattered dreams.

When Erwin woke up in the pack’s infirmary, battered but alive, his first words were for her.

“Is Mina okay?”

I had been there, holding his hand, tears streaking down my face. Relief coursed through me that he had survived, though his brother hadn’t been so lucky. My heart ached at the thought of losing Erwin too.

But his second sentence pierced me like a dagger.

“Elena,” he rasped, his voice hoarse but steady, “your reckless games killed my brother. Was it worth it? Are you happy now?”

His words were ice, freezing me in place.

“I didn’t send that message,” I had said then, and I had repeated it countless times since. My protests, my explanations, all fell on deaf ears.

To Erwin, the lie Mina told was the only truth he could see. She was innocent in his eyes—the grieving widow, incapable of such malice. But I knew the truth. I had handed her my phone that day, thinking nothing of it. She had smiled at me, borrowing it under the guise of texting her mate.

That smile had been a knife hidden in plain sight.

The message she crafted, that voice note, had been her weapon. And Erwin had been her pawn, a wolf so blinded by duty and grief that he couldn’t see the web she’d spun.

The memory still haunted me, but tonight, Erwin’s actions brought it all rushing back.

The door creaked open, and there he was, standing in the dim light of our shared room. The scent of alcohol clung to him, sharp and sour. His usually sharp golden eyes were hazy, but something dark lingered in them.

“Elena,” he said, his voice unusually soft, “you’re awake.”

I didn’t respond. The bandages around my hand from earlier were still fresh, the sting of the cut a sharp reminder of the events that had unfolded.

He crossed the room and knelt before me, taking my uninjured hand in his. His warmth seeped into my skin, but it felt foreign now.

“I need to ask you something,” he said quietly, his fingers brushing over my knuckles.

I remained silent, unsure if I could bear what he was about to say.

“Mina is struggling,” he murmured, as if the words physically pained him. “She’s hurting. She’s alone. And I need you to be better. To rise above this.”

“Rise above what, Erwin?” I snapped, my voice sharper than I intended. “Rise above her lies? Above the way she manipulates you? Or the way she uses her grief to keep you tied to her?”

His jaw tightened, his golden eyes narrowing. “You don’t understand, Elena. She’s not manipulating anyone. She’s lost her mate—my brother. And I promised him I’d take care of her.”

I laughed bitterly, the sound hollow and cold. “Taking care of her doesn’t mean abandoning me every time she calls. It doesn’t mean ignoring me when I’m bleeding, Erwin. What do I have to do to make you see that she’s tearing us apart?”

He stood then, his full height towering over me. His presence was commanding, but I refused to shrink beneath it.

“I have responsibilities,” he said firmly, his voice like a growl. “The pack is watching, Elena. They need to see that I honor my promises. My brother’s death…” His voice cracked, and he paused to collect himself. “It will not be in vain.”

“Your brother’s death wasn’t my fault,” I said, my voice trembling. “It wasn’t. And deep down, you know it wasn’t. You’re just too stubborn to admit it.”

His eyes flashed with anger. “You don’t get it. You’ve never gotten it. I’m doing what I have to do.”

“No, Erwin,” I said, rising to my feet to meet his gaze. “You’re doing what she wants you to do. You’re letting her control you, and you’re using your brother’s memory as an excuse. If you can’t see that, then maybe you never truly saw me at all.”

He opened his mouth to respond, but before he could, the pack link buzzed with a message.

“Erwin,” Mina’s voice filled our minds, laced with fake urgency, “Kitty’s sick again. She’s shaking, and I don’t know what to do.”

His expression softened instantly, and without a word, he turned and grabbed his jacket.

“Don’t,” I said, my voice breaking. “Don’t walk out that door. Not this time.”

He paused, his back to me, but he didn’t turn around.

“I have to,” he said simply, and then he was gone.

The silence he left behind was deafening.

I sat on the edge of the bed, the pain in my hand now a dull throb compared to the ache in my chest. The phone buzzed on the nightstand, and I picked it up reluctantly.

A photo from Mina.

Erwin was in her cabin, holding her cat, Kitty, his back turned to her. The warm glow of the room made the scene look almost peaceful, almost intimate. His broad shoulders were framed by the loose vest he had thrown on, and the shorts hung low on his hips.

Then came the message that made me feel sick to my stomach:

[Elena, do you see now? He’s mine. He’ll always be mine. No matter what, one word from me will always bring him to my side. It’s a shame you don’t know what it feels like to hold a man like that. Maybe I’ll show you someday.]

The bile rose in my throat, and I stumbled to the trash can, retching violently.

When the nausea passed, I gripped the phone tightly, my vision blurred by tears of anger and humiliation. Without thinking, I opened the pack link and shouted, my voice trembling with rage.

“You bitch!”

Mina’s laugh echoed in my mind, mocking and triumphant.

I sank to the floor, clutching my knees to my chest. Erwin had made his choice, and it wasn’t me.

But I wouldn’t let her win. Not completely.

Tomorrow was the mating ceremony, the day I had once dreamed of. Now, it felt like a cruel joke.

Still, I would stand before the pack, head held high, and let them see me for who I truly was. A she-wolf stronger than the lies, the betrayal, and the mate who had turned his back on her.

Mina wanted to break me. But I wasn’t broken yet.

The metallic scent of my blood lingered in the air as I finished bandaging my hand, the wound a sharp reminder of how far things had spiraled. Erwin’s betrayal was one thing, but the endless provocations from Mina? That was another.

For three years, she’d pushed me, needled me, and tested every boundary I had. And Erwin? He knew. He always knew.

But every time, he dismissed it with the same excuses. “Mina’s been through so much,” he’d say, his golden eyes flashing with the hint of his wolf beneath. “You have to understand.”

Understand. Tolerate. Forgive. Those words had become a mantra in our relationship.

And I’d complied. Every. Single. Time.

But wolves are creatures of instinct, and mine had been howling louder with every insult, every slight. My patience wasn’t just fraying—it was snapping.

This time, there would be no forgiveness.

I opened my laptop and stared at the email that had been haunting me for weeks. An offer to join a pack in Texas as their history teacher. It was an opportunity for freedom—a fresh start far from the suffocating presence of Erwin and Mina.

I clicked "Reply" and typed two words: I’m in.

In ten days, I’d be gone.

But for now, I just needed rest. My wolf was restless, pacing beneath my skin, but exhaustion pulled me under.

I’d barely drifted into sleep when the door slammed open. Light flooded the room, and my senses snapped to attention.

“What the hell is this, Elena?” Erwin growled, his voice low and feral.

I sat up, my wolf bristling at his tone. “What are you talking about?”

He shoved his phone in my face, the screen glowing with a voice note I’d sent earlier: “You bitch.”

“You called Mina a bitch?” His voice trembled with restrained fury, the edge of a snarl lurking beneath his words. “Have you lost your mind?”

Behind him, Mina lingered in the shadows, cradling her mangy cat. Her eyes were rimmed with tears, and she looked like a broken, fragile thing—an act I no longer fell for.

“Erwin, don’t,” she whimpered. “I sent her that picture because I thought it would ease her worries. I didn’t mean to upset her.”

Her soft, manipulative tone was like nails on a chalkboard.

“Ease my worries?” I barked out a bitter laugh, my wolf’s growl slipping into my voice. “You sent that photo to gloat. Don’t act innocent now, Mina.”

“Enough!” Erwin’s voice cut through the air, sharp and commanding. His golden eyes glowed faintly as his wolf stirred beneath the surface. “She’s grieving, Elena. She’s lost her mate. And all you can do is attack her? What’s wrong with you?”

“She’s manipulating you!” I snapped, my wolf pacing furiously beneath my skin. “She’s been doing it for years, and you’re too blind to see it!”

Mina’s lower lip trembled as she cradled the cat tighter. “I’ll leave,” she said softly. “I’ll stay away from both of you. I never wanted to cause this much pain.”

“You’re not going anywhere,” Erwin said, stepping toward her and wrapping his arm protectively around her shoulders. “You’ve done nothing wrong. Don’t let her make you feel otherwise.”

The sight of him comforting her ignited something primal in me. My wolf clawed at the edges of my mind, demanding release, demanding retribution.

“How dare you,” I said, my voice trembling with fury. “How dare you stand there and comfort her while you let her tear me apart?”

Erwin turned to me, his gaze icy. “You’ve changed, Elena. You used to be understanding, patient. Now? Now you’re just bitter and cruel.”

Tears burned at the edges of my vision, but I refused to let them fall. “I haven’t changed, Erwin. I’m just done pretending. Done pretending that you don’t treat her like your true mate.”

“That’s ridiculous,” he snapped. “She’s my family. Nothing more. I’ve told you this over and over, but you refuse to believe me. You refuse to let go of your jealousy.”

“Jealousy?” I laughed, a sharp, bitter sound. “This isn’t jealousy. This is me finally seeing you for what you are—a coward who hides behind promises and excuses.”

His jaw tightened, and his eyes flickered dangerously. “I’m doing this for you, Elena. To help you atone for what you did to my brother. Everything I’ve done, everything I’ve sacrificed, has been for you.”

“Sacrificed?” I spat the word like venom. “You’ve sacrificed me. You’ve sacrificed our bond. All for her.”

Erwin stepped closer, his wolf pressing against his skin. “Watch your tone,” he growled, his voice low and dangerous. “You don’t get to twist this. You don’t get to play the victim.”

My wolf snarled, rising to the surface. “I’m not playing anything, Erwin. I’ve given you everything, and you’ve thrown it away for her.”

I grabbed my phone, ready to show him the messages Mina had sent—proof of her deceit. But when I opened the conversation, the messages were gone. Withdrawn.

All that remained was the voice note: “You bitch.”

Mina let out a soft, pitiful sob, and something inside me snapped.

I raised my hand, the slap already forming before I could stop myself.

But Erwin was faster. He caught my wrist mid-swing, his grip firm and unyielding.

“Enough,” he said, his voice a low rumble that sent a shiver down my spine. His wolf hovered just beneath the surface, ready to break free.

For a moment, we stood there, locked in a battle of wills.

And then I realized the truth.

This wasn’t just about Mina.

This was about Erwin. About the bond we’d once shared and the shards of it that now lay scattered between us.

I wasn’t just fighting Mina anymore—I was fighting him. And it was a fight I couldn’t win.

My wolf whimpered softly, retreating into the recesses of my mind as the weight of the moment settled over me.

“Erwin,” I said, my voice barely a whisper. “If this is what love looks like to you, I want no part of it.”

I pulled my wrist free from his grip and stepped back, the ache in my chest nearly unbearable.

For years, I had fought to keep him, to hold onto the life we’d built.

But some battles weren’t meant to be won.

Without another word, I turned and walked away, the faint echo of my wolf’s howl following me into the night.

Erwin’s amber eyes flicked toward me, his wolf faintly shimmering behind them. For a brief moment, I thought he might acknowledge me, might remember the mate bond that bound us. Instead, his focus returned to Mina, and his voice softened like a calming breeze.

“Yes, I’ll be taking Kitty to the healer today,” he said, his words cutting me as deeply as claws.

The butler, who had been lingering by the door, froze. His weathered face turned pale, his lips pressing into a thin line as if to hold back words he dared not speak. He glanced at me with pity, the kind of look that said, You deserve better.

I despised that look. I didn’t need his sympathy. I lowered my gaze to my soup and forced myself to eat, though the warmth did nothing to thaw the growing chill in my chest.

The sound of shattering ceramic cut through the silence.

I looked up sharply, my wolf stirring at the sudden noise. My heart sank as I saw the remnants of the ceramic bowl I had made for Erwin scattered across the stone floor.

It wasn’t just a bowl. It was the first gift I’d ever given him, crafted with my own hands when I joined his pack. He’d once treated it like a treasure, placing it in the center of the table as a symbol of our bond.

And now, it was nothing but broken shards.

Mina gasped, her hand flying to her mouth as if she were horrified by her own actions. She stumbled back a step, her big doe eyes glistening with unshed tears.

“I... I didn’t mean to!” she whimpered, her voice trembling like a leaf caught in a storm.

Before I could react, Erwin was at her side, his towering frame shielding her from whatever danger he imagined I posed.

“It’s just a bowl,” he said, his tone calm and reassuring. “Don’t look so scared, little one. Who would dare blame you for something so trivial?”

His words, meant to comfort her, sliced through me like a blade. He turned toward me, his eyes sharp and accusing.

“Elena,” he said, his voice low and warning, “don’t make this a big deal.”

I hadn’t even spoken, but he had already decided I was the villain in this story.

Mina’s lip quivered as she dropped to her knees, reaching for the broken shards. “Elena, I’m so sorry,” she said, her voice breaking. “I know how much this bowl meant to you and Erwin. It was a symbol of your bond. I’m so clumsy.”

As she picked up a sharp piece, blood bloomed from her fingers, the bright red stark against the pale ceramic.

“Mina!” Erwin barked, crouching beside her in an instant. His wolf flared, his concern for her palpable. “What are you doing? You’re hurt.”

The maid hesitated at the edge of the room, her gaze flicking to me as if waiting for permission. I gave her a small nod, and she scurried off to fetch supplies.

Erwin’s full attention was on Mina. He gently dabbed at her wound, his hands steady and his movements tender.

“Silly girl,” he murmured, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “You should be more careful. You’re too delicate for this.”

Delicate. The word echoed in my mind. Wasn’t I delicate, too?

I looked down at my own hand, the bandage wrapped around it already stained red. My cut from the night before had reopened, but Erwin hadn’t noticed. He hadn’t even cared enough to ask why my hand was injured in the first place.

The shattered bowl lay forgotten at their feet, but to me, it was more than broken pottery. It was the perfect metaphor for us. For the bond we’d once shared.

A bitter laugh escaped my lips before I could stop it.

Mina flinched, her eyes darting toward me. She curled into Erwin’s arms like a frightened pup seeking protection.

“What’s so funny, Elena?” Erwin asked, his wolf flashing in his eyes.

I stood slowly, the ache in my chest more painful than the wound on my hand. “It’s funny how easily you believe her,” I said, my voice steady despite the turmoil inside me. “How quick you are to defend her, to care for her, while you ignore me.”

“Careful,” Erwin growled, his tone low and dangerous. “Mina is part of this pack, just like you. She’s been through enough without your bitterness.”

“Bitterness?” I repeated, my laugh hollow. “Do you even hear yourself, Erwin? You treat her like she’s your mate, not me. Do you even remember who I am?”

His jaw tightened, and his eyes darkened, his wolf rising to the surface. “You’re acting like a jealous pup, Elena. This behavior isn’t worthy of a Luna.”

The words hit harder than any physical blow.

Mina sniffled, her tears falling freely. “Elena, I’m so sorry,” she said, her voice shaking. “I didn’t mean to break the bowl, and I didn’t mean to come between you and Erwin. I just... I just wanted to help.”

“Help?” I echoed, my voice sharp. “By breaking the only thing I had left from him?”

Erwin stepped between us, his shoulders broad and imposing. His protective stance was meant for her, not me.

“That’s enough,” he said firmly. “You’re letting your emotions cloud your judgment, Elena. You’re supposed to be my Luna, yet here you are, acting like a jealous fool. Mina didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Didn’t do anything wrong?” I asked, my voice trembling. “She’s manipulated you from the start, Erwin. And you’re too blind to see it.”

“Enough!” he roared, his wolf fully surfacing for a moment. “Mina is family, and I will not let you treat her this way.”

The room fell silent, the air heavy with tension.

I looked at him, really looked at him, and for the first time, I saw the man he had become. The man who no longer saw me as his equal.

“You’re right,” I said quietly, my voice breaking. “I’m not acting like your Luna. Maybe that’s because I’m not your Luna anymore.”

His eyes widened slightly, but he didn’t speak.

I turned and left the room, my steps steady even as my heart shattered.

Upstairs, I closed the door to my room and leaned against it, taking a deep breath. The tears came then, hot and uncontrollable, but they didn’t last long.

My resolve hardening.I will leave here, forever.

If Erwin couldn’t see my worth, someone else would.