Chapter 1- Two Rings

The jeweler’s bright lights gleamed off the glass counters, casting a harsh glare over the polished gold and silver.

As I stood there, my pulse quickened. Not of danger, but of happiness.

I was all smiles as I watched the jeweler bring out the rings. Even my wolf stirred in happiness.

“Here are your rings, miss,” the jeweler said, handing me two identical velvet boxes. “Please pick which is yours, ma’am.”

I glanced at the Jeweler with raised eyebrows; I was sure that I was the only one who had commissioned such designs to them, so why were there 2 velvet boxes?

My wolf stirred beneath my skin, uneasy. I felt that something wasn’t right.

My hand trembled as I opened them. Inside lay two custom-made rings, each an exact replica of the other.

One was mine; the other bore a name that didn’t belong in my pack, nor Owen’s Pack. Squinting my eyes at the name carved on it alongside Owen’s name, I didn’t need a soothsayer to tell me what was going on.

Reginald Thompson—an outsider, a human, who had no place in our bond- in our world.

Reginald was a female college student Owen had sponsored. But they suddenly started getting closer, their relationship no longer as pure as I had presumed.

I once questioned him and he said there was nothing going on.

As confusion gave way to a growl rising in my throat, I clenched my jaw to keep it suppressed.

My first instinct was to call him right away, to demand an explanation for this betrayal, but I stopped short when I caught sight of him through the store’s front window. He was standing just outside, his back to me, talking on the phone.

My heightened hearing picked up his voice, drifting in through the slightly open door.

“Please help me buy a house for Reginald in your name,” he said in a low, hurried tone. “And don’t let Carly find out.”

My heart tightened painfully in my chest, my wolf clawing to the surface as if to protect me from the blow that was coming.

The sinking feeling in my gut spread through my limbs like ice, as if the ground beneath my feet had cracked open, threatening to swallow me whole. I could sense the deceit in his words, the betrayal sharp enough to make my wolf’s snarl inwardly.

“Had their relationship already progressed to this extent? How had I not seen it?” I muttered inwardly. Unfortunately, his next words were like a slap across my face, thoroughly confirming my defeat.

“I love her. I can’t give up Reginald.”

I had to grit my teeth to stifle the growl that tore at my throat.

Owen’s calm voice carried the weight of a stone sinking in dark waters.

I stood there, frozen, the realization setting in like the bite of an icy winter wind. The man I had thought was my mate wasn’t who I believed he was. My trust had been a foolish thing—weak and human, not worthy of a wolf.

I took one last look at the matching rings, my vision blurring with hot tears, but I blinked them back, unwilling to show that I was wounded- that I was hurt.

Fine. If this was how things were, I would release him from my claim. I wouldn’t cling to a love that wasn’t returned, I wouldn’t fight for a mate who didn’t value his bond with me.

I placed Reginald’s ring back on the counter and turned away. Without a second thought, I tossed my own ring into the trash bin by the door, where it landed with a dull clink—no longer a symbol of our future together.

The cool breeze outside the shop was a relief, but it wasn’t enough to dispel the simmering rage beneath my skin.

My wolf growled, urging me to track him down, to confront him. I resisted, forcing myself to walk down the street, putting distance between me and the shop.

My phone buzzed in my hand, snapping me out of my thoughts. It was a message from Owen, sent three minutes ago.

“I’m waiting for you at the restaurant nearby.”

Of course he was. Oblivious, as always. For a moment, I considered not going, letting him wait in vain.

But I needed answers, even if I already knew deep down what they would be. I still wanted to see if there was still hope, even though I was well aware that there was none. My instincts were never wrong. I squared my shoulders, feeling the power of my wolf surge through me, and headed for the restaurant.

The closer I got, the more uneasy I felt, my senses sharpening as the bustling street faded around me. I could hear the low hum of conversation and smell the various scents mingling in the air, but all of it was background noise to the tightening knot in my stomach.

As I entered the restaurant, I spotted him at a table by the window, his back turned. He was still on the phone, his voice hushed.

“Yeah, the house needs to be arranged quickly,” he said. “Reginald will be moving in as soon as it’s ready.”

I halted mid-step, my wolf bristling at the mention of her name. I fought the urge to shift then and there, to let my wolf take control and end this charade. Instead, I took a deep breath and walked up to the table, knocking lightly on the wood to announce my presence. He spun around, his expression shifting from surprise to panic in a heartbeat.

“Carly, when did you get here?” he asked, hastily ending the call. He forced a smile, but his eyes betrayed him.

“Just arrived,” I replied, my voice calm, though my wolf growled behind my words. “Who were you talking to?”

His hesitation spoke louder than any words could. “It was a call from my elder brother,” he said, too casually. “Reminding me about coming back home this afternoon.”

I nodded slowly, suppressing a snarl. “Well then, let’s not waste any time,” I said. “You’ll need to head back soon.”

He signaled for the waiter, his gaze lingering on me for a moment too long. “So, did you pick up the ring? Was it everything you expected?”

“It was… nice,” I replied, locking eyes with him. “But there was a surprise. Another ring, exactly like the one I designed.” I let the silence stretch, my wolf relishing his discomfort.

“That must be some kind of mistake,” he blurted. “I’ll check with the shop.”

I didn’t press further, even though his response was a flimsy cover for his lies. I leaned back, letting the quiet grow between us. He seemed unsettled by my silence.

Normally, I would fill the gaps with chatter, easing the tension. But I wasn’t that woman anymore—not for him, and not for anyone who would betray a bond.

Things had been different when we first started dating. He used to listen, used to care. But then Reginald had appeared, and I had sensed the shift, even if I hadn’t wanted to see it. My wolf had sensed it too, growling at the changes in him, at the way he looked past me as if I wasn’t even there.

“Girls are cuter when they talk less,” he had once said with a laugh, and I had dismissed it. But my wolf had never forgotten.

Chapter 2- Memories

Growing up, Owen and I had always known we were meant for each other.

We’d been childhood sweethearts, a bond that had only strengthened over time. Our families were close, both in pack and business.

My father was the Alpha of Crystal Pack and the CEO of Crystal Conglomerate, while Owen’s father led Jostum Pack and ran Jostum Conglomerate.

For as long as I could remember, our marriage had been planned, destined. We understood the expectations, so we had always been careful, respectful, and distant with the opposite sex.

Yet Reginald had changed everything.

It had all started with a simple act of compassion.

I’d first met her when she was little more than a bundle of bones, her appearance pale and malnourished compared to her peers.

I had met her at a charity event held by the company. She had this kind of sweetness about her, a charm that endeared her to everyone she met. I’d felt drawn to her in a way I couldn’t quite explain, and I wanted to lift her out of her hardships.

But I didn’t have the resources to help her on my own, so I turned to Owen.

At first, he balked at the idea. Feeling that it was a waste of money, time and resources.

“I don’t have time to play these house games with you,” he’d scoffed.

I’d dropped the topic, feeling disappointed but not entirely surprised by his response. I still hoped I could help her and planned to do it in my own little way.

And then I was in a car accident.

I didn’t remember much from that time; only the blurred faces of nurses and doctors, the sterile smell of antiseptics, and the muffled voices of my parents.

But what I heard afterward was that Owen had gone to extraordinary lengths for me. He’d made desperate pleas to the universe, praying at temples and shrines, places he normally dismissed as nonsense.

Driven by his guilt, he’d even turned back to Reginald, supporting her in the name of accumulating virtue, hoping his good deeds might bring me back to him.

Remarkably, I did pull through. Within days, my condition had stabilized, and I was finally allowed home to recover. He’d come to visit me in the hospital, bringing a shy smile and a bouquet.

I remembered his words, laced with humor but sincere: “It seems Reginald has become your benefactor, Carly. You owe her.” He had laughed, and so had I, seeing it as nothing more than a joke.

But I had taken it to heart. From that day on, I treated Reginald like a sister. I shared what I had with her, from clothes to opportunities, lifting her up whenever I could. She became a part of my life, someone I trusted implicitly.

Or so I thought.

When I looked back, the warning signs were all there, but I’d ignored them.

She had crept into my life like a silent predator, building her nest in the quiet spaces I had opened to her.

I could feel that something had shifted between Owen and me, something neither of us wanted to admit.

Even as I sat across from him now, his eyes meeting mine with a hint of guilt, I could feel the tension that had grown between us, the silent friction.

As the memories of her subtle betrayals flooded back, I felt a sour taste at the back of my throat. I barely touched my food, poking at it listlessly until I finally set my spoon down. Owen noticed, his brow creasing as he asked, his voice filled with concern, “Is something wrong with the food?”

I looked down at the table, catching sight of the multiple chili-laden dishes scattered around. Owen knew I couldn’t handle spicy food. Yet it felt oddly symbolic of my situation now—overlooked, pushed to the side.

“Is the food not to your liking?” he asked, noticing I’d barely touched my plate.

I lifted my head to find him already realizing his mistake. His expression softened with regret.

“I’m sorry, Carly. I forgot you can’t eat spicy food,” he murmured, his tone apologetic.

Taking a breath, I readied myself to finally bring up what had been on my mind. The words were about to leave my lips when a familiar honeyed voice broke through the silence. The lilting voice floated from the doorway, one that sent a prickle of discomfort down my spine.

“Owen!”

I looked up, spotting Reginald at the door, her figure framed by a flowing white dress that accentuated her slender frame.

Her face lit up with a sweet smile, her eyes finding Owen before landing on me. A flicker of surprise crossed her face, but she quickly replaced it with a friendly, if not slightly forced, grin. “Oh, Carly’s here too.”

Her smile, though practiced, had a strained quality to it when directed at me. There was a subtle note of indifference, something I might have mistaken for mere shyness once. Now, it felt like an insult.

I watched her, saying nothing.

Owen, on the other hand, sighed and gave her a disapproving look. “Reginald, have you ever thought about knocking before entering?”

The irritation in Owen’s voice would have seemed real if I didn’t know about their affair.

She just laughed, waving off his irritation as if it were an endearing flaw of his. “Oh, I forgot! I’ll remember next time.” Then, glancing back at me with her usual charm, she added, “Mind if I join you for lunch, Carly? I’m starving after class.”

But her gaze remained fixed on Owen, as though my presence was merely a formality.

Owen didn’t wait for me to respond. “Of course, sit down if you’re hungry. There’s plenty here, and if you want more, order whatever you like.” His tone was easy, but his eyes flickered toward me, catching my expression.

Reginald took a seat to his right, smiling brightly as if this were all her right. “No need, Owen,” she said, giving him a warm look. “You’ve already ordered all my favorites.”

Owen’s expression faltered, his eyes snapped up to meet mine. For a second, he looked uneasy, almost guilty. I kept my face carefully blank, though inside, I could feel a bitter warmth pooling.

“Yes, do eat,” I said, gesturing to the spread. “Enjoy it all.”

Owen’s face softened slightly, though there was a question in his eyes, a silent plea to say something. But I stayed silent, unable to force the words out.

“Carly, if you want anything else, feel free to order,” he offered, passing me the menu, his eyes searching mine.

I took the menu and forced a smile, though I knew it didn’t reach my eyes. “No, I think I’ll pass. I don’t have much of an appetite. Saw something this morning that completely put me off food.”

He frowned, the concern back on his face. “What was it?”

I kept my tone light, but every word felt like a needle as I continued. “Oh, just a friend of mine. Her boyfriend’s been cheating on her with a lady that has some sexually transmitted disease and unfortunately, he got it and is currently in the hospital.

My friend sent a picture of his groin area, and it was gross.”

I watched Owen’s face as I spoke. His expression tightened, the guilt flashing like a flare behind his eyes. I held his gaze, unwavering, letting the silence stretch between us.

“People like that... they don’t deserve to be buried,” I finished softly. “Don’t you agree, Owen?”

He swallowed, looking cornered. His response came hesitantly. “Yes... yes, of course.”

Her forced cheer didn’t fool me, not in the least. I could tell she was feeling guilty. Looking at her forced smile and how she evaded my gaze, I felt a flicker of satisfaction sparked in me.

“Carly,” Reginald said with forced enthusiasm, casting a sidelong glance at Owen. “Maybe… maybe that boy hasn’t felt anything for his girlfriend in a long time, right? It’s not as bad as you think.”

I scoffed; the sound raw even to my own ears. “If the feelings are gone, why not break up? Why drag things out? Reginald, you’re still young—you don’t know how some men think these days.” My words cut sharply, satisfying some deep itch that had been bothering me.

Owen glanced up, his eyes narrowing as I spoke, but I couldn’t care less. There was something about the way Reginald cowered beside him, looking almost small under his gaze. That made me wonder if she’d even considered the mess she’d walked into.

“If he actually loved his so-called ‘mistress,’ he wouldn’t hesitate to end things with his girlfriend,” I continued, unflinching. “But, of course, no decent man would do that, so he makes his lover act like a shameful, desperate sidepiece instead.”

I could see the shame bloom in Reginald’s face, her eyes darting away to avoid mine. A wave of satisfaction washed over me, even as Owen’s scowl deepened.

“Why are you getting so worked up over other people’s business?” Owen finally snapped, the tension in his voice evident. But he knew better than to meet my gaze for too long. He looked down, his face impassive, as though he couldn’t afford to let his emotions show.

I let out a sarcastic chuckle. “Yes, Owen, I’m sure you’re above that sort of behavior,” I said, my voice thick with irony. The words hit him square, leaving him at a loss. That, at least, was gratifying.

Reginald, visibly flustered, shifted uncomfortably until the show finally wrapped up. She avoided looking at me entirely after that, choosing to keep her attention firmly on Owen or the floor.

After lunch, Owen suggested driving Reginald home, but I declined immediately. My heart still beat with resentment.

Owen offered to drive Reginald back to her dorm, and she hesitated, eyes darting between us.

“Owen, just take Carly home,” she murmured awkwardly, managing a timid smile. “I can get a taxi.”

Perhaps she was afraid I’d somehow disrupt her precious arrangement with Owen, or worse, cut off her little line of financial support. I could practically smell the fear on her. People could be so greedy—she wanted everything she could take. A free ride, my affection, and Owen all in one go.

Before I could voice my thoughts, Owen’s voice cut in, cold and commanding. “Carly can get home on her own,” he said with an edge that surprised me. “But you, Reginald—you shouldn’t be taking a taxi alone. It’s too dangerous with your school being so remote. I’ll take you back myself.”

The words stung, a bitter slap to my pride. If I hadn’t been his girlfriend, I’d have assumed he was standing up for her as if she was the girlfriend.

Reginald looked at me with a hint of embarrassment, opening the car door naturally, slipping into the seat beside him as if it were her right.

“Goodbye, Carly,” she said through the open window, giving a feigned, overly bright smile. “Be careful on your way back.”

I watched them pull away, my hands balling into fists at my sides as I felt a dull ache of betrayal settle in. It was laughable, really—Owen and I had known each other for twenty years. I never imagined I’d see this side of him, the side capable of deceit, the side I had been too blind to notice.

I turned on my heel, laughter rising within me as my heart twisted painfully. I walked home alone, each step marked with the bitter resolve to reclaim my own self-respect.

Anyway, I needed space, air, anything but him right now.

---

Owen returned late that night, his shirt reeking of alcohol. I was sprawled on the sofa, mindlessly watching TV when he stumbled in, his jacket slung haphazardly over his shoulder. He tossed a box onto the coffee table in front of me, the gold wrapping glinting under the soft light.

“It’s a new bag,” he slurred, collapsing onto the couch beside me. “Got it just for you. Thought you’d like it.”

I eyed him, unimpressed, and calmly slid over to the single sofa across the room, putting more distance between us.

He looked at me, a flicker of annoyance crossing his face. “What?” he muttered, reaching out as if to bring me closer.

“You reek of alcohol,” I replied simply, folding my arms as I held his gaze. “Take a shower first, at least.”

He lowered his head, sniffing his shirt, then silently got up, shoulders tense, and disappeared into the bathroom.

With a sigh, I leaned over and picked up the box he’d thrown. Opening it revealed a bright, cheery green handbag, the kind better suited for a carefree, younger girl. It was fresh and vibrant in a way that clashed with everything I liked.

My lips pressed into a tight line as I set the bag aside, picking up my phone for distraction. My feed filled with various posts, but one account in particular made me pause. It seemed oddly familiar, yet I couldn’t quite place it. Curiosity piqued, I clicked through to the page.

As I scrolled, my heart began to pound in disbelief. Photos of the interior of a dorm caught my eye, each detail in the background so unmistakably familiar. It was Reginald’s. I’d helped her move in during her freshman year, setting up her space.

A cold chill swept over me as I continued scrolling. She hadn’t taken these photos in her dorm alone. Some of the backgrounds were painfully recognizable—she’d taken pictures in my own home. My blood turned to ice. Had Owen brought her here without telling me? Rage, thick and overwhelming, began to bubble up. My eyes glinted, changing color just to show how angry my wolf was as well.

Suddenly, I remembered his phone call earlier, where he’d asked someone to help her buy an apartment. My fingers shook as I swiped through more photos. Each accessory, each bag, each piece of jewelry… they were duplicates of gifts he’d bought me.

I stood up, heart pounding, and stormed into the bedroom. I flung open my closet, comparing my items to the pictures on her account. The realization hit hard, each truth like a knife slicing through my trust. He hadn’t just betrayed me with words—he had shared my life, my world, with her.

Tears blurred my vision, and I laughed bitterly at myself, my hand covering my mouth as I struggled to stifle the sound. My generosity, my trust, my love—it was all a joke. I’d offered my heart and been left with this cruel charade. I clenched my fists, the hurt and anger swirling into a fierce determination.

Pulling out my phone, I took photos of everything—the bags, the jewelry, the videos she’d posted. I saved each one as evidence. I knew this wasn’t simply a personal break; the entanglement of our families’ businesses and histories made it a complicated affair. But these images would make things a little easier.

When I walked out, Owen was buttoning up his shirt. He glanced up, catching my cold gaze.

“There’s a… situation at Reginald’s school,” he said, voice oddly shaky. “There’s been a string of incidents, and they still haven’t caught the guy. It’s not safe, so I’m going to pick her up. She’ll be staying here tonight.”

I watched him, the emptiness in my gaze reflecting the quiet anger building inside me. “Owen,” I said, my voice unwavering, “if you walk out that door, we’re done. We’re over.”

He froze, a look of shock passing through his eyes before it morphed into anger. “What’s that supposed to mean, Carly?” he demanded.

I sneered, crossing my arms. “Did I stutter?”

With a low, bitter laugh, he shook his head, casting me a scornful glance. “You’re being irrational. I have to go.”

Without another word, he turned, slamming the door behind him. As the echo faded, so did the last trace of patience I had left. I had nothing else to wait for.

I packed a few belongings, my heart oddly calm, and threw them into the back seat of my car. I drove straight to my family’s estate, where the silence was comforting, a welcome escape from the noise of betrayal.

Settling into the quiet, I composed a message in our family’s group chat, including snapshots of everything I’d uncovered. I added a simple statement: “Owen and I are over. The wedding is canceled.”

The response was immediate, a flood of messages filling the screen, but I ignored them.

Moments later, Owen’s name popped up in my private messages.

“Carly, delete the message!” he demanded. “What are you trying to do? Where are you? Let’s talk this over.”

I ignored him, blocking his number. Moments later, another notification popped up. It was from Reginald and it read:

“Carly, I know I’ve hurt you, and I’m sorry. But Owen and I… we truly love each other. If you’re angry, then take it out on me—don’t punish Owen for it.”