I was in love with him for five years—until he pushed me into the fire with his own hands.

I thought I had simply fallen out of favor, but I was wrong—he married the girl he’d grown up calling his “sister.”

During the month I spent in the hospital, he never came once.

When I finally returned home, I saw her sitting on his lap, smiling sweetly.

And me? I was nothing but the “gold digger,” the “shameless outsider” in his eyes.

It wasn’t until I turned my back and took the Alpha throne of the Bloodmoon Pack

that he went mad, chasing after me, tears streaming down his face.

“I broke off the engagement,” he cried. “Just come back—we’ll get married right now!”

When I attended the pack gathering with my boyfriend of five years, Joe Smith. I told him I wanted a family of our own.

But even after all these years, he still thought I’d always coveted the Silver Claw Pack’s fortune. He said marrying him would only be a way for me to get a share of the Smith family’s legendary vineyard business. His response was the same as always: “Let’s wait a little longer.”

That night, when I tried to talk to him again, he lost his temper. He shoved me toward the hot stove in his rush to go after the jealous Emma. The flames scorched my left arm, but he didn't even care. He was already out the door, chasing after her. Emma Smith — the Luna Joe’s mother had chosen for him, the pack’s adopted daughter, so technically his sister.

I staggered to my feet, my eyes welled up as I clutched his sleeve; begging him not go. My skin blistered, my face turned ashen. But Joe’s eyes held only Emma. He acted as if he was certain I wouldn’t get angry; believing that I couldn’t leave him. His mother stood by, watching coldly, saying nothing.

I spent a month in the hospital. A skin graft later, I could finally be discharged. This time, I didn’t throw a tantrum or beg for him. I called my father — Alpha of the distant Blood Moon Pack.

“Father,” I said, voice steady, “I accept the Alpha position as your successor.”

No one here knew that Blood Moon was my home pack. Namely, I was the one true heir to the largest and most powerful pack in the northern lands.

After finishing the discharge procedures, I took an Uber straight to Joe’s vineyard.

Standing before the vineyard gates, I suddenly realized how foreign this place was — five years of unpaid work, five years of loyalty, five years of love all meant nothing. In Joe’s eyes, I had always been a cunning schemer.

It had only been one month since I left, yet my fingerprint was stripped of access to the gate. The Omega guard stepped in front of me, blocking my way.

I pulled out my phone and called Joe. No answer.

Inside me, my wolf, Lily, snarled, “Ungrateful bastard.”

And then—Emma called me instead.

“Carol,” Emma’s voice poured through the phone, sweet and polished. “I didn’t expect you to be discharged so soon. Joe’s been worried about my safety, so the vineyard isn’t open to outsiders anymore. Don’t worry, I’ll tell the guards to let you in.”

Moments later, the iron gates that had refused me just minutes ago swung open at her command. She really did sound like she belonged here — like a Luna giving orders in her own territory.

I took a deep breath, steadied my heartbeat, and walked inside.

The path to the office was lined with the scent of oak barrels and crushed grapes — familiar, yet hollow now. When I reached Joe’s office, the door wasn’t even closed. I hesitated for a moment before pushing it open.

And froze.

Emma was sitting on Joe’s lap. He was bare-chested, his hand resting on her thigh. The air was thick with something more than words — something that had nothing to do with “brother and sister.”

When she saw me, Emma smiled faintly, like she’d been expecting me. Joe, startled, tried to nudge her off him, but Emma just pouted and stayed where she was.

He sighed, giving up.

I said nothing. Just gave a glance and placed my resignation letter on his desk.

Seeing my cold face, Joe’s brows furrowed. “Carol, listen. Emma’s only been back in Silver Claw Pack for a short time. She needs this cooperation to prove herself and she knows the family business better than you. Besides—” he exhaled, “Emma is my sister. My parents also want us to spend more time together.”

I laughed — a sound sharp enough to cut the silence. In the entire Smith family, only Joe would say that Emma was his sister. That sentence had become Joe’s favorite shield — a perfect cover for every secret meeting, every embrace, every whisper in the dark.

Emma, however, didn’t bother hiding anymore. She interrupted him, flashing a diamond ring on her finger that caught the afternoon light. “It’s not just about that, Carol. You probably don’t know yet—Joe is going to marry me.”

She lifted her hand higher, letting the gem sparkle in my face. Joe wore the matching ring on his finger.

Joe didn’t explain. He just looked at me, calm as usual. He knew I’d already made up an excuse for him in my head—and that I’d come back to him again.

I met his gaze and nodded. “Alright.”

I simply pointed at the document on his desk.

“All the cooperation materials with the White family are here.” I said evenly. “ I’ve already handed over the remaining work to others.”

Joe clearly hadn’t expected me to do something like this. His brows knitted together, face darkened.

I turned and walked away, ignoring the stunned looks from the two behind me. The burn on my arm throbbed again, sharper than before.

My love for him had already died during that month in the hospital — a month of painful treatment and endless silence from him. No calls. No visits. Just one simple Facebook message: Go get some rest. I’m busy with work.

I didn’t even realize he had followed me until I felt his shadow behind me. Joe’s arms wrapped around my waist, his face pressed into the curve of my neck, his breath brushing against my skin.

“Emma and I grew up together,” he murmured. “She gets jealous whenever I talk about marriage. About the engagement… don’t take it to heart. It’s my mother—she insists Emma must become the Luna of the Smith family. But to me, she has always been my sister. You and I can still be together…”

“I don’t care,” I cut him off, pulling myself out of his arms. “No need.”

We had been together for five years. I had once been so close to him that nothing felt forbidden. But now, his touch only filled me with disgust.

Joe’s expression twisted, he gazed at me as if he were seeing me for the first time. The obedient, considerate Carol knew he was gone.

“She and you grew up together,” I said quietly. “You’ve known her longer than me. The engagement is your mother’s will. I won’t interfere.”

“Relax, Joe. After all, it's your family business. I don't know the Whites as well as Emma does. I’m really quitting. Not out of jealousy, not out of spite.” My tone stayed level.

He let out a sigh of relief unconsciously. "I know you're the most considerate. I… …"

Before he finished, Emma’s voice drifted from the office.

“Joe, where did you put my lingerie? The lace one…”

Our eyes met. She froze for a second, then blinked innocently. “Oh, sorry. I didn’t know you were still here. Joe and I have spent so much time together lately; I just suddenly forget you’re still his girlfriend.”

I gave a faint, indifferent smile. “Never mind.”

Then I turned and left the vineyard.

The next morning, my phone rang. My father. He must have heard I’d been left.

“Carol,” his deep voice came through the line, “how are you feeling? I’m getting old, sweetheart. I just want you to come home to me. All these years, you’ve been following Joe around — no title, no status — and still letting his family mock you.”

“Come back soon and help me run our family business. You’ve done so much for Joe, but in the end, he still thinks you’re just after his land and that damn vineyard.”

My father used to say that, and I would always argue with him—because I loved Joe.

I did know that the Blood Moon Pack was the largest, the wealthiest, the most powerful—none of it mattered. Not compared to being with the man I loved.

But now, my throat feels tight, words trapped somewhere between pain and pride.

These five years in the Silver Claw Pack… I’ve never ever found my place. Neither in the vineyard nor in Joe’s heart.

“When are you coming back? I’ll get things ready for you.”

A faint ache rises in my chest. In eight days, it will be the five-year anniversary of my relationship with Joe.

“In eight days,” I said quietly. “Once I finish everything here, I’ll come back.”

I hung up the phone—only to realize Joe was already standing behind me, watching.

He frowned slightly, leaning closer to see the caller ID name on my screen.

“Eight days? Who were you talking to?”

I flipped the phone face down on the table, pretending not to care.

“A friend. We are going to travel.”

“What do you mean? Who will handle other matters of the vineyard if you leave?"

He pressed his lips together, clearly not understanding why I had to sulk.

I almost laughed. Was he just too used to having a free employee who also happened to warm his bed?

“Not necessary,” I said flatly.

My tone made something in him flicker with irritation, but before he could speak, Emma’s voice drifted up from downstairs.

“Joe, dinner’s ready! Don’t keep Mom and Dad waiting!”

The words made my fingers tremble slightly. I looked up at him.

When Joe and I had just gotten together, his parents had despised me—saw me as a poor girl from some backwater pack, unworthy of their Alpha son.

But back then, Joe would always take me to every family gathering, standing beside me without hesitation, defying them for my sake.

He once promised me that if he was alive, there would always be a place for me in the Silver Claw Pack.

But this time, Joe’s eyes darted away, his tone strangely stiff.

“After what happened last time… you know my parents’ health isn’t great. If they see you again, it’ll only stimulate them.”

He hesitated, voice softening as if trying to soothe me.

“Don’t take it the wrong way. I’ll talk to them about the engagement. Emma grew up under their roof, so of course they’re closer to her. Once things settle down… they’ll stop holding grudges.”

I watched as he walked away with her, a dull ache spreading in my chest until even swallowing tasted like blood.

Five years. That’s all it took for Joe to forget the love he once swore to me, the vows that no one would ever hurt me.

He’d forgotten them all—forgotten me—and even pushed me into the flames himself, leaving me to suffer alone in that hospital bed.

After countless rejections, I finally understood who Joe had been waiting for all along.

Tears slipped from the corners of my eyes, falling one by one onto the cold floor.

I wiped my face and drew in a deep breath.

Back at the villa, I started packing my things. Five years together had left traces of us everywhere.

I used to believe—foolishly—that he loved me.

The paintings in our home were all ones I’d picked out. He once told me he wanted a pup with me, that we’d take our little one on adventures, run through the forests under the moonlight.

But before we could even have a pup, he’d already stopped loving me.

I worked so hard that I always stayed up until midnight, which caused me constant headaches. Joe found out, and no matter where he was on a business trip, he never forgot to remind me to sleep. He would talk to me on the phone until I fell asleep.

Sometimes the pain was so severe as if it could kill me. Joe felt heartbreaking seeing me suffer. So, he learned massage from the Pack Doctor and gave me a massage when I had a headache.

Now everything blurred, fading like a memory that no longer belonged to me.

He used to notice every glance of mine—whenever my eyes lingered on something, he’d secretly buy it, awkward but full of love.

“I don’t ever want you to have to ask,” he once said, kissing my cheek and ruffling my hair, his voice gentle as he buried his face against my neck.

I don’t know when it started…

but somewhere along the way, Joe grew tired of us.

The first time I proposed to Joe, he smiled and said we were too young—that marrying too early would only make us grow tired of each other like every other couple.

The second time, I had everything prepared—a surprise, candles, the necklace he once said he loved on me. But before I could walk into the room, I overheard him talking to his friends.

“I’m bored of Carol. The spark’s gone. But she is good to me, yeah, I just can’t break up with her.”

“A girl proposing to a guy—shouldn’t she realize by now that I don’t love her?”

The last time...

I gave everything I had. I stood in front of his parents, humbling myself, saying I wanted to marry Joe. I told them I didn’t care about the Smith family’s fortune, didn’t want the Luna title. I only want to be his wife.

But his sister Emma—the one he’d grown up with though they shared no blood—was there that day. The moment when she heard my proposal, she threw a tantrum due to jealousy.

Now, all of it is over. I’ve finally let go.

Every photo I ever took of Joe over the past five years—I tore them all into pieces.

Even the love letter he wrote me, the only one, I burned to ashes with a lighter.

He didn’t message me once that following week, he was waiting for me to give in.

While I had moved my luggage out of his villa long before he noticed.

He probably thought I was throwing another tantrum, so he didn’t bother to check.

But as time went on… it seemed he started to remember I existed.

Three days before I returned to the Blood Moon Pack—our fifth anniversary—Joe finally called.

“Carol,” he said softly, “our five-year anniversary’s coming up. I booked the Quiet Sparrow Gallery, and dinner at your favorite steakhouse. We should talk.”

As his voice faded, a text appeared on my screen. It was the address.

That gallery was where we first met. We’d both reached for the same painting at the same time, even shared the same thoughts about it.

Back then, I’d foolishly believed it was Luna’s blessing. My heart had raced so wildly I thought it would burst—convinced that Joe was my fate mate for life.