I always believe that my bond with my fated mate was a carefully curated illusion of perfection, a fragile facade that masked the deep cracks of betrayal and heartache lurking within our marital home.

To outsiders, Andros and Celestine were the epitome of strength and unity—Andros, with his commanding presence and leadership skills, second only to the Alpha himself, and Celes, with her gentle demeanor and inherent kindness. Yet, behind closed doors, their reality was a stark contrast to the picture-perfect image they projected.

The whispers of discontent, the shadows of secrets, and the echoes of unspoken pain reverberated through the walls of their seemingly perfect life, threatening to shatter the carefully constructed illusion at any moment.

And it did.

Celes had become accustomed to the weight of the relentless emotional manipulation from Andros' family. Their wealth and heritage stood in stark contrast to her humble origins. They never missed an opportunity to remind her of her lower status, making her feel unworthy of her position beside the Beta. Andros' younger sister, Alesandrina, was the only member who showed her kindness, a rare thing because she hated Celes at first. She particularly became fond of her brother's mate after she treated her wounds during a pack emergency, a moment that marked the beginning of their unlikely friendship.

Sure, Celes could tolerate the harshness of Andros' family. But what she couldn't bear was the broken marriage, a bond that had fallen apart before it even began.

How could she fight for someone who had given her every reason to give up?

The emotional manipulation from his family was hard enough, but the real pain came from knowing that her marriage was beyond saving. Despite trying to hold on, she couldn't ignore the truth: you can't fight for someone who never hold on for you in the first place.

"Ugh!"

Celes woke up with a start, her heart pounding in the quiet room, her eyes wide. The late pre-dusk glow filtered through the curtains, casting an orange tinge on the walls. As her mind slowly cleared from the fog of sleep, the memories came rushing back, hitting her like a tidal wave.

Gone. Again.

She could still feel the dull ache in her lower abdomen. Tears welled up in her eyes, blurring her vision. She tried to swallow the lump in her throat, but it was no use. The pain was too fresh, too raw.

Her hand instinctively moved to her stomach, resting on the place where life had once been. The emptiness was overwhelming, a void that seemed to swallow her whole.

As she lay there, staring at the ceiling, a single tear slipped down her cheek. She didn't wipe it away. Instead, she let it fall, the grief consuming her whole that she could not breathe.

For a moment, she allowed herself to feel the pain, to mourn the child she would never hold. But she knew she had to get up because the last thing she wanted was for Andros to see how miserable she was. So, with a deep, shuddering breath, she wiped her tears and slowly sat up.

Following her second miscarriage, Celes found herself under the care of Old Sage, the pack's stern and dedicated Head Healer. As she reclined on the bed, her body still weak and her heart heavier than ever, she overheard Sage discussing the growing tension within the pack due to the Alpha's disappearance. Rumors of strange disturbances in the forest had been circulating, and Sage had his suspicions about the real cause. The words seemed distant to Celes, like echoes in a vast, empty room.

This is for the better, she forced herself to believe.

When Andros arrived to collect her, he was noticeably distracted, checking his watch repeatedly.

"I received urgent news from the scouts," he said, the same excuse he used every time he wanted to leave. His eyes barely met hers as he spoke. "I need to leave."

Celes, now hardened by his repeated absences, gave him a detached nod, her emotions buried deep within her. He left quickly, slipping into his wolf form as he exited the healer’s quarters, his eyes briefly meeting Sage’s. There was an unspoken understanding between them, but Celes was too weary to ponder it.

After resting for an hour longer, Celes decided to head back to their home. She signed out in the official entry logbook at the reception, but her hand paused as she saw three familiar names written.

Szarina and Reign.

With Andros.

For a moment, she just stood there, unmoving. Her heart clenched, a mixture of anger and pain welling up inside her. But she clamped down on the emotions, wrote her name, and left without a word.

As she walked back to their residence, the moonlight cast long shadows across the forest path, and an eerie stillness hung in the air. The silence was almost oppressive, pressing down on her as she made her way through the familiar yet unsettling darkness.

That night, Celes prepared a simple meal for herself and drank the herbal remedy that Old Sage had prescribed. The herbs were meant to help her heal, but their bitter taste only reminded her of her isolation and pain.

When Andros finally returned home late in the evening, Celes was already asleep. She stirred awake when she felt a kiss on her lips. Opening her eyes slightly, she saw her husband's face inches from hers.

"I'm hungry," he said, his tone almost pleading. "There's no food."

Celes blinked, trying to shake off the remnants of sleep.

"I didn't cook much," she mumbled, her voice flat.

"How was your stay at the Healer?" Andros asked, his voice laced with faux concern. "I'm sorry for leaving you alone."

Celes felt a surge of anger but quickly buried it.

"I'm still sleepy," she said, turning away from him. "You should take a bath."

Andros nodded, clearly sensing her coldness. "I'll join you soon," he said, trying to sound reassuring.

Celes didn't bother to reply. As she closed her eyes, she reprimanded herself for not asking him what he was doing with Szarina and her child at the Healer's when she was having a miscarriage, nor where he had been today. The foreign scent on him was unmistakable. She felt a deep sense of betrayal but was too exhausted to confront him. Instead, she let the darkness of sleep pull her under, a temporary escape from the pain that had become her constant companion.

The next morning, Celes was awoken by the howls of wolves in the distance. She had grown accustomed to the pack's rituals, but today the howls seemed different, more mournful. It was as if the entire forest was grieving, their sorrow echoing through the trees.

After a somber breakfast, she visited Old Sage for a follow-up appointment. The quiet, dimly lit room felt heavy with unspoken words. Sage, absorbed in his notes, finally looked up, his eyes piercing into hers.

"I'll be straight to the point. I want you to become my apprentice, Celes," he said, his voice steady and deliberate.

Celes was taken aback. "I'm sorry?"

Sage's gaze was resolute.

"Why me?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper.

The honor of the offer, knowing Sage’s esteemed reputation as a healer both within and beyond the pack, was overwhelming. To work under him and learn from him would be a privilege beyond measure. But of all healers, why her?

Sage’s gaze softened. "I see your potential," he replied simply, not elaborating further. "You have a natural talent in healing." His words, though few, held weight.

For the first time that week, Celes felt a flicker of happiness. But it was instantly crushed when Andros’s face popped into her mind. Her momentary joy was overshadowed by the thought of Andros’s likely disapproval. She was all too familiar with his tendency to belittle her aspirations, making her doubt herself at every turn.

Sage, still observing her like a hawk, noticed the change in her expression.

"Think about it," he said gently. "You don't have to give me an answer right now."

Celes nodded, appreciating his patience.

"Thank you, Sage. I will think about it. Really."

As their conversation ended, she received a mindlink from Andros. His voice invaded her thoughts, filled with the same old complaints and grievances.

[Why didn't you wake me up, Celes? I overslept because you left without telling me.]

Celes used to cater to his every need, but now she felt a new resolve. "Since you're going to be late, you’d better get up soon," she replied calmly.

[What am I going to wear?] Andros asked.

"Just choose whatever you want from the closet," she said.

[But I can't find anything that's ironed...]

Celes almost rolled her eyes.

"Andros. I'm sorry but I have to go. You'll figure it out," she said, ending the link.

[Cel—]

Returning home, Celes found herself at a crossroads. Every fiber of her being agreed to the idea of working under Old Sage. It was a dream she had harbored for years, inspired by her mother, who was also a healer. She grew up watching her mother treat almost every sickness with just some herbal medicine, marveling at the magic of healing.

Yet, there was one thing that held her back—the part of her that still beat for her mate, the part that clung to the hope that Andros would change, that he would recognize her worth and support her dreams. She thought hard about Old Sage's proposition, weighing her desires against her reality.

As the day wore on, she wrestled with her decision. The thought of disappointing Andros filled her with dread, but the opportunity to follow in her mother's footsteps, to learn from the best and become a healer too, was too precious to ignore.

Finally, after a long and tumultuous internal debate, Celes made a choice.

The following day, Celes made her way to the Healer’s quarters, her heart both heavy and hopeful as she prepared to give her answer to Old Sage. The path seemed shorter than usual, her steps light with anticipation. When she arrived, Sage was already seated at his desk, surrounded by the familiar aroma of herbs and old parchment. The room, a sanctuary of wisdom and healing, felt like a second home to her.

Comfortable

Nostalgic.

“Good morning, Celes,” Sage greeted, looking up from his notes. His sharp eyes softened as he saw her.

“Good morning, Sage,” she replied, trying to keep her voice steady.

"What brought you here? Have you decided now?"

Celes looked at him for a moment, before taking a deep breath.

“I have. I've been thinking about this for the past couple days, and..." she sighed, "I wanted to thank you for the opportunity you’ve given me. I will take your offer. I’m eager to learn and help in any way I can.”

Sage’s rare smile was a balm to her nerves. “I’m glad to hear that you and Andros have considered my invitation,” he said, his tone warm.

Celes felt a pang of guilt but did not correct him about the omission of her husband’s approval. She simply accepted his response and sat down to begin her studies.

"So, where do I start?"

Without wasting any time, Sage handed her a stack of books filled with medical knowledge and herbal remedies. The ancient texts were dense with information, but Celes dove into them with a fervor she hadn’t felt in years. Each page opened up new worlds of possibility, and she lost herself in the intricate details of healing arts and the lore of ancient wolf remedies. The hours slipped away unnoticed as she absorbed every piece of knowledge she could.

By the time she returned home, the evening had settled into darkness. The house was quiet, but Andros’s presence was palpable. He greeted her with a sharp edge in his voice, demanding to know where she had been and why there was no dinner prepared.

Celes stood momentarily stunned by the abruptness of his accusation but said nothing. Her silence was a quiet rebellion against his demands.

She moved to the kitchen to prepare a simple meal, her hands moving mechanically as she tried to ignore the tension between them. They ate in silence, the weight of unspoken words hanging heavily in the air.

Andros, perhaps sensing her discontent, offered to wash the dishes, a rare gesture that felt more like an obligation than an act of kindness. Celes accepted the offer with a muted nod, her mind already drifting back to the solace she had found in her studies.

At least, I have something to look forward to.

That night, as they lay in bed, Celes was roused from sleep by Andros’s groans of discomfort. He complained of a stomachache, his voice tinged with melodramatic pain.

Still half-asleep, Celes mumbled, "You should find something for yourself."

Andros turned to her, his face contorted with hurt and betrayal. "You used to care," he said quietly, his eyes searching hers for a hint of the woman who once went out of her way to look after him.

Celes, struggling to keep her eyes open, sighed. "Andros, it's late. I'm tired."

His expression hardened, the distance between them growing more palpable in the dim light. "I see," he whispered, turning away from her.

Celes watched his back for a moment, the weight of their strained relationship settling heavily on her chest. She closed her eyes, feeling the guilt of her silent reproach as she tried to drift back to sleep. But flood of memories came rushing back to her—a time when she had been caught in the rain, desperate to bring him medicine to soothe his stomachache.

It was raining heavily.

I arrived at the Consul’s office, drenched and disheveled, my hair plastered to my face and clothes clinging uncomfortably to my skin. The sentinels and scouts, including Andros’s own Gamma and Delta, turned to me with mocking laughter.

“What are you doing here, Celes? Looking for a place to dry off?”

"C'mon, she's the Beta's mate?"

"Scrawny look suits you, doll."

Ignoring them, I pushed forward, my heart pounding. I found Andros at his desk, papers strewn around him.

“Andros,” I panted, holding out the medicine, “I brought this for you.”

He looked up, his expression icy. “What are you doing here?” he demanded, his tone laced with irritation.

“I heard you were sick."

His eyes flicked over my rain-soaked form with disdain. “You look like a drowned rat."

That erupted laughter from his own men.

As if embarrassed, he yanked my wrist and dragged me outside. When we were out of the room, he hissed.

"You’re embarrasing me, Celes. Don’t ever come to my office again.”

Now, lying in bed beside him, the memory of that day stung anew. The humiliation, the cold dismissal—it all came rushing back, a painful reminder of the disdain he had shown her. She had been drenched and humiliated, her sincere effort ignored and ridiculed.

Shaking off the painful recollection, Celes rose from the bed and prepared a mixture of herbal tea and an ointment for Andros’s stomachache. The process was familiar and comforting, a connection to her mother’s teachings and the promise of a new beginning under Old Sage’s mentorship.

"Here, drink this. It will help."

As she handed the remedies to Andros, he looked at her with a mixture of surprise and curiosity.

“Where did you learn this?” he asked, taking the cup of tea and sniffing it cautiously. “This is the first time you’ve done something like this.”

Celes shrugged. “Sage taught me.”