When Damon Hawthorne's father contacted me, I was lying next to Damon.

I thought his father was joking and said to the man beside me with a laugh, "Damon, I heard your old flame is back. They're planning a bonding ceremony for you two."

But he just mumbled sleepily and pulled me into his arms.

"Avalon, I'll need you to use that calming gift of yours on me later. I want to be at my best for the ceremony."

"I'm nervous about seeing her."

I froze.

Damon sensed me stiffen and his eyes fluttered open. A mocking laugh escaped him.

"Seriously? Avalon, we're fated mates. That's it. You didn't actually think that meant I'd choose you, did you?"

————————

1

For a moment, I couldn't even process what Damon Hawthorne had said.

I just floundered, trying to hide my panic.

I didn't dare look at him.

I pushed him away, grabbed my clothes off the floor, and scrambled into them.

"Avalon Reed, look at me," he said, propping himself up on an elbow, a teasing smile playing on his lips.

"You don't actually believe fate is everything, do you?"

His words, 'fated mates, that's it,' echoed in my mind.

My hands were trembling so badly I couldn't even fasten my buttons.

Damon sighed, threw back the covers to reveal his lean, toned abs, and knelt on the bed.

Then, he reached out and skillfully buttoned my shirt for me.

I lowered my head and let out a bitter laugh.

"Who is she? Don't tell me it's just some random girl."

I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror.

Faint red marks still covered my body, and my legs felt weak and sore.

Damon buried his head in the crook of my neck. "Gritte Monroe."

He lifted his beautiful, mischievous eyes and continued, "She was the girl I was obsessed with in college. To be honest, I'm a little nervous about seeing her again."

My hand froze in mid-air.

Of course I remembered Gritte.

He used to be infatuated with her.

But she had moved overseas before he could confess his feelings.

I thought he had moved on.

Damon looked at me and pursed his lips.

"Avalon Reed, don't get any funny ideas."

"We grew up together. And sure, you're special, and we have great chemistry in bed."

"But I only see you as my closest ally."

He grinned.

"I love hunting with you, running with you, doing all sorts of things together…"

"But I really can't imagine spending the rest of my life with you."

His words hit me like a physical blow.

A chill ran down my spine, and I forced a strained smile.

He went on, his tone casual, as if discussing the weather.

"I can sense your every mood swing before it even happens. To be honest, it’s boring."

"Sometimes, I wake up and see you next to me, and it actually startles me."

"It scares me. What if we actually gave in to this biological instinct and bonded?"

"It would feel like my life was over before it even began."

"I know you too well. If we really became mates, life would be so dull."

He shuddered, as if the very thought terrified him.

I dug my nails into my palms, forcing myself not to cry.

"I have to go." I threw on my jacket and fled, a coward deserting the battlefield of his bed.

I used to think what Damon and I had was a gift from fate.

We did everything fated mates do.

We shared food, ran together under the moon, and horsed around with our friends.

We would kiss during games of truth or dare and say "I love you" without hesitation.

He'd pick me up and drop me off every time it rained.

During pack dinners, he'd secretly hold my hand under the table, sending warmth through our connection.

But I never imagined that what felt like six months of a blossoming romance was just a game to him.

"Avalon?" My mother, Elena Reed, tapped on the car window, her face etched with concern.

I snapped back to reality.

I quickly wiped the tears from my face, got out of the car, and forced a smile.

"Mom!" I threw myself into her arms before she could get a good look at my face. "I've missed you."

She was holding a shopping bag and linked her arm through mine, visibly relieved.

"You scared me to death! What were you doing sitting in the car for so long?"

I said nothing, and the silence stretched until Mom abruptly changed the subject.

"By the way, Damon's bonding ceremony is tonight."

"This time, Mr. and Mrs. Hawthorne are taking it very seriously. They said Damon has had his heart set on this girl for a long time."

"He wants you there, too. He's hoping you can use your calming gift to help soothe the girl's nerves."

"He's afraid she'll be too nervous. We're so close with the Hawthornes, so you..."

She trailed off, looking uneasy.

I forced a smile.

"Don't worry, Mom. I get it. I'll do my part."

Mom looked at me with pity in her eyes.

She had seen the sketches of Damon on my drawing board and the carefully treasured gifts he’d given me.

How could she not understand?

We walked home in silence.

As I opened the door, I said suddenly, "Once Dad steps down from his pack duties next month, let's move to Silvermoon City."

Mom froze.

I linked my arm through hers and said with feigned playfulness, "Haven't you been talking about wanting to settle down there for years?"

"Besides, I don't have any grand ambitions. I just want to be a painter and stay by your side. That's more than enough for me."

Sitting in the grand hall of the Hawthorne estate with my parents again felt worlds away from how it used to.

Every other time I'd come here, I had been happy and relaxed.

The last time, I'd used a painting discussion as an excuse to sneak into his room and had ended up in his bed.

But this time…

"Elena, you have no idea how much effort that boy put into wooing Gritte," Damon's mother, Victoria Hawthorne, chattered on.

"He could have just pursued her on his own, but he insisted on inviting her with the intention of bonding."

"Alistair even invited many of the Pack elders to make today's ceremony more formal."

I looked around at the meticulously decorated outdoor manor, filled with moonlight flowers.

The tables in the banquet hall were laden with fresh fruit, honey, and light tea.

Damon was standing in front of a mirror, checking his reflection over and over, making sure he looked perfect.

I found it absurdly comical.

Just last night, we were tangled in his sheets, his lips lingering passionately on the small mole on my waist.

Even the shirt he was wearing now was one I had helped him pick out that morning.

"It's such a shame," Victoria said, holding my mother's hand.

"We always used to hope you two would bond, so our families could become even closer!"

She glanced at me, her tone gentle.

"I've always been fond of Avalon. She's gifted, kind, and cheerful…"

I lowered my head, not daring to make a sound.

I was terrified that if I let my guard down for a second, the tears would fall.

Damon's brows furrowed in obvious annoyance.

"Mom! Those are your ideas, not mine."

"If you and Mrs. Reed are such great friends, why don't you bond with her yourself?"

"What does that have to do with me?"

Then, he turned to me, his tone hard and cold, as if Victoria's words were my fault.

He asked, "Avalon Reed, where's the moonstone bracelet I gave you? Give it back."

I didn't answer.

He strode over and yanked up my sleeve.

"Our so-called mate token."

"I just don't want Gritte to see it and get the wrong idea."

The moment he finished speaking, both Alistair Hawthorne and my dad froze.

Even my mom, who was arranging the ceremonial wreath for Damon, stilled her hands.

Instantly, the atmosphere became incredibly awkward.

Mom looked at me, then slammed the wreath and scissors down on the table.

She shot to her feet, but Victoria grabbed her arm first.

Then, Victoria stepped between Damon and me and gave him a hard shove.

"Damon! What are you doing?"

"Even if you're going to be with Gritte, you can't treat Avalon like this."

"Have you forgotten?"

"When you were seventeen, you knelt and cried, begging Avalon to wear that bracelet."

"Because only she could calm your frenzy after your first shift!"

His mother's words seemed to jolt Damon back to reality.

He remembered that year, when another wolf had shown interest in me.

In his panic, he lost control of his powers, stole the family's moonstone heirloom bracelet in the middle of the night, and ran to my house.

He knelt on the floor, crying and begging me to wear the bracelet that would resonate with our powers.

Now, he tugged at his tie, took a deep breath, and forced a smile.

"I overreacted."

"I… I don't take back gifts. You can keep it."

"It's fine. I'll return it to you. I'll go home and get it now," I said calmly.

Before anyone could react, I left.

When I returned with the bracelet and pushed open the main door, a chorus of welcomes caught me off guard.

"Welcome..." Damon froze the moment he saw me. "What are you doing here?"

He clearly hadn't expected me to come back, much less that I would actually return the bracelet.

A flash of disbelief crossed his face.

Finally, he took it and leaned in to whisper through our mind-link, "Avalon, we've always been good. Do me a favor. Don't make a scene today."

"Gritte is sensitive. Don't say anything that might upset her."

I couldn't be bothered to answer.

I looked at the wolf I had loved my entire youth, the cold in my chest almost consuming me.

Ten minutes later, Gritte and her family arrived at the Hawthorne estate.

The elders quickly fell into conversation, getting along exceptionally well.

Meanwhile, Damon sat beside Gritte.

He was doting on her, anticipating her every desire.

He was almost thirty, yet now he was like a nervous teenager on his first date.

With nothing to do, I decided to slip away quietly.

But just then, Gritte suddenly turned to me, a gentle smile on her face.

"So, you're Avalon."

"I've heard a lot about you."

"You're that rare visionary painter, right?"

Caught off guard, I waved a dismissive hand. "Oh, no, you're too kind."

I didn't want to chat with her, but she seemed to have other ideas.

She continued, "Don't say that. I remember the painting you showed at the festival. The next day, it was surrounded by flowers!"

Before I could respond, she playfully tugged on Damon's arm and asked, "You two grew up together, right?"

"I always thought you two would end up together. Everyone thought so."

All eyes turned to me.

Although her tone was gentle, her words had a sharp edge that made me uncomfortable.

"Her?" Damon chuckled softly, handing Gritte a slice of honeydew melon.

"To you, she might be an artist, maybe even a goddess."

"But to me, she's just a packmate. My best friend."

He suddenly laughed as if remembering something funny.

"You should have seen her as a kid."

"During her first shift, she couldn't control her form at all and just rolled around in the mud like a little mud ball."

"And the first time she tried to paint a wolf, her focus suddenly shattered and she almost drove her inner wolf mad. The way she was flailing her paintbrush around was hilarious."

"I'm leaving," I said sharply, cutting him off before my temper snapped.

I turned to the elders. "Everyone, please enjoy the rest of your evening."

Gritte shot Damon an awkward glance and asked softly, "Did I say something wrong? I hope I didn't upset her."

Damon glared at me as if I were the one who had ruined the mood.

Before he could speak, I said flatly, "I have a date with my mate-to-be tonight, and I don't want to be late."