“Yara, I want to dissolve the mate bond. Prepare a purification-and-departure scroll according to werewolf tradition.”

When those words left my lips, I didn’t even tremble. After five years of a hidden marriage with Henry, I finally understood that he had never loved me.

I decided to keep it from him. On the night of our fifth-year moon ceremony, I would give him this dissolution scroll as a “gift.”

Since phones were replaced by clan messenger wolves inside the territory, Yara answered through the mind-link.

She was startled. “Aurora, have you really thought this through? A five-year mate imprint isn’t something you can just tear apart.”

I lifted my head, my voice far calmer than I expected. “I’ve thought it through. This bond was a mistake from the beginning. I don’t want to continue.”

And the reason I reached this point… was what happened two months ago.

That day, while patrolling the forest outside the territory, I was attacked by a feral rogue wolf. Three deep slashes. I collapsed at the entrance of the Moonstone Healing Hall, waiting for Henry’s signature imprint to authorize treatment.

For a moment, I truly believed he would come rushing to me like he used to.

But I waited… and waited. Neither Henry nor his first love, Demi, appeared.

I activated the mind-link and called for him ninety-nine times.

When he finally answered, all I heard was his impatient voice:

“Demi’s pup is sick. I’m taking care of her. Don’t call me unless it’s important.”

My chest turned to ice.

Before I lost consciousness, I pressed my own blood-stained fingerprint on the scroll to approve my treatment.

Just before the Moonstone Hall lit its healing array, I saw Henry finally running over—holding Demi’s pup in his arms, the little thing’s paw lightly bitten, a faint redness on its knuckles.

I later learned that because Henry had pulled my healer away to tend to Demi’s pup, I lost too much blood during treatment and had to be kept in a deep-recovery chamber for seven full days.

The cruelest part was realizing he had loved Demi all along.

He married me not out of love, but because of that drunken, accidental imprinting five years ago.

While I hovered between life and death, he was comforting another she-wolf—younger, pampered, raised in affection.

The mate I once fought desperately to protect… had changed beyond recognition.

Ending the bond is the last gift I will ever give him.

……

Just as I received the dissolution scroll, my mind-link was suddenly forced open.

The initiator was Henry.

I drew in a slow breath and accepted the connection. His voice carried the same commanding tone as always.

“Aurora, I’m hosting a few warriors at the camp banquet tonight. Prepare some food and count it as celebrating for me. And go down to the river to catch a moon-scale fish for steaming.”

He didn’t ask where I was. He didn’t ask if I was available.

I stayed silent. He seemed instantly irritated, his voice tightening with impatience.

“You’re not still upset, are you? Aurora, I already apologized for the last incident. Demi isn’t like you—she’s delicate and can’t withstand pain. And that night, you were the only ‘healer’ around.”

My knuckles curled sharply.

“The last incident” was him referring to the night I was slashed by a rogue wolf, bleeding out at the healing hall’s entrance while waiting for him—only for him to run in later hugging Demi’s pup and searching for a healer for them instead.

Henry kept talking, every word cutting deeper.

“I knew you’d be fine. You grew up tough. A little injury is nothing to you.”

I froze.

In his eyes, the wounds that kept me in the recovery chamber for seven days were “a little injury.”

I pressed my lips together, forcing myself to stay clear. I couldn’t keep wasting emotions on someone who would never feel pain for me.

Henry was used to my silence and obedience. When I didn’t argue back, he simply assumed I wouldn’t hold anything against him, and casually cut off the mind-link.

Standing on the high slope overlooking the river, I saw him immediately bend down after severing the connection, gently lifting Demi’s hand and blowing on her slightly reddened knuckles, as though she were treasure.

I lowered my gaze to my own hands—covered in scars.

Years of channeling healing energy had left my skin cracked and rough.

And in that instant, I understood: in his heart, I didn’t even qualify to be cherished.

Yet back then, I still naïvely believed we could talk things through.

So I turned and headed to the river to catch the moon-scale fish Henry wanted.

That night, my legs nearly gave out as I worked at the stone stove outside the tent.

Then Henry appeared behind me, holding a massive bouquet of moonlit lilies.

As the flowers drew near, I couldn’t stop myself from coughing softly.

The next second, he shoved me hard.

My back slammed into the stone table. The wound that had just begun to heal tore open again, blood soaking through my clothes.

I could barely stay upright, yet Henry’s attention was entirely on the flowers in his arms.

He frowned at me, scolding, “These flowers are from Demi. She cultivated them specially for you! You almost ruined them!”

I stared at the way he cherished the flowers far more than he had ever cared for me.

And just like that—clarity struck me.

Three years together, and he had never once remembered my pollen allergy.

He remembered only what Demi liked.

As I braced myself on the table and pushed up to stand, a sudden weight dropped onto my shoulder.

Demi had arrived, conveniently “helping” me.

But her fingers dug viciously into the inside of my arm, the force nearly driving me to my knees.

Her face, however, was soft, gentle, harmless. “Aurora, be careful. Your body hasn’t recovered yet.”

Her grip tightened like a creeping vine, digging deeper and deeper until pain clawed up my spine.

Henry saw me swaying and only frowned. “Aurora, why are you so weak? Stop pretending.”

Hearing that, Demi smiled even sweeter. Her fingers needled in a little harder, leaving fire streaking under my skin.

I finally wrenched myself free, clutching the rough wooden table as I staggered toward the fur-covered bench, fumbling for a pouch of moon-leaf pain powder.

My fingers trembled uncontrollably.

Henry watched my humiliation with a cold voice.

“Did you just come back from the healing tent, or were you fighting outside wolves?”

Demi chimed in gently, sugary sweet. “Henry, don’t be harsh on her. And… weren’t you going to cook dinner for me? I’ve been waiting forever.”

Then she naturally slipped her arm around his.

Henry immediately followed her lead. “Alright, I am coming.”

He did not ask if I was in pain.

From the kitchen came the sound of iron pots striking fire stones. Demi sat at the long table, sipping berry juice while watching me, as if enjoying the sight of prey struggling.

She tapped her cup. “Aurora, are you jealous or something?”

Their laughter filled the air.

And I, the so-called mate, could only sit beneath the flickering firelight like some forgotten object buried in the clan house.

My hand paused on the medicine bottle.

Seeing my silence, Demi added with syrupy sweetness, “Do not worry. With me taking care of Henry, you actually get to relax. You are so weak that even I feel sorry for you.”

When she said “sorry,” there was open mockery in her eyes.

I slowly lifted my head and met her overly gentle smile.

For the first time, I did not endure it. I did not stay silent.

I simply said, softly, “Demi, you used too much force.”

She froze for half a second, then smiled even more sweetly. “Aurora, did you misunderstand me? I have only ever helped you.”

My forearm still throbbed, the tips of my fingers pale from pain. I did not continue the argument. I lowered my gaze and swallowed the moon-leaf powder little by little.

The firepit was filled with the scent of spice. It was the smell of Henry cooking for her.

What used to belong to him and me now belonged to the two of them.

I sat on the long bench, listening to their laughter drifting from the kitchen. The sound of ladles against iron, Demi’s soft giggles, Henry’s gentle replies.

At that moment, I felt like a forgotten shadow.

Once they had eaten, played drinking dice games, and flirted with each other, I sat in the corner of the kitchen and ate the cold leftovers.

I had barely sat down when Demi’s honeyed voice sounded behind me.

“Aurora, why are you not joining us?”

She laughed at her own words, and the nearby patrol wolves echoed her amusement.

My recovered eyesight was clear enough to see the contempt on every one of their faces.

My pride tore apart. My chest tightened. I pressed down the trembling in my voice.

“Demi, apologize to me.”

Henry spoke first, impatient and irritated. He slapped away the hand I had pointed toward Demi, the movement rough, as if swatting aside a bothersome stray.

The wooden cup on the table fell to the ground and shattered into pieces.

“Aurora, can you stop taking everything so seriously? If you do not want to be here, then leave.”

It felt like a heavy blow to my chest.

I tore off my apron and threw it to the ground, then pushed the door open and walked out.

The wooden door slammed behind me, as if cutting the last thread of dignity I had left.

Outside, the night wind was cold. Cold enough to clear every illusion I had left.

But only a few seconds passed before the door was pushed open again.

Henry walked out with Demi in his arms, looking smug and satisfied, as if he had always known I would wait for him.

He raised his brows at his companions, almost boasting. “See? I told you she would be standing here waiting.”

My throat tightened painfully. Tears threatened despite everything.

I spoke quietly. “When you come back, I have something to tell you.”

He brushed past me with a wave of his hand, cold and casual, like speaking to a wooden carving that always stayed where it was placed.

“Aurora, I heard you.”

I waited on the wooden steps of the clan house until he returned.

The moment he stepped inside, I placed the dissolution scroll on the table.

“Henry, this is an agreement. Please place your imprint on it.”

He paused. For the first time, he truly looked at me.

A faint crease formed between his brows, as if he finally sensed that something was wrong.

He was not used to me speaking to him like this.

When it was just the two of us, I never spoke so formally.

I never called him “Henry.”

But tonight, I created distance on purpose.

He frowned, his tone holding an unusual restraint. “You just came back from the Moonstone Healing Hall. You should be resting.”

He sounded as if he was being considerate, but that casual, automatic tone made every word feel sharp.

Even so, he reached for the scroll. Just as his fingers were about to touch the cover, the communication stone at his waist lit up.

His movement stopped.

I glimpsed the note on the glowing sigil.

“Demi sweetheart”.

In his communication stone, my name was always a cold, distant Aurora.

So this was the difference between love and indifference. It really was that clear.

Henry clearly thought that the call was more important than I was. He accepted it immediately, lowering his voice, though I heard everything with perfect clarity.

“Demi, I will come right now.”

I watched him pick up the bouquet of moonlit lilies, the flowers that made me allergic yet were so precious to him.

He never asked if I was well enough to be left alone.

“I am not coming back for dinner.”

Then he tossed out a careless command. “Handle it yourself.”

He finished speaking and moved to leave.

I inhaled deeply, stepped forward, blocked his path, flipped the scroll to the last page, and placed the sharpened pen in his hand.

“Sign this first.”

Henry paused, as if he had not expected me to interrupt him.

His brows drew together as he prepared to open the scroll from the beginning and read it thoroughly. He had always been cautious. Even a leave request for a hunt had to be examined in full.

But at that moment, the communication stone vibrated again.

The glowing sigil displayed the name he could never let go of.

From the other side came a voice soft as honey. “Henry, why are you not here yet? I have been waiting so long.”

A chill spread through my entire body.

Henry hesitated for three seconds.

Three seconds later, he abandoned the idea of reading anything.

All that carefulness he always carried vanished completely.

He signed his name on the last page.

It was like he was signing a clan duty slip.

Once done, he flicked his wrist and set the pen down without care.

“Is this enough? Can I go?”

He did not even ask why I wanted to dissolve the mate bond.

I stared at that cold signature and nodded slowly. “It is enough.”

I gave him the freedom he wanted.

Before turning away, he still reminded me, “Since you will not be around, no one will be cleaning the camp house. Remember to tidy up.”

The sound of the door closing fell heavily, locking away both me and the marriage of the past five years.

I had always known that the one living in Henry’s heart was not me, but his first love, Demi.

All those years in the training camp, I had loved him quietly through an entire youth.

His gaze had always followed her. I could only watch his back.

That year, Demi was suddenly chosen by an allied clan to study abroad. It left Henry completely unprepared.

That night, he drank himself senseless and called me through the mind-link on the stormy ridge.

“Aurora... can you come here? I feel terrible.”

His voice was wet and trembling like rain.

When I arrived, he looked like he had been abandoned by the world, crouching in the cold wind with his head buried in his arms.

A moment later, he reached out and pulled me into his arms, pressing all his exhaustion and loneliness onto my shoulders.

I knew he was too drunk to recognize who I was. I knew the person he wanted to hold was never me.

But I still held him tightly.

That night was the only time I ever approached him as someone he needed.

The moments I mistook for affection now felt like illusions I created to deceive myself.

I came back to my senses, went upstairs, and walked into the wardrobe room to pack my things.

When I opened the wooden closet, I froze.

It was almost empty.

Hanging inside were only a few ceremonial outfits his mother had gifted me when I first married into Henry’s clan house.

Five years of being mates, and Henry had never bought me anything.

No nightwear. No scarves. No fur slippers.

I had prepared countless festival gifts for him over the years, chosen with care, yet he never truly looked at any of them. They were tossed into corners and left to gather dust.

As I gathered those gifts into a hide bag, intending to discard them, I saw the steward hauling away all the things I had written, sewn, and crafted with my own hands. He treated them as waste.

I watched the wagon carrying them away until it disappeared. A strange kind of desolation washed over me.

So my five years of love were not even worth scraps in another person’s eyes.

I drew a long breath, picked up my communication stone, and opened the mind-link to my father.

“Dad. You were right. I was the one who was wrong. I am willing to attend the arranged union one week from now.”