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.”

My father was silent for three seconds.

Then came his reaction, trembling with emotion, nearly losing his voice.

“Aurora, you are finally willing to come home.”

I gripped the communication stone, my chest tightening until it hurt.

He continued, his tone gentle, as if afraid I might break.

“All these years we sought so many outstanding werewolf families for you, but you refused to meet any of them. I thought you would never come back.”

“Child, we saw every hardship you endured.”

“You coming home is the greatest comfort to us.”

I closed my eyes, my voice rough. “Dad, I was wrong.”

My father drew a soft breath, his tone firm and reassuring.

“It is alright. It is never too late to turn back. I will come for you in one week.”

When the link disconnected, I finally realized something.

I was not unwanted.

I had simply trapped myself in the wrong place.

I was about to continue packing when Henry pushed the door open.

He did not expect me to have wiped my tears so quickly. Seeing the communication stone in my hand, he frowned.

“Who were you talking to?”

My heart tightened. I slipped the stone into my pocket and answered with a flat, steady tone.

“No one. I connected the wrong link.”

Henry clearly did not believe me. His frown deepened. As always, he stepped forward, intending to take my communication stone to check it himself.

I was about to step back when a fragile, trembling voice sounded from the doorway.

“Henry. I am scared. Why are you not coming?”

The voice was soft and shaky, yet sweetened on purpose.

Henry froze for a heartbeat, then moved toward the door as if pulled by a string.

I followed him out and saw the scene at the entrance. My chest tightened painfully.

Demi stood there with one finger pressed lightly to her lips, a faint red mark at the corner of her mouth. The kind of mark that looked more like something she bit herself.

Henry immediately took her hand, his brows knitting with concern. “What happened?”

Demi lowered her head like a frightened young creature. “Your clan house placed the marriage painting too low. I did not notice and bumped into it.”

I let out a soft, cold laugh.

The marriage painting had hung there for five years without hurting anyone.

What scratched her was not the frame.

It was me.

It was the image of me in that painting.

Henry looked toward the marriage painting on the wall with a flicker of irritation in his eyes.

“It is indeed placed unreasonably. Aurora, have someone take it down and put it in storage.”

Demi stood beside him, eyes lowered, unable to hide the faint upward curve at the corner of her lips.

As if telling me

He only cares about her.

I did not step away.

I looked up calmly. “The storage room is full. There is no space.”

Henry’s expression darkened instantly.

Demi pressed her fingers lightly, inhaling through her teeth. “Henry, it hurts.”

That barely visible scratch was treated by him as if she had been bitten by a wild beast.

The next moment, he spoke coldly.

“Then burn it.”

The air fell silent.

I froze for a moment, though I was not surprised.

The old me would have felt my heart tearing apart, unwilling to let go of that marriage painting.

But now, all I felt was relief.

I nodded. “Alright.”

Henry blinked, as if surprised that I agreed without hesitation.

He likely could not understand

that I no longer cared about the marriage painting or him.

I called for the servants and had the painting taken down. Then I carried it myself to the clan fire in the courtyard.

When the flames rose and swallowed it, I felt as if I had burned away all the humility and illusions of the past five years.