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.

Because Demi had just returned to North Ridge from a foreign clan and was not used to staying alone in an outside camp, Henry naturally and smoothly invited her to live in our clan house.

And I, the supposed mistress of the home, was never asked for my opinion.

I stood at the top of the stairs, hearing his calm voice. “Demi, stay here for now. After a while, you will get used to it.”

She looked up at him, eyes slightly red, her voice so soft and fragile it could melt an entire tribe.

“But this is your and Aurora’s home. If I move in, will it not be too disturbing?”

Henry immediately wrapped an arm around her, his expression gentle enough to soften stone.

“It will not. Aurora has always been generous. She will not be upset over something so small.”

I stood on the staircase and did not step aside.

When I heard those words, I almost laughed.

Not upset.

Yes, the old me was indeed like that.

Humble, yielding, silent, retreating until there was nothing left of me but a shadow.

But that was already the past.

I walked down the stairs slowly, my voice steady as if speaking about someone else’s life.

“I will not be upset. Demi, you can stay here.”

Demi paused, surprised that I agreed so calmly.

A trace of unease flickered in her eyes, as if she could not guess what I was thinking.

Henry, however, assumed it was my usual obedience.

He instructed the servants to carry Demi’s luggage into the most spacious, brightest, newly furnished room in the house.

That room was the one he once said

“When we have a child, this will be their room.”

How ironic.

Now it had become the place where his favored she-wolf would stay.

I watched the luggage being moved in without saying a word.

Although there were servants in this house, it had always been me handling the cleaning and cooking.

Because Henry was demanding and picky, even the elders most skilled in the kitchen could not satisfy him.

Only the food I cooked, he would eat a few bites.

Yet no matter how much effort I put into it, he never once praised me, never once asked about it, never once remembered it.

It was as if my labor had always been meant to be taken for granted.

Demi stood at the doorway, her gaze lifted slightly toward me, carrying a faint and almost invisible triumph.

At that moment, I shook my head lightly and spoke the four words that stunned everyone.

“I cannot do it.”

Henry turned toward me immediately, instinctively drawn by the unfamiliar tone.

In his memory, I had never disobeyed anyone in his family.

This was the first time I had refused.

He was just about to speak when Demi’s eyes reddened, her lips trembling as she lowered her head.

“It is my fault. I should not have moved in. I am just an outsider. It is not right for Aurora to cook for me.”

She turned as if to go upstairs to pack her bags, but Henry grabbed her arm.

“This has nothing to do with you.”

I ignored him and brushed past.

I had only taken two steps when my vision went black. It felt as if all strength had been drained from my body, and I collapsed without warning.

When I woke again, I was lying on a wooden bed in the Moonstone Healing Hall.

The clan shaman pulled aside the curtain and entered, saying,

“Miss Aurora, you are three months pregnant.”

“What. Pregnant.”

The words escaped me without thought.

Seeing my disbelief, the shaman handed me the rune-carved bone diagnostic.

Pregnant for eight weeks. The carved text pierced me so sharply my breath stopped for a moment.

I braced against the bed and forced myself up, dragging my weakened body back to the clan house.

The diagnostic bone was clenched tightly in my hand, its edges pressing my fingertips until they turned pale.

The moment I pushed the door open, a strong mix of smoke and heavy perfume hit my chest, making it tighten.

In the living room, Henry lounged lazily on the fur sofa, his chest marked with unmistakable traces of intimacy.

Demi wore his clothes, the hem barely covering her thighs as she leaned against him with a soft laugh.

Her hair was messy, and the flush on her face had not faded.

One glance was enough to know what had just happened.