Every time he left me for Aria, he would return with a house full of moon-roses to soothe me.

And every time, I allowed myself to fall into that false tenderness, pretending nothing had happened.

But this time, I was truly tired.

That night, when I walked out of the Clan Affairs Tower after work, I saw him standing outside.

He wore a dark Alpha ceremonial uniform—broad-shouldered, long-legged, tall and imposing—his presence so commanding that many people turned to look.

Passing werewolves instinctively stepped aside from his aura.

That oppressive force was something only high-tier Alphas possessed.

If it were any other day, I might have walked up to him, urging him softly to get in the car so the clan wouldn’t stare.

But today, I simply wanted to pretend I didn’t see him.

I headed alone toward the Moon-Mark subway station.

It didn’t take long for James to catch up.

He didn’t mention my leaving, didn’t bring up the contract at all—he merely said, lightly:

“Tonight is Vito’s birthday feast. He invited us.”

I stopped walking and looked at him.

“Of course.”

We boarded his vehicle together.

The cabin was silent—so silent that even the faint ripples of the mind-link felt like winter wind, cold and biting.

A breeze slipped through the window seam, carrying the chill of night mixed with a faint jasmine scent.

Aria’s scent.

As an Omega, her natural fragrance was soft, soothing—something that instinctively pleased an Alpha.

It wasn’t overwhelming, just familiar enough to make my chest tighten with cold.

Casually, I asked, “Do you like the smell of jasmine?”

James’s eyes flickered ever so slightly—an involuntary emotional reaction common to Alphas.

“It’s fine,” he said flatly.

“Really?”

I laughed inwardly.

“Then why have you always carried that scent on you for the past few years?”

I didn’t press further.

In wolf-clan customs, scent transfer meant deep emotional closeness.

But he had never once explained it.

We arrived at the Moon-Mark Hotel where we were meeting.

Vito and Aria had clearly been waiting.

When Aria saw James and me appear side by side, she froze for a moment.

“Good evening, James… Blair. We’ve been waiting a while.”

Her voice was soft, tinged with the Omega’s natural gentleness and deference.

I smiled faintly, without warmth, and turned to Vito.

“Apologies. I came in a rush and didn’t prepare a gift.”

Vito had been James and Aria’s childhood companion—

the three of them had grown up together in the same training camp since they were pups.

James had brought me to their clan gatherings back when we first bonded,

which was how I became familiar with them at all.

“I sent one for you,” James said calmly.

Then he guided me toward the seating area.

Two seats were left—directly opposite each other.

Whether the arrangement was intentional or not, I no longer cared.

I released his hand and walked straight to the opposite seat.

James’s expression shifted slightly, but he said nothing.

He simply sat in the empty seat beside Aria.

His choice—guided by territory instincts—felt more like a declaration than etiquette.

I knew what his friends were thinking.

They had never approved of our mate contract,

and had always treated me with a polite, distant frost.

In the past, I had tried to fit into their circle, choosing thoughtful gifts for every holiday.

But those gifts were never used—

the packaging had never even been opened.

They had never considered me one of them.

Thinking back, those symbolic efforts felt laughably naïve.

I said nothing and quietly lowered my head to eat.

The table was lively, filled with fragrances and chatter,

yet I felt as if I were sitting alone on a distant island.

James chatted easily with them,

and while talking, he began peeling the Moon-Bay shrimp on his plate.

According to his habit, he never touched such sea-creature delicacies unless someone else peeled them for him.

Even then, he would only take a symbolic bite—

for a high-tier Alpha, peeling the shells himself was a bothersome task.

But now, he didn’t seem bothered at all.

He peeled the entire plate of shrimp with practiced ease, then pushed the glistening red meat toward Aria.

After that, he slowly picked up the cleansing towel and meticulously wiped his fingertips.

It was the most intimate etiquette an Alpha could offer when tending to an Omega.

And it was something I had never once received.

Seeing this, my chest tightened—just slightly, but enough.

I had already decided to let him go.

But witnessing him treat another with such tenderness…

that kind of pain still surged up uncontrollably, sharp as frostbite.

Vito clearly noticed too.

He glanced at my expression, then at James, nudging him deliberately with a teasing smirk.

“Don’t just take care of one person. Peel some for your mate too.”

James seemed to suddenly remember something.

He lowered his head, looked at the empty plate before me, and said,

“Order another serving.”

“No need,” I said calmly, taking a sip of my drink. “I don’t like shrimp.”

“What about grilled fish?”

“I don’t like the smell.”

James stared at the table, his brows narrowing slightly.

“And the roast moon-chicken?”

“I don’t like that either.”

He froze—clearly not expecting me to refuse so bluntly.

I lifted my gaze and met his eyes, my voice smooth yet edged like a blade.

“Anything you recommend, I don’t like.”

“Blair, are you upset?”

Aria asked softly, her Omega presence timid and fragile.

“Why aren’t you eating what James ordered for you? Please don’t be angry at him.”

Her careful tone made me seem like a bully picking on the weak.

“How could I be angry?” I smiled faintly.

“Please enjoy the meal. I suddenly remembered there’s work I haven’t finished, so I’ll take my leave.”

Maintaining perfect politeness, I picked up my bag and prepared to stand.

“Oh come on,” Vito drawled, voice full of mockery.

“You’re not seriously mad about James setting off fireworks for Aria, right? Such a small thing?”

The moment he brought up that night, Aria immediately lowered her eyes and spoke softly:

“I’m sorry, Blair. I wasn’t feeling well that day… James only wanted to comfort me.

James, you should apologize to her.”

James frowned.

“I only lit a few fireworks. Why should I apologize?”

The moment the words fell, the air around the table froze completely.

And in the angle James couldn’t see,

Aria lifted the corner of her lips ever so slightly.

A small, delicate smile—

the kind of smile only an Omega shows when quietly claiming territory.

As if telling me without a sound:

This Alpha is mine.

How laughable.

Those who commit wrongdoing are often the last to understand their fault.

And just like the countless times before,

James still didn’t see the real issue.

He always believed that if he soothed me with a few empty words,

I would remain silent, patient, obedient—

the compliant mate I had pretended to be.

Instead, I let out a soft laugh and said gently:

“You’re right.

Those moon-flame fireworks really were beautiful.

Next time, don’t forget to make the display even grander.”

My tone was soft—

yet sharp as a silver blade.

Before anyone could react,

the restaurant manager entered carrying several bottles of rare Silvermoon Wine.

“These are the bottles you and Miss Aria stored with us during your last visit.

Shall I open them for you now?”

The entire private room fell utterly silent.

The manager stood there awkwardly, unsure what to do.

So I spared him the embarrassment.

“Open them all,” I said lightly.

“No need to waste anything.”

With those words, I rose and walked out of the room.

James quickly followed, a rare trace of unease in his voice—

something high-tier Alphas almost never revealed.

“Blair, the company sealed a major deal recently.

Those wines were meant for the celebration.”

I waved a hand dismissively, not caring in the slightest,

and walked into the women’s restroom.

When I returned to the private room,

James was shielding Aria from the alcohol.

His hand covered hers around the glass,

blocking the Silvermoon Wine with a natural, practiced motion—

as if he had done it countless times before.

And that scene…

was far too familiar.

Two years ago, at almost the exact same type of banquet—

I, severely allergic to alcohol,

was pressured and taunted by a circle of male werewolves taking turns pushing drinks on me.

And back then, James didn’t stop them.

He didn’t shield me.

Instead, he watched with half-lidded eyes,

wearing the cold indifference and impatience unique to high-ranking Alphas.

Under the jeering gazes of the others, he pinned my shoulder down against the seat, trapping me in place.

One hand seized my chin, forcing my mouth open.

“It’s just a drink. Swallow it,” he said—

his tone flat, as if he were commanding an obedient beast.

“What are you afraid of? Worst case, I’ll take you to the healer afterward for a stomach cleanse.”

In that moment, I didn’t feel humiliation.

All I felt was cold.

A cold that seeped from the marrow outward.

That wasn’t love.

That was domination—

the habitual control of an Alpha accustomed to obedience.

That same night, after the banquet ended, my body began burning with fever.

Everything felt distant, blurred, as if fire had melted consciousness itself.

Two days later, I was rushed to the hospital with violent abdominal pain.

The healer’s diagnosis was icy and merciless.

There had been a one-month-old pup forming within me.

But due to the alcohol and the forcible stress,

the fetal vein had already collapsed on its own.

When James heard about my miscarriage,

he didn’t grieve.

He didn’t panic.

He didn’t feel guilt.

He stormed into the ward, furious.

Standing at my bedside, he bellowed:

“I told you not to go to that place, and you still insisted! Idiot!

This is what you get for showing off in front of those males!”

In his eyes, there wasn’t a shred of remorse.

Only irritation, anger, and blame.

Remembering that, I returned to my seat in the private room.

I didn’t look at anyone.

I picked up my bag, pushed my chair back without a word, and left.

Just as I closed the door behind me,

I heard Aria’s soft, anxious voice inside:

“James, go after her—apologize.

Blair is clearly upset.”

But James’s voice was cold—cold like iron in a winter night.

“Leave her. She’ll get over it in a few days.”

Every syllable sliced through me like a silver blade.

What had I done wrong—

to make him so certain

that my feelings would never leave him?

That no matter how deeply I hurt,

I would always return like a obedient little wolf at his heel?

James arrived at our territory residence one step after me, his entire body radiating Alpha fury so intense it tightened the air.

“Blair, are you insane?”

He roared as soon as he crossed the threshold, red light flickering in his irises.

“Leaving without a word?

You made that entire dinner awkward. Are you satisfied now?”

I said nothing.

I simply watched him quietly.

He tugged at his collar, letting out an impatient cold laugh.

“If you’re going to act this childish, then let’s just dissolve the mate contract.”

It was the second time James had suggested divorce—

or, in the wolf-clans’ terms, dissolving the Moon-Vow Bond.

The first time had been when he suspected I touched his communication stone.

Back then, I had no spine.

I had knelt at his feet, sobbing until I could hardly breathe,

swearing at the tip of his boot that I would never anger him again.

But now—

I simply lifted my gaze, met his eyes, and said quietly:

“Alright.”

The large living room fell into a frightening silence—

even the air seemed to freeze for half a minute.

James stared at me as if his hearing had betrayed him.

“Blair… what did you just say?”

“I said alright.”

My voice was calm—

calm like a windless night lake.

“We’re getting divorced.”

I rose from the sofa, ready to hand him the property division documents that the clan lawyer had drafted.

But before I could, James suddenly raised his voice, glaring at me with clenched teeth.

“You’re sure you want to dissolve our bond?

You’re really sure?”

I blinked, puzzled by his sudden agitation.

“A divorce… how could that be anything but real?”

James stared at me—

stared as if he were seeing me for the first time—

then abruptly let out a cold, ridiculing laugh.

“I didn’t think you had it in you to play hard-to-get.”

His eyebrow arched with mockery.

“But I’m not falling for that.”

With that, he slammed the door and strode out,

Alpha scent flaring with temper.

The silence he left behind was so complete

I could hear my heartbeat.

For the next half month, James never returned to our territory.

And I, in return, quietly moved my belongings out of the Alpha residence piece by piece,

as silently as the moon’s shadow moving across snow.

Until one late night,

I received a mind-link call from Elder Yuan.