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.

His voice was unusually anxious.

“Blair, James is extremely drunk. His Alpha form is unstable—he needs someone to watch him.”

But I only replied lightly:

“If he’s drunk, let him sleep at your place.

If that doesn’t work, ask Aria whether she’s free.”

Heaven and earth knew—I said that entirely for his sake.

But the James who was supposedly too drunk to stand,

who should’ve collapsed into his beast form,

somehow managed to force himself home—

only to throw a cold face at me the moment he walked in.

He sat next to me, stiff and silent, pretending to watch TV.

That icy attitude appeared every day afterward,

right on schedule.

And yet strangely, he never once failed to come home.

Not a single day.

More than that—

for an entire week straight,

he had someone deliver 999 moon-roses to my office in the Clan Affairs building.

In the past, even a small charm from him would’ve made me rush to post a dozen updates, flaunting my joy.

But this time, no matter how often he refreshed the clan network,

he never saw even a single petal.

James seemed to have completely forgotten about “divorce” and “dissolving the bond.”

Meanwhile, I followed the clan lawyer’s advice

and simply waited quietly for the best opportunity.

“Ningning, where are you? Yes, we’re in Private Room No. 8—come quick!”

Lynn’s voice sounded through the mind-link.

I was heading to the private club to sing with her.

Walking through the dim corridor lit by moon-halo lamps,

I hadn’t yet found the right room

when someone pressed a hand on my shoulder from behind.

“Blair—how did you know I was here?”

Even in the sultry, ambiguous lighting,

the excitement and joy in James’s eyes were unmistakable.

His Alpha scent even warmed instantly upon seeing me.

“I told you I’d be back soon, didn’t I?

But since you’re here, perfect—come in and say hello.”

He practically half-dragged, half-held me into the room.

Aria was the first to come forward.

The moment she saw me, her smile faltered noticeably.

“Didn’t expect Blair-sis would come to a place like this.”

She playfully glared at James,

then swept her gaze over me with thinly veiled disdain.

“James-ge always says you’re fussy and shy.

See? I knew he was lying. Blair-sis is definitely not the silly kind of woman he described.”

In that moment,

I noticed the custom-made coat draped over her shoulders—

The exact coat I had gifted James for our anniversary last year.

Recently, I had asked him to wear it to accompany me to the Gu Family banquet.

He told me impatiently that the coat had been lost during a field mission.

All I had done was murmur, “That’s a pity.”

Yet the man acted like something in him snapped,

exploding with rage:

“It’s an ugly old coat! Of course I tossed it!

You interrogate me like a criminal!

Blair, should I take you to the healer right now and have your brain examined?

You really should fix that pig-brain of yours!”

At that moment, his Alpha suppression was unrestrained—

treating me not as a partner,

but as property.

James then dragged me toward his so-called “old friends,”

making me greet each of them one by one.

While the werewolves joked about him being “tightly controlled by his mate,”

James laughed contentedly,

his eyes glinting with the smugness only an Alpha felt

when surveying what he believed was his territory.

He stared at me—

as if I were still the little wolf cub who used to orbit around him.

When they began egging us on to sing a duet together,

Aria suddenly stepped forward and draped the coat over my shoulders.

She said sweetly,

“Blair-sis wore so little—I don’t want her to catch a cold.”

But I recognized it instantly.

The coat was the same anniversary gift I gave James.

The same one he claimed to have “lost.”

The same one I recently asked him to wear to accompany me to a banquet.

Seeing me wearing that coat—

James stiffened.

His breath hitched, even grew unsteady.

He grabbed my wrist, speaking carefully:

“On the last mission, the temperature dropped suddenly…

Aria didn’t bring anything warm…

So I… had no choice but to lend her my coat…”

I didn’t bother looking at him.

I simply continued replying to my friend’s message.

“Mhm? It’s just a coat.

Lending it to her—or even giving it away—doesn’t matter.”

And right at that moment,

Lynn sent a blurry side-profile photo with a single caption:

“Your ex-husband is here.”