As I stepped from the hall of the pack’s council after the day’s duties, I saw him waiting near the edge of the clearing. Moonlight glinted off his strong shoulders and tall, commanding form, every movement precise and controlled, as if sculpted by the forest itself. Even the wandering members passing by could not help but glance at him.

If it were any other day, I might have crossed the clearing toward him, letting him guide me beneath the trees where fewer eyes could see. But not today. Today, I wanted to pass by as if I had never seen him.

I moved toward the path leading from the council grounds, but Aldric’s long strides brought him beside me before I could disappear among the shadows. He did not mention the last incident. His voice was calm, steady, the low rumble of a wolf who had learned patience.

“It is Jason’s moon-day tonight,” he said simply. “He has invited the pack for a shared meal.”

I stopped, watching him in the soft moonlight. “Very well,” I replied.

We walked together in silence. The night air shifted, carrying a faint scent of jasmine. The subtle fragrance clung to Aldric, threading through his natural scent like an unseen tether.

On impulse, I asked, “Do you like jasmine?”

His amber eyes flickered for a moment, betraying a shadow of thought. “It is… tolerable,” he said.

I tightened my jaw and thought, Then why have I always sensed it on you before? Why does it linger in your mindlink with her? I said nothing more.

When we arrived at the glade where Jason’s gathering was held, I could see Rowena and the others waiting. Her eyes widened slightly at our approach, a flicker of surprise in her gaze.

“Good evening, Aldric, Seraphine. We have waited for you,” she greeted, her voice smooth but measured.

I inclined my head lightly at Jason. “Forgive me. I arrived in haste and brought nothing.”

Jason smiled. “I already gifted him what was needed. There is no cause for apology.”

Aldric led me to the circle of seating. The remaining places were set directly opposite one another. I knew it was deliberate.

I released his hand and moved to the seat across from him. Aldric’s expression shifted for a heartbeat, a subtle tightening around his amber eyes, but he said nothing. He lowered himself beside Rowena, leaving a deliberate space between us.

I understood the unspoken judgment in the pack. They had never truly welcomed me. I had once tried, offering careful gifts, performing rites of respect for each festival, each moon-cycle. But the gestures were hollow to them, never fully accepted, never acknowledged from the heart. I had been blind to the truth until now.

I did not speak. I ate quietly, tasting the food but finding no warmth in it.

Aldric, however, moved with ease among them. He peeled the small river shrimp carefully, placing them before Rowena, his hands steady, precise. He usually scorned the effort, letting others serve him, finding such work tedious. But here, tonight, he made no complaint. He cleaned his hands afterward, a slow, deliberate gesture of care.

I felt the ache deep in my chest. I had chosen to let him go, but seeing such tenderness directed at her struck through me.

Jason noticed too, nudging Aldric lightly. “Do not favor one over another. Surely she deserves some.”

Aldric’s gaze shifted to me for the first time that evening. His brows drew together, and he spoke, “Fetch another plate.”

“No.” My voice was calm, steady. “I do not eat shrimp.”

“Then perhaps fish?”

“I do not like it.”

“And chicken?”

“Neither,” I said.

He looked at me, surprise flickering across his expression. Not a single hesitation. I met his gaze, took a linen napkin from the table, wiped my lips, and said softly, “I do not wish for anything you offer.”

“Seraphine, are you angry?” Rowena asked cautiously. “Why not eat some shrimp? Please, do not be upset with Aldric.”

I merely lifted my chin, letting the silence answer. The moon above watched silently as the pack gathered, as bonds were tested, and as the space between us grew wider than any path in the forest.

Her timid glance made me feel as though the world were judging me, though in truth, I bore no blame.

“How could I be angry?” I said softly, my voice steady but cool. “Please, enjoy your meal. I have matters to attend to in the den. I shall take my leave.”

With a calm smile, I gathered my satchel of belongings, ready to depart the gathering.

Jason’s voice, sharp with provocation, called out deliberately, “Still sulking over the moonfire I set off for Rowena?”

The mention of it made Rowena speak quickly, her tone light but measured, like a wolf circling carefully. “Seraphine, I—my mood was ill that evening. Aldric only wished to ease it with some moonfire. Aldric, you should offer your apology to Seraphine.”

Aldric’s amber eyes darkened, brows drawing together. “I merely set off the moonfire. Why should I apologize?”

The words fell like frost across the clearing. Silence pressed on the pack, tense as taut leather.

Rowena’s eyes flicked toward me, her smile subtle, claiming her possession in a way that words could not. It was laughable. The one who had caused the sting was blind to his own fault, as always. He believed he could soothe the wound with a gesture, as though it were nothing, and life would move forward.

I smiled, cold and precise. “Yes, you are correct. The moonfire was spectacular. Perhaps you should continue with such displays in the future.”

With that, I left, not turning back.

As soon as the den’s door closed behind me, I heard Rowena’s voice drift on the wind. “Aldric, go. Apologize at once. Seraphine is clearly angry.”

“Do not trouble yourself over her,” Aldric replied, calm as ever. “She will be fine in a few days.”

His words were blades against my chest. What had I done to earn such certainty from him?

I walked slowly through the streets under the early autumn sky. The cool breeze carried the scents of the pack, the forest beyond, and the faint remnants of the city’s warmth. Couples passed by, nuzzling and leaning close, their closeness a pang in my chest. Before Rowena came into his life, Aldric and I had been like them—hands locked, hearts tethered as tightly as two wolves bound by matebond. So why had it unraveled so completely?

I felt the weight of the night press against my ribs, shallow breaths catching in my throat. Passing a small food stall, I paused. An old habit drew me to it. I chose an icy treat, something to cool the fire in my chest.

The first bite was strange—salty, bitter, and hollow. Then I remembered his voice in the back of my mind, carried by the moonstone: “You know ice chills your stomach, yet you cannot resist it.”

I looked down at the treat, noticing tears streaking its surface. No wonder the taste was off. I wiped my eyes with the sleeve of my cloak, turning to make my way back to my small den.

The moonstone shimmered faintly in the corner as I arrived home. A pulse of thought, Aldric’s mindlink, reached me: “Have you returned?”

I ignored it. Soon another followed, soft and insistent: “The gathering was soured today. Let us invite them again on another night.”

I remained silent, letting the thoughts pass. Finally, his patience faltered, and I could sense the approach of his presence reaching for me through the moonstone. I set it aside, letting the connection fade into stillness.

After washing, I settled into the quiet of my den, my paws brushing over the soft fur of blankets. My eyes fell upon a sudden vision in the mindlink—a fleeting glimpse from Rowena. She leaned against him, resting close, her eyes shy yet claiming him entirely.

A caption, clear as thought in the mindlink, pulsed softly: “It seems I remain your first choice, even after so many seasons.”

I let a small, self-mocking smile curl at my lips and sent a simple thought back, sharp and final: “Congratulations.”