Harper's POV

I had been looking forward to this day for weeks—my birthday. Otis had promised to come home early, to make it special. But by mid-afternoon, that promise shattered with a single phone call. An unexpected engagement, he said, and he'd be late. Disappointment gnawed at me, but I held onto hope, convincing myself that we'd still celebrate when he got back.

As the hours dragged on, the walls of our home seemed to close in around me. Restless, I decided to go for a walk, to clear my mind. I wandered through the village, letting the cool evening air calm my nerves. That’s when I overheard them—two girls chatting excitedly by the marketplace.

"The couple by the riverside was so sweet! Did you see how he bought her a cake? I'm so envious!" one gushed.

"Yeah, but it’s odd. I couldn’t smell his scent on her. They’re both of age, right? Shouldn’t they be mated by now? And from the looks of it, he’s definitely a possessive wolf," the other replied, her voice tinged with curiosity.

My heart lurched. The words twisted like a knife in my gut as my wolf, restless and agitated, growled in the back of my mind. Go to the riverside, she urged, her voice laced with suspicion. Something’s not right.

Reluctantly, I obeyed, my footsteps quickening as I made my way to the river. A part of me already knew what I’d find, but I needed to see it with my own eyes.

And there they were. Otis and Novaria, sitting on a bench by the river, the moonlight casting a silver glow over them. She was leaning against his shoulder, a cake nestled in her lap, and they were laughing—he was laughing. It was a sight that made my blood run cold.

Otis, who was always so distant, so cold with me, now wore an expression I’d never seen before. His eyes were soft, filled with warmth and affection as he looked at her. I stood frozen, the bitter sting of betrayal anchoring me to the spot.

This was the side of him I had never been privileged to see. I had always believed him to be incapable of expressing affection, convincing myself that it was just who he was. But now, seeing him like this, I realized I had been a fool.

My breath hitched as I mind-linked him, my voice trembling with the effort to remain calm. “Where are you?” I asked, though I already knew the answer.

Otis answered quickly, his tone as cold and distant as always. “I’m doing something important. What’s the matter?” He excused himself from Novaria, walking a few steps away from her, but not far enough to conceal the truth.

The calmness in his voice was almost impressive, a testament to how skilled he had become at lying. How long had he been doing this? And how many times had I been naive enough to believe him?

I swallowed hard, steeling myself for what I was about to do. “Let’s break our bond,” I said, my voice flat and devoid of emotion.

I saw him frown in irritation, his lips curling into a sneer. “You’re making a fuss again,” he snapped.

I let out a bitter laugh, the sound hollow in the night air. “Next time, don’t flaunt your relationship if you don’t want me to hear about it.”

With that, I cut our mind-link and blocked him. I didn’t care to see his reaction. The bond between us had already been poisoned, and I wasn’t going to let it fester any longer.

When I got home, the sight of the table set for two, the dishes I had carefully prepared, filled me with a sense of emptiness. I packed everything away, my movements mechanical as I numbly went through the motions. There was no point in staying here any longer.

I packed my belongings and shifted into my wolf form, sprinting through the forest under the cover of night. Not long after, the familiar scents and sounds of the White Fang Pack territory filled my senses, and for the first time in a long while, I felt a semblance of peace.

How I miss this pack. I hadn't visited my pack ever since I found out Otis was my mate.

Back then, he always said that we were too far apart from each other, and he couldn't take the longing he felt, so he asked me to move into his pack, the Gravetooth Canines Pack.

Back in my original pack, I decided to keep my return a secret, staying in a small house on the outskirts. It was better this way, at least for now.

The next morning, my phone buzzed with a few messages from Otis.

Otis: [What's the matter with you now?]

Otis: [Come back when you've calmed down. Don't be too willful.]

He must have realized I was gone when he returned last night. But he was still treating it like every other argument, assuming I’d come back, tail between my legs, ready to forgive him like I always did.

But this time was different. I was different.

For years, I had put up with his excuses, his indifference. I had endured the sight of him running to Novaria’s side whenever she called, the lingering scent of roses he’d send me afterward as if that could ever make up for the way he abandoned me.

But I was done. This was the last time I’d let him hurt me.

As I stared at the screen, my resolve hardened. I didn’t respond to his messages. Instead, I deleted them, one by one, until there was nothing left of him on my phone—just as there would soon be nothing left of him in my heart.

Harper's POV

As I approached my house, the last thing I expected was to see him there—Otis, standing rigidly outside, dressed in a suit that clung to his tall, muscular frame. His handsome face drew the attention of every wolf that passed by.

On any other day, I might have felt a twinge of possessiveness, marching up to him and demanding he leave to keep the prying eyes at bay. But today, all I wanted was to pretend he didn’t exist.

I tried to walk past him, heading straight for my door, but Otis was quicker, falling into step beside me. His voice was calm, almost indifferent, as he spoke. “It’s Jovan’s birthday today. He invited us to dinner.”

Jovan. Of course. He was Otis’s friend, and I didn’t want to drag anyone else into our issues, so I stopped and met Otis’s gaze. “Fine,” I replied, keeping my voice neutral.

The silence between us on the way back to his pack was suffocating. The wind carried a faint scent of jasmine, a scent that was unmistakably Novaria’s. It wasn’t unpleasant, but it gnawed at me, a constant reminder of her presence in his life.

On a whim, I broke the silence. “Do you like the smell of jasmine?”

Otis’s eyes flickered briefly. “It’s fine,” he answered, his tone casual.

Just fine. The words echoed in my mind, stirring up a whirlwind of unasked questions. If it was just fine, then why did I always smell it on him? But I kept my thoughts to myself, unwilling to start a conversation that would only lead to more frustration.

When we arrived at the restaurant, I noticed they were already waiting for us. Novaria’s expression betrayed her surprise at seeing us together. “Good evening, Otis, Harper. We’ve been waiting for you for a while,” she greeted us, her voice laced with something I couldn’t quite place.

I forced a polite smile and turned to Jovan. “I’m sorry I didn’t bring a gift. I came in a hurry.”

Before Jovan could respond, Otis cut in smoothly, “I’ve already given him a gift. Don’t worry about it.” He guided me to the table, where two empty seats awaited us—directly opposite each other. Whether it was intentional or not, I couldn’t tell. But I didn’t hesitate to let go of his hand and take the seat across from him.

Otis’s expression tightened slightly, but he said nothing, choosing to sit beside Novaria instead. I could feel the weight of the unspoken judgments in the air. His friends had never approved of our bond, and their coldness toward me had always been palpable.

In the beginning, I had tried to win them over, offering carefully selected gifts for every holiday. But those gifts had always been met with lukewarm smiles, never used, and likely discarded without a second thought. It was only now, looking back, that I realized how naive I had been.

As I picked at my food, the conversation around the table flowed easily—too easily. Otis, usually so aloof, was in his element, peeling shrimp with a skill I had never seen him use before. He moved the plate of shrimp in front of Novaria, who smiled appreciatively. I watched as he wiped his hands meticulously with a wet wipe, the care he took with her a stark contrast to the indifference he had always shown me.

This was a side of Otis I had never experienced. A side that made my heart ache with a mixture of sadness and resignation.

Jovan, ever the observant one, noticed my silence. He nudged Otis with a teasing grin. “Don’t just favor one person. Peel some shrimp for your mate too.”

It was only then that Otis seemed to realize the situation. He glanced at the empty plate in front of me and said, “Order another plate.”

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

Otis looked slightly taken aback. “What about fish then?”

“I don’t like it.”

His brow furrowed in confusion. “Chicken?”

“I don’t like it either,” I said, my voice calm but firm. The surprise in his eyes was almost amusing, as if he couldn’t comprehend that I could reject something so easily.

Meeting his gaze, I wiped my mouth with a napkin, adding, “I don’t like anything you mentioned.”

The tension at the table was palpable. Novaria, ever the peacemaker, or so they thought, spoke up hesitantly. “Harper, are you angry? Please don’t be upset with Otis. You can have this if you want," she offered, pushing her plate full of peeled shrimp toward me.

Harper's POV

Novaria’s timid expression painted me as the villain in this twisted play. I could see it in the way she looked at me as if I were the unreasonable one.

“How could I possibly be angry?” I replied, my voice smooth and controlled, masking the storm inside. “Please, enjoy your meal. I just remembered I have some unfinished work to take care of.”

With a serene smile, I picked up my bag, making a move to leave.

“Come on, are you still upset about Otis giving Nova a cake?” Jovan’s voice cut through the air, dripping with deliberate provocation. His gaze met mine, challenging, almost daring me to react.

So, Otis had shared that with them, had he?

As if on cue, Novaria chimed in, her voice dripping with false sincerity. “I’m sorry, Harper. I was just feeling down, and Otis was trying to cheer me up. Otis, you should apologize to Harper.”

Otis frowned, clearly annoyed. “I just gave you a cake, Nova. Why should I apologize?”

His words sent a chill through the room, freezing the atmosphere in an instant. Novaria smiled subtly, a gesture that didn’t escape my notice. It was a silent declaration, a claim on what she believed was hers.

It was almost laughable—the person who had wronged me had no idea he was in the wrong. Otis never realized his own faults, just like before. He believed he could smooth things over with a few empty words, that I would simply let it slide and move on.

I returned his gaze with a smile. “Yes, you’re right. Keep it up next time.”

Without another word, I turned and left, not bothering to look back.

As I walked away, I overheard Novaria’s voice, laced with mock concern. “Otis, go apologize quickly. Harper is obviously angry.”

“Don’t worry about her. She’ll be fine in a few days.” His words cut through me like a blade, sharp and unforgiving.

What had I done to make him so confident that I would always come back, no matter how many times he hurt me?

I continued walking, my steps slow and heavy, the cool breeze of the early autumn night doing little to ease the suffocation I felt inside. The streets were bustling with life, mates walking hand in hand, their laughter and affection genuine and enviable.

Once upon a time, Otis and I were just like them, inseparable, holding onto each other as if our lives depended on it. But now, all that was left were memories, fading like the warmth of summer as the chill of autumn set in.

My breath hitched, the weight of it all pressing down on me. I caught sight of a skewer stall and, on impulse, decided to buy one. The smell of grilled meat used to comfort me, but as I took a bite, the taste was overwhelming—far too salty.

“This skewer tastes off,” I mumbled to the vendor, my voice trembling with unspoken emotions.

The vendor looked at me, sympathy in his eyes, and handed me a tissue. “Miss, maybe you should wipe your tears first.”

I blinked, realizing that my vision was blurred, my tears silently falling onto the skewer, making it unbearably salty. No wonder it tasted so wrong.

I sniffed, wiping my eyes, and turned away, heading home with a heavy heart.

As soon as I walked through the door, my phone buzzed with a message from Otis:

Otis: [Why am I blocked on our mindlink? Anyway, have you arrived home?]

I stared at the screen, my heart aching, but I didn’t reply. Another message came through moments later:

Otis: [Everyone didn't enjoy the meal because of you today. Let's invite them to dinner another day.]

Still, I remained silent, my fingers hovering over the screen before I set the phone down.

Minutes passed before my phone rang, Otis’s name flashing across the screen. I let it ring, ignoring the call, letting the sound echo in the quiet of my home.

By the time I returned from washing up, the phone was silent, as if it had given up on trying to reach me.