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.

Harper's POV

The next day, after getting ready, I decided to head to the market to buy some groceries. But as I opened the door, I froze. A neatly wrapped breakfast sat on the ground, an unwelcome reminder of the person who refused to leave me alone.

It wasn’t hard to guess who had placed it there. Otis. Again.

I picked up the breakfast with a sigh, heading downstairs. As I passed by the trash can, I didn’t hesitate to toss it in. I wasn’t hungry for his empty gestures.

But as I looked up, I saw him—Otis, standing right in front of me, his expression dark and brooding. His presence was like a storm cloud hanging over my day.

He was here again. How I wished the guards would stop letting him through. But as long as our bond remained, it was impossible to keep him away.

"You threw away the breakfast I bought for you," he said, his voice tinged with displeasure and a flicker of anger. His deep orange eyes bore into me, searching for a reaction.

"I told you," I replied coolly, "I don’t like what you say or what you give."

I tried to walk past him, but his hand shot out, gripping my arm. “Harper, are you still in a mood?”

"Am I in a mood?" I echoed, meeting his gaze with icy calm. "Didn’t you always dismiss me like this before? Always thought I was just being temperamental?"

Otis had a serious stomach condition, something the pack healer constantly warned him about. To help, I’d spent hours learning to prepare the perfect nutritious meals for him. I’d hoped to ease his discomfort, to show him how much I cared. But none of those meals ever touched his lips.

If I hadn’t accidentally seen him giving those meals to Novaria, I would’ve been none the wiser, still blindly making them for him, thinking I was helping.

Otis hesitated, his silence betraying him. Finally, he said, “She’s physically weak. She needs the nutritious meals more than I do.”

"Really?" I scoffed, my voice dripping with sarcasm. "One with a stomach problem, the other physically weak—you two are quite a match."

I had no more time to waste on him. Shaking off his hand, I walked away, my heart hardening with each step.

I focused on the more important things in my life, ignoring the barrage of messages he sent. Every gift, every meal he tried to send my way—I returned them unopened, untouched.

When my old friends found out I had returned, they invited me out, and I didn’t hesitate. I laughed, I danced, I did whatever I wanted. Without Otis and Novaria hanging over me like a dark cloud, my troubles were reduced to a fraction of what they were before. What remained was the pure, simple joy of being alone, of being free.

But just as I was beginning to forget they even existed, my phone buzzed. It was Jovan.

“Harper, when are you coming? We’re all waiting here, just missing you.”

I frowned, confused. “Waiting for me? Why?”

“Isn’t it you and Otis who are treating us to dinner? Hurry up and get here. We’re waiting for you.”

He hung up before I could respond, sending me an address immediately after.

For a moment, I stood there, torn between the desire to move on and the need to confront this lingering pain. Maybe it was time to clarify things once and for all, to take a clean break.

I shifted into my wolf form, sprinting towards the Gravetooth Canines Pack. The wind rushed past me, the world blurring as I ran. The guards at the border recognized my scent and let me through without a word. Following the address Jovan sent, I found myself standing in front of a shop I’d once mentioned to Otis.

I’d wanted to try this place for ages, curious if the food was as good as the rumors. But Otis always claimed he was too busy, so I never got the chance to come.

Pushing open the door, I spotted Jovan’s seat, but before I could step inside, his voice reached my ears.

"Harper has quite the temper, doesn’t she? We had to call her again and again before she finally agreed to come. Otis has humbled himself, yet she still won’t give him the time of day. She’s really spoiled."

They hadn’t caught my scent yet. Novaria’s soft chuckle followed, laced with that infuriating sweetness she always used. "Girls are like that—a bit of a temper is normal. Harper’s just too insecure and doesn’t quite trust Otis. She’ll come around eventually."

"In my opinion, you and Otis are a better match," Jovan continued. "If only he didn't encounter Harper, you’d be the one by Otis’s side now."

Something inside me snapped. The pieces of the puzzle finally clicked into place. So Otis had feelings for Novaria all along. My suspicions were right.

No wonder he was so unconditionally tolerant of her. She wasn’t just a friend—she was the one he truly wanted, the one he adored.

Jus then, Otis’s voice came from behind me. “Go on in. Don’t just stand there.”

I turned to face him, clutching my bag tightly, my heart pounding in my chest. “What do you want me to go in for? To hear you announce your new romance?”