I'm about to get married under the witness of the Goddess of the Moon. However, Carl Erickson, my partner of ten years, doesn't know it yet.

Carl has recently hired a new assistant—Ivy Keating. Everyone in the wolf pack knows something amorous is going on between them; they frequently "discuss work" until the wee hours of the night.

A celebration that's supposed to be for our anniversary turns into Ivy's birthday celebration. Carl orders a ten-layer mango cream cake for the celebration—it's Ivy's favorite.

They get cream everywhere, but they've forgotten I'm seriously allergic to mangoes. A regular mango is as lethal to me as wolf venom is.

I'm taken away by an ambulance to be rescued, and I'm alone when I wake up. Carl is still at the party, celebrating Ivy's birthday.

My wolf growls unhappily, and my love for Carl dies. It's then that I agree to the marriage my family has arranged for me. I'm going to marry a true Alpha.

Mom wasted no time arranging the wedding.

I had just returned home from the hospital and barely had time to take off my shoes when she sent over a dozen wedding plans for me to choose from.

Scrolling through the options on my phone, I felt a swirl of emotions.

I didn't want to make any decisions.

As I hesitated, Mom called me directly.

"My dear Blaire, if Carl truly wanted to marry you, he wouldn't have delayed it for so many years. Everyone knows he's only using you to secure his position as the pack's leader. You deserve better. It's not too late to change your mind now.

"The marriage alliance with the Darknight Pack has been finalized, and I've prepared everything for the wedding. It's set for three days from now. Take your time packing; there's no rush."

Her tone was calm and commanding.

It turned out everything had been so obvious to everyone else all along. Meanwhile, I had been hopelessly ensnared by Carl Erickson's empty promises.

"Mom, just pick one for me. I like them all, but I prefer to keep the wedding simple."

At that moment, my mate, Carl, suddenly appeared behind me. Hearing the word "wedding," he immediately asked, "Wedding? What wedding?"

Then, he held my waist and tried to lean into the phone.

Startled, I quickly put it away.

Carl reached out to grab it from me, but his phone started ringing before he could. When he answered the call, I could hear a woman's delicate and distressed voice on the other end.

"Carl, I just left the office, and I think someone's following me! Do you think it's someone from a rival company? What should I do? I'm so scared! I've been circling the parking lot, but I can't shake him!"

Something primal seemed to awaken in Carl instantly. His eyes glimmered with urgency and anger as he replied, "Don't worry. Find somewhere safe. I'll be right there."

As soon as the call ended, any mention of the wedding had completely slipped from his mind. Once again, he left me without hesitation and rushed into the night to rescue his secretary.

What he failed to consider, however, was that in this pack where wealth determined everything, my parents' considerable fortune was the only reason he'd been able to claim the title of alpha.

After Carl left, I called Aunt Selma to tell her goodbye.

When my parents left the Moonstone Pack over a decade ago to pursue business opportunities elsewhere, they had entrusted me to Aunt Selma, who cared for me throughout my years in the pack.

Carl had lived next door, and that was how we'd met.

Years later, Aunt Selma had found her mate, got married, and sold her house to move away.

Not wanting to disrupt her new life, I'd stayed behind and moved in with Carl temporarily. Somehow, that temporary arrangement stretched into ten years.

When Aunt Selma heard about the wedding, she was stunned. "You're getting married? To Carl? Well, that's good. It's about time anyway. You've been together for ten years."

I pursed my lips and corrected her. "No, it's an arranged marriage. I don't even know who I'm marrying."

Aunt Selma fell silent momentarily before asking, "Are you sure about this? Carl is your mate, after all. And from what I've seen, he seems to care for you genuinely. I'm not sure why he hasn't proposed to you yet, but I can talk to him if you want."

I chuckled softly and said, "There's no need, Aunt Selma. Carl has never marked me. I've asked him to multiple times, but he's always refused. I used to hope he'd change his mind, but now I understand.

"His refusal to mark me or marry me means he's never actually seen me as his mate. I'm already 24. If I don't end this now, I'll waste the rest of my youth waiting for something that will never happen."

Aunt Selma sighed after a brief pause. "Alright then. Whatever you decide, I'll always be here for you."

After hanging up, I started counting down the three days until my new life would begin.

The next day, I asked Mom to send over some limited-edition, high-end designer handbags. I wanted to thank Aunt Selma for her years of care, and it was also my way of saying goodbye.

As night fell, the packages finally arrived, and I was ready to leave the Moonstone Pack.

I directed the driver to deliver the things to Aunt Selma's house.

But to my surprise, when I got downstairs, I ran into Carl.

The scent of Ivy Keating clung to Carl, triggering my wolf's fury. When I glanced over, there she was, leaning weakly against him.

The two of them carried gift bags, a large bag of groceries, and even a cake—looking every bit like a loving couple heading home to celebrate.

Aunt Selma came downstairs just in time to witness the scene.

She opened her mouth to question them, but I quickly interrupted her. "Mom sent some things for you. Make sure to use them and not just let them sit around."

I didn't spare Carl a single glance, but for once, he seemed eager to explain.

"Blaire, don't misunderstand. The place Ivy was staying had a lot of rogue wolves migrating from the borders. It wasn't safe. I'm only helping her move somewhere better. I didn't know Aunt Selma lived here too."

He then noticed the luxury bags in my arms and frowned slightly. "Why did you buy so many things?"

I signaled the driver to move the things and simply replied, "You don't need to tell me your work matters. These are from my mom. She thought it'd be a while before she visited again, so she bought a lot."

Seeing I hadn't misunderstood his intentions with Ivy, Carl visibly relaxed. He said, "Actually, this place isn't far from where we live. You can just let me know next time if you ever want to come by."

He had no idea I'd already decided to leave, or that a family-arranged marriage awaited me. Anyway, I had no intention of telling him.

Aunt Selma grew silent when she saw Carl's protective stance toward Ivy.

The awkward tension lingered until Ivy mentioned she felt tired.

Carl immediately sprang into action and halted the driver mid-move. He claimed that they had fewer items and asked to use the elevator first.

I caught a glimpse of the items he carried in the bags, one of which contained a box of rubbers. Without a second thought, I stepped aside to let him pass.

Carl looked a little surprised before hurrying into the elevator with Ivy in tow.

As the elevator doors slid shut, it felt like I saw my old self in Ivy.

Back when Aunt Selma had moved out and sold her house, Carl had been just as attentive. He'd eagerly carried all my belongings into his place, grinning as he told me he was ready to welcome his future mate.

Next to me, Aunt Selma sighed with evident regret. "Are you sure you don't want me to say something? You've known each other for so long. It'd be a shame if you broke up over a misunderstanding."

I shook my head and explained, "There's no misunderstanding. Carl never lets misunderstandings fester. If he hasn't explained it, that's your answer."

Carl and Ivy's bags hadn't seemed excessive and were just enough for a single trip. Yet, by the time I'd finished delivering my farewell gifts to Aunt Selma, Carl was still nowhere in sight.

Out of courtesy, I sent him a message. "When are you leaving?"

His response came quickly in the form of a voice message.

I opened it, only to hear Ivy's sweet, lilting tone.

"Blaire, Carl is fixing the wiring in my new place. It's been unoccupied for so long, and there's just so much to fix! You should head home; there's no need to wait for him."

Before I could hail a ride, another voice message arrived.

"Oh, and Blaire, don't overthink things, okay? Carl is just helping me out with some small favors. You know I'm all alone in this pack and don't know how to do much on my own. I really need his help..."

Her words grated on my nerves, and I stamped down my anger.

Memories of my childhood spent separated from my parents flashed through my mind, along with the grueling trips I made to the borders just two days before to bolster Carl's position as the alpha.

And now, the man who claimed to be too busy giving his all to become alpha was playing handyman for his secretary. It was laughable, really.

Not long after I got into the car, Carl called me.

His voice was low and impatient as he snapped, "Blaire, what's wrong with you today? Ivy's a young werewolf from the borders. What's the big deal if I help her find a place to live? As the future alpha, it's my job to look out for weaker members of the pack.

"And what's with your attitude the other day? It was your birthday, but you gave me the cold shoulder and left early, claiming you didn't feel well. I let that slide, but now you're throwing another tantrum."

In the background, I heard Ivy's soft sobs and finally understood she was playing the victim to drive a wedge between Carl and me. Her acting skills were astonishing.

I took a deep breath. Despite knowing her intent, I couldn't be bothered to defend myself.

"Yeah, you're right. My bad. I was just asking out of curiosity. Don't worry about it. I'm already on my way back and didn't wait for you."

Carl's unfinished questioning was stifled by my indifferent reply.

Just as I hung up, the car pulled up to our place.

After I stepped out, my phone vibrated continuously with notifications. It was from Carl's company group chat, and when I clicked in, there were more than 99 unread messages.

At the very top was a photo Ivy had posted. In it, Carl was crouched on the ground, his face glistening with sweat as he repaired an electrical circuit for her.

"Mr. Erickson is worth billions, and he's the future alpha of the pack! How is he still this thoughtful?"

"With a boss like him, I'd dedicate my whole life to the company!"

"If he was my alpha, I'd gladly pledge my loyalty to the pack forever."

The comments that followed were filled with envy and teasing.

"I've never seen Mr. Erickson like that. Doesn't he have germophobia? Doesn't look like it to me."

"Oh my God, a man out of his suit is so hot! I want to marry someone like him too. Hands off, everyone!"

"Our future luna posted the photo. Stop dreaming and get to work. "

Once, when Carl couldn't even afford to hire a secretary, I was his right hand who managed everything for him. But ever since Ivy took over, his attention had shifted to her while I was gradually forgotten.

I should've left this group chat long ago.

I scrolled through the messages one last time, then cleared the chat history and exited the group.

Now that I'd decided to leave Carl, glimpsing a preview of their post-marriage life no longer felt so painful. Still, I couldn't help but recall the early days when Carl first started his company.

He used to flood the group chat daily with candid shots of me making coffee or jotting down schedules. Everyone in the company knew he was madly in love with me.

Back then, buoyed by love, even working without pay felt sweet. But as the company grew stronger and business boomed, Carl began to view me as inexperienced and incapable of handling larger projects.

Thus, he'd hired Ivy who was fresh out of college to take over all my responsibilities.

Carl had even banned the group chat from mentioning anything about me. Overtly and subtly, he showed favoritism toward his newly hired secretary.

Once, a colleague who used to be close to me was bold enough to comment that Ivy wasn't as competent as I had been. Consequently, Carl had docked her a year's bonus.

In the end, I'd secretly transferred her money to prevent her from impulsively quitting her job.

Over time, Carl had conveniently forgotten how I had stood by him from the ground up, leveraging my parents' connections to bring him countless business opportunities.

When I entered the house that felt unfamiliar despite ten years of living in it, I quietly began packing my belongings and other essentials.

Midway, my gaze fell on a thick photo album sitting on a corner of the bookshelf, its surface coated in a thin layer of dust. I gently picked it up and sat on the edge of the bed, flipping open the first page.

Inside were countless photos that documented all the rabbit-themed gifts Carl had sought out for me over the past ten years.

From plush toys and pendants to rabbit-themed postcards from around the world, to limited-edition handcrafted rabbit figurines, and even obscure paintings by little-known artists—all centered on rabbits.

Carl used to smile and say, "I'll collect everything rabbit-related from around the world so you can wake up every day surrounded by your favorite things."

Ten years ago, he had made a promise. Once he gifted me 9,999 rabbit-themed items, we would get married. He'd declared that he would bribe my heart with these gifts until I was willing to marry him.

The photo album was custom-made to hold exactly 9,999 photos. Yet as I flipped to the last page, a stark emptiness greeted me.

I stared at that blank space for a long time, a self-deprecating smile tugging at my lips.

So much effort, all for nothing.

I carried the photo album downstairs to an open area. Then, I pulled out a lighter from my pocket and ignited it.

The flame quickly spread along the album's edges. One by one, the photos succumbed to the heat, crumbling into blackened ashes before vanishing entirely.

Those gifts had witnessed the ten years of my youth, and at this moment, they were reduced to nothing.

Carl happened to see this as he returned.

His face drained of color, and his eyes widened in shock and disbelief. The next moment, he rushed over and shoved me aside in an attempt to salvage the album from the fire.

However, the flames were too intense. The moment he got close, the searing heat forced him back.

The fire licked at his hand, turning it red with pain. He hissed sharply and retreated. Left with no choice, he frantically tried to stomp out the flames with his foot.

But it was futile.

Carl could only stand there as he helplessly watched as the photos—the memories of ten years—were swallowed by the blaze.

"Are you insane?" He finally turned to me, his voice trembling with rage.

His eyes burned hotter than the fire as he roared, "How could you burn the album? It took me ten years to collect the gifts! It's all gone now. Do you have any idea what you just did?"