When I lost my child, I had been gathering herbs near the border, close to enemy pack lands. Suddenly, rival wolves spotted me and chased me, forcing me to run. I managed to escape but not without injury, bleeding from deep scratches as I stumbled, desperate for help.

Through our telepathic bond, I sensed Alaric nearby. My mate—my supposed protector—was close enough to hear my call. As I reached out to him, pleading for help, he ignored me. His attention was solely on Selene, who stood by his side.

Later, as I lay alone, nursing my wounds and trying to piece myself together, I returned to our den, searching for something to distract myself. That was when I found it—a piece of Selene's clothing, hastily stuffed away in Alaric's private quarters.

After I returned to the den, I made my choice. I picked up the homing pigeon and attached a letter, stating, "Chief Jarek of Cranberry Pack, I have accepted your offer. I will work as a gatherer for your pack."

---

It would take a few weeks for the message to reach its destination.

I watched as the pigeon flew away, just in time for Alaric to step out of the bathroom. He had just finished his shower, his hair still damp and beads of water clinging to his skin.

He used to take no more than five minutes in the shower, but lately, he'd been spending at least half an hour there, as if he were trying to scrub off someone else's scent.

"What are you doing?" he asked, eyeing the pigeon as it disappeared into the distance.

"Sending a letter to my parents," I answered simply.

"Ah," he murmured, barely paying attention. As usual, he wasn't really listening.

For the first time, I didn't get upset or make a fuss. I just went to clean up the bedroom, picking up the clothes he'd tossed into a corner. When he reached for his water cup, likely expecting the calming tea I'd made for him every night, he paused, realizing it wasn't there.

Finally, he glanced at me.

"I met the healer along the way. They said it's just a minor injury, nothing serious. Just keep the wound dry."

"Alright," I replied without looking up, taking his empty cup and setting it in the sink.

That afternoon, I had gotten stitches in my leg and arm from the accident. Worse still, I'd just found out I was four weeks pregnant — and already showing signs of miscarriage.

The healer had apologized, saying the bleeding might have been managed if only I'd come sooner — if someone had cared enough to bring me back. I stared blankly as the healer repeated their apologies, the words about timing echoing louder than any howl.

Alaric's choice to ignore me had cost our child's life.

Seeing the empty expression on my face, Alaric frowned and started walking over to see what I was doing.

Just then, someone called Alaric from the window. It was his friends—with Selene among them. His lips curved into a smile, and without a second thought, he went out to join them, leaving me alone until I drifted off to sleep.

The next morning, Alaric woke up early and returned with a basket of fruit and freshly hunted lean meat. Just as I reached out to check the meat, he slapped my hand away.

"You like mangoes, right? They're in season. I got one just for you."

I froze for a second, then the realization hit me—this wasn't for me. The meat was for Selene.

I couldn't hold back any longer. "We've been together for seven years, and you still don't know I'm allergic to mangoes?"

His expression darkened, and he stood abruptly. "Stop making a fuss. Eat it or don't. I don't care."

Without a word, I turned and walked to the bedroom, returning with a small bag. I handed it to him.

"When you see Selene later, do me a favor and give this back to her."

He took the bag, his brow furrowing as he peeked inside. When he saw the lace bra, surprise flickered in his eyes. He opened his mouth, maybe to explain, but when he saw my calm, indifferent expression, he only muttered, "I'll tell her to stop being so careless."

"Yeah," I said quietly, looking away.

Noticing my low mood, he offered, "You're still limping. Do you want me to join you when you go foraging?"

Seven years together, and he'd never once come with me to forage, saying it was "a woman's job," no matter how bad the weather was. He always kept work and personal life separate.

But for Selene? He'd go along without a second thought, as if her safety was paramount.

And just then—right on cue—Selene appeared at the doorway, her eyes searching for him.

As I reflected on how differently Alaric treated Selene, my hand slipped, knocking my fork to the floor. My fingers trembled slightly as I bent to pick it up.

When I straightened, Alaric was already at the doorway, ready to leave. Without even looking back, he tossed over his shoulder, "Selene says she needs me for something. You're just foraging today, so I'll help her instead."

Selene flashed me a small, knowing smile and linked her arm through his as they left together.

About half an hour later, I limped to the healer's hut to report in and have my wounds checked. My colleagues gave me sympathetic looks, though I wasn't sure why. I ignored them and started sorting the herbs I'd foraged yesterday.

Later, as I carried a large ceramic mortar to the storage room, I overheard two colleagues whispering nearby.

"So, is it true? Did Alaric really ditch Lyra for Selene?" one asked.

"Yep. Someone saw Alaric with Selene on the grass field the day they sensed Lyra calling for help. And you know it takes something serious for a Luna to reach out to another alpha like that. But they said Alaric ignored it and just led Selene deeper into the thicket…"

My hand slipped, and the mortar shattered on the floor, bringing their gossip to an abrupt halt. Silently, I knelt to gather the broken pieces, carefully dropping them into the trash without a word.

I ended up working late that night. Near midnight, I felt something heavy settle on my shoulders.

"Lyra," Alaric murmured, draping a fur coat over me. "Why didn't you respond to my link?"

I kept my back to him, focusing on packing dried herbs into an oiled bag, ignoring the basket of sweet dates he'd placed on the table.

Three years ago, I'd asked him to pick sweet dates for me. He scoffed, saying, "Sweet dates? You expect me to climb trees for those? Lyra, you're almost thirty. Stop craving childish things! Don't make me sick with this nonsense."

Yet now, there he was, bringing me a basket of sweet dates.

I concentrated on measuring powdered leaves, still ignoring the basket.

He sounded puzzled as he spoke again, "You used to beg me for these."

"It's past ten. If I eat them now, I won't be able to sleep," I replied coolly.

He was silent for a moment before muttering in a cold tone, "How long until you're done? Let's go home together afterward."

Just as he finished, Selene appeared, immediately leaning on Alaric as her eyes drifted to the basket.

"Oh, you silly thing!" she laughed. "You've already sent me so many baskets of sweet dates! Are you trying to turn me into a little piggy?" She chuckled, adding, "Good thing you brought some for Lyra too, since I can't finish them all myself!"

I returned to the weighing scale, adjusting the weights without reacting. Selene didn't linger, hinting that if I ever wanted more, I could just ask her since Alaric had brought her plenty.

When we finally arrived home, I went straight to the bedroom and started packing my things. Minutes later, Alaric came in, freshly showered, his gaze narrowing when he noticed my vanity looking emptier.

He frowned but didn't comment on it. Instead, he said, "I'm going on an exchange visit to the pack across the river next month. If there's anything you want, make a list, and I'll bring it back."

I replied without hesitation, "No, I don't need anything. Thanks, though."

After all, I'd be gone in a few days.

Suddenly, he tossed his towel onto the bed, giving me a cold stare. "What's with the attitude? Are you mad because I got you the wrong breakfast? Is that what this whole thing's about?"

I opened my mouth to respond, but he cut me off with a scoff.

"I can't stand it when women act dramatically, Lyra. You're being ridiculous," he said, his voice edged with disgust.

Then he stormed out, slamming the door behind him.

In the seven years we'd been together, he'd always been the one to start silent treatments, leaving me to apologize and patch things up. But this time, I just raised an eyebrow and lay down on my side of the bed.

He didn't return that night. For the first time, I didn't reach out through the link, nor did I look for him.

The next morning, I made breakfast as usual, ate my portion, and was about to leave for work when he walked in, looking strangely well-rested, as if he'd slept elsewhere.

Without greeting me, he dropped a list onto the counter. "Leave work early and gather these herbs for me. I need them before dawn—don't be late."

He hadn't even noticed I was still injured, that I hadn't been out foraging in days.

I glanced down at the list, feeling something breaking inside me.

As I glanced at the list Alaric had given me, I recognized each ingredient as if it were etched into my memory. They were all for his favorite herb cake, a treat I had been making him by hand every year since we first started dating.

It was no easy feat to gather the herbs.

Some grew only on the steep cliffs near our territory. Climbing up to collect them was dangerous and exhausting.

The silence in the room was thick, but Alaric remained oblivious to how absurd his request was, especially given my bandaged arms and legs, which he seemed to overlook entirely.

I took a steadying breath, masking any hint of pain as I nodded. "No problem," I replied, keeping my voice neutral as I forced myself to stand. "I'll head out now and gather everything you need."

Each step toward the door felt heavier than the last, weighted with both physical pain and lost love.

As I reached for the door, I couldn't help but recall a memory from years before, when I had nearly fallen to my death collecting those same herbs. I was younger then, desperate to impress Alaric, to show him that I was serious about building a future together. He had once looked at me with warmth, with a spark that made me feel special.

But those days felt like they belonged to someone else now, a distant stranger.

Alaric's voice cut through the silence. "Lyra…" he said, sounding almost uncertain.

I stopped but didn't turn around. "Anything else?" I asked, a touch of exhaustion slipping into my tone.

There was a pause, then he muttered, "...It's fine if you use substitutes for some of the ingredients."

I almost laughed at his sudden consideration, realizing he did notice my injuries after all. So he knew. And yet, he hadn't thought twice about asking me to go.

I walked out without another word.

Reaching the cliffs, I began my task, methodically picking the herbs and leaves needed for the cake. Alaric's voice called through our telepathic link a few times, but I didn't respond.

I had called him many times in the past when I needed him, during my darkest moments—even when I lost our child—but he ignored me every time.

I pushed through the pain in my muscles, barely noticing as I reopened a few stitches, determined to finish gathering the ingredients by mid-afternoon.

Back at the healer's hut, I finally allowed myself to rest, letting the healer tend to my wounds, some of which were now bleeding anew.

Not long after, I sensed Alaric's presence through the link, and, grudgingly, I answered him.

"Where are you?" He asked, something almost like concern in his voice.

I leaned back, feeling the ache in my body from the long climb. "What's up?" I responded flatly, sidestepping his question.

"I was worried...you didn't send the herbs yourself," he admitted, his tone softening. "I just wanted to say…"

There was a pause before his voice fell silent, and a moment later, he appeared at the healer's hut, his eyes widening slightly as they landed on the fresh bandages. For a brief second, I thought I saw a flicker of guilt on his face.

"Thanks," he muttered, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. "I know it must have been a lot of effort."

But before I could even respond, I heard a light, sugary voice chiming in. Selene's heels clicked against the stone floor as she approached, her eyes wide with mock surprise and delight.

"Lyra!" she called out, her tone dripping with sweetness. "I heard from Alaric that you're the one who gathered the special herbs for my birthday cake! How talented you are."

Alaric nodded, smiling in agreement as he glanced at her. "Yes, she is."

Selene clasped her delicate, well-manicured hands in front of her and giggled. "I wish I could be like that… but look at these hands!" She stretched them out to show her pale, smooth skin. "They're not made for rough work like Lyra's. Alaric always calls me his ‘little dummy' because I'm so clumsy." She glanced at me with a coy smile, her words as sharp as they were sweet.

I didn't respond, simply meeting her gaze with an unwavering stare that gave nothing away. She might have thought her comments would sting, but I had already learned not to expect anything more.

Selene's smile lingered as she continued, "Anyway, since you finished gathering the herbs so early, we'll be starting the cake soon. Why don't you join us at the party?"

But before I could say anything, Alaric cut in, his tone firmer than before. "Actually, you don't need to come, Lyra. We… don't really need you there."