In a tone heavy with apology, Ronan took the initiative to explain, "Nyra, it's not easy for Jasmine to raise her pup alone. She doesn't know anyone else here. She only has me."

His words struck like a blow, sharp and unrelenting. How easily he seemed to forget that I, too, sometimes only had him.

"Of course, I understand. She must've been through a lot," I replied evenly, keeping my voice calm.

But my calmness must have sounded biting to his ears because his temper flared almost instantly.

"Nyra, what's that supposed to mean? What's with your attitude?"

"I said I understand," I repeated, my voice losing its earlier lightness. "Is that a problem?"

"Do you have to talk to me like that?" he snapped.

Frustration seeped into my tone as I countered, "Then what do you want me to say?"

His retort came sharp and defensive. "Stop being so jealous! We're just friends. Can't you understand that?"

I let out a bitter scoff, the words tumbling out before I could stop them. "Sure. Friends you'd rather accompany than your own mate to the healer."

The silence that followed was thick and suffocating, like the air before a storm. Finally, he mumbled, defeated, "Just finish this task quickly, and we'll leave."

The irony was not lost on me. He once called me annoying for questioning his visits to Jasmine. When I reached out, asking when he'd be back from her den, I was also the annoying one. Now, even trying to understand him seemed to be grounds for his frustration.

With a heavy sigh, I tossed aside the herbal poultice I had been working on. There was no point dwelling on it, nothing I said or did would change anything.

Instead, I focused on my tasks, sorting and grinding the herbs on the desk in front of me. When the night shift ended, I deliberately lingered, taking my time to clean up the workspace. The thought of returning home held no appeal.

But I knew I had to. Asking the village healer for a place to stay would be shameless. Gathering my belongings, I started the trek back, deliberately ignoring Ronan.

He was furious—and hungry, no less—which only added to his temper. As his frustration boiled over, he kicked at a nearby tree to vent his anger. Unluckily for him, the disturbance roused a snake coiled in the branches. Without hesitation, it struck, sinking its fangs into his calf.

Ronan let out a strangled yell, grabbing the snake and flinging it into the bushes, where it quickly slithered away.

"Nyra," he called, his voice tight with pain, "I've been bitten by a snake! It's bleeding. Come check it out!"

I halted my steps, casting a disinterested glance over my shoulder.

"It's not venomous," I said flatly.

He limped closer, his disbelief evident. "How can you tell just by looking at it?"

Sighing, I crouched down to examine the bite more closely. I recognized the snake, it was a harmless species I'd seen many times before. Rising to my feet, I dusted off my knees.

"It's just a bite," I said. "Let it bleed out and it'll be fine. There's no need to waste medicine."

His expression twisted, a mix of frustration and hurt. "What do you mean?" he demanded. "Nyra, why don't you care anymore? You used to fuss over me when I was sick, making porridge, giving me medicine."

That was the old me. I remembered it all too well. But those days felt like a distant memory now, belonging to someone else entirely.

Once, Ronan had a stomachache, so I requested leave from my duties to bring him medicine to the pack hall. Unfortunately, rain caught me on the way, leaving my fur and clothes drenched, a dripping mess by the time I arrived.

But the day only worsened. His packmates chuckled at my soaked appearance, their laughter echoing through the hall. Ronan didn't so much as defend me amd instead, he joined in their amusement. To add insult to injury, he scolded me after, saying, "Don't ever come here again. You're an embarrassment."

Now, as Ronan stood before me, his irritation clear, I couldn't help but remember that moment.

"You look perfectly fine," I said, my tone clipped. "And you don't seem to be in any pain. We might be out of medicine, though, so you'll probably have to fetch some yourself."

I turned away, rolling my eyes out of his sight.

Ronan's jaw tightened, his frustration bubbling over. He grabbed my arm, his voice a harsh growl. "Nyra, how long are you going to punish me over Jasmine? I told you, there's nothing between us!"

"Oh, okay," I replied. My voice is steady, almost bored, a sharp contrast to his escalating anger.

My indifference only stoked the fire further. He let out a frustrated snarl, releasing my arm before storming off. I didn't need to ask where he was going. I already knew.

Days blurred together into an endless haze. After leaving, Ronan didn't return to the den for several nights, and I didn't bother asking where he was. On the third day, his voice brushed faintly against our bonded link.

"I'll be out on patrol for a few more days. Don't expect me back tonight."

"Stay safe," I replied, my tone devoid of warmth. A bitter chuckle slipped past my lips as I severed the connection.

With my injuries healed, I turned my attention back to work. Carrying a heavy basket strapped to my back, I joined my colleagues for a foraging trip. The pack's reserves were running low, so we ventured to the nearby meadow to restock.

As we trekked the familiar path, faint laughter floated through the trees. The sound guided my gaze to a wide, sunlit meadow where wildflowers stretched endlessly.

There, amidst the blooms, stood Ronan. He held a young pup in his arms, their laughter mingling in the air. They picked flowers, the child's giggles echoing his deep chuckles. Nearby, Jasmine handed them drinks, her voice soft and affectionate.

The scene looked picturesque, a perfect little family enjoying a serene day. My colleagues whispered amongst themselves, their glances darting between the "family of three" and me.

But I didn't care anymore. The fire of anger or sorrow had burned out long ago, leaving only hollow indifference. When Ronan might return ceased to matter. The question no longer lingered in my mind.

Later that evening, I stepped out of the pack healer's lodge to find Ronan unexpectedly waiting for me. His silhouette leaned casually against a post, holding a bouquet of flowers—wildflowers I'd seen him pick with Jasmine and her pup earlier.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, exhaustion weighing down my voice.

"Did you forget?" he said softly. "It's our bonding anniversary."

"Oh." My gaze dropped to the ground. "I've been busy. It must've slipped my mind."

Ronan's expression darkened, his disbelief palpable. "Nyra, you used to care about this more than anyone. How could you forget?"

Had I forgotten? No. I remembered every detail of past anniversaries—the carefully planned dinners, the thoughtful surprises. Yet, my efforts had often been dismissed as "too much" or "embarrassing." The memory of him pulling me aside during one celebration, whispering harshly, still stung.

Now, as he stood before me, searching for a spark of the old me, I couldn't summon the energy to pretend.

"Let's go have dinner," he said, his tone an attempt at levity.

I followed silently. He stole glances at me along the way, clearly uncomfortable with my indifference.

"Nyra, what's wrong?" he asked finally. "Are you upset?"

"No," I replied flatly.

"No?" he echoed, his voice rising in frustration. "Then why the attitude? Here I am, putting in the effort, picking you up for dinner. Can't you at least pretend to appreciate it?"

"I'm not angry, Ronan."

"Fine!" He let out a long sigh. "I promise, no more contact with Jasmine again, okay?"

I stared at him. Did he really think a simple gesture could erase months of lies and betrayal?

"Are you happy now?" he asked again.

I didn't answer and remained silent for the rest of the trip.

When we arrived at our den, it was decorated with flowers, a meal carefully laid out on the table. The scene was picturesque; the effort was clear.

Before I could say anything, Jasmine burst through the doorway, her voice frantic.

"Ronan!" She cried, ignoring my presence. "Kyle has a fever!"

"A fever?" Ronan's brow furrowed, worry etched on his face. "Do you have any medicine?" His concern was palpable until his gaze flickered toward me. Noticing my silent presence, he hesitated, swallowing his words. "I... I have plans today. I can't—"

"Please, Ronan!" Jasmine interrupted, desperation in her voice. "He's burning up, and it's so bad he's delirious. I don't know what to do!"

Ronan flinched, his posture stiffening as he glanced at me. His amber eyes carried guilt and unease.

"Nyra," he said hesitantly, "you see… her pup is sick. I need to—"

"It's fine," I interrupted, my voice cold. "Go. The pup's health is important."

He hesitated, torn between his obligation to her and me. "Wait for me," he murmured. "I'll be back soon."

With that, he grabbed his cloak, the faint scent of his familiar musk lingering in the air as he hurried out into the night.

Left alone, I stared at the untouched meal on the table, my appetite fading like the warmth of his presence. Sudden rain slammed against the windowpanes, echoing the tears I stubbornly refused to let fall.

With a deep sigh, I picked up my fork and ate in silence, finishing the meal alone in the hollow echo of the empty den.

Ronan didn't return to the den until the following morning. As soon as he stepped inside, he began explaining, "Kyle had a high fever all night. It just wouldn't break."

Kyle was Jasmine's pup. To my ears, even his name felt like a foreign word.

"Is everything alright now? Why didn't you stay longer? It must be difficult for Jasmine to handle a sick pup on her own," I said, offering a curt nod.

Ronan paused mid-motion as he removed his cloak, a flicker of annoyance flashing across his features. "Are you being sarcastic again?" he sighed, the sound heavy with either weariness or exasperation, I couldn't tell which. "Look, I didn't sleep all night. I'm exhausted."

"Then you should get some rest. I'm heading out to collect hearbs for the village healer," I said, turning away and reaching for my satchel.

"Nyra…" he called, stepping closer to pull me back.

"What is it?" I asked flatly.

"We'll make up the bonding celebration next time, alright?" he said softly.

A ghost of a smile touched my lips, devoid of warmth or sincerity. "I'm not upset."

He studied my expression before wrapping me in a hug. The gesture, much like his words, felt hollow, a mimicry of affection. "There's a pack exchange event this weekend," he murmured against my hair. "Why don't we go together? We can use it to make up for the bonding celebration."

The pack exchange was a diplomatic gathering, an opportunity for leaders and members from surrounding packs to strengthen alliances. As one of our pack's alphas, Ronan was obligated to attend every time. Yet, not once had he asked me to join him, not even allowing me to be present during meetings. It was no secret the others didn't like me.

Despite their disdain, however, they often called on me for help with minor ailments, citing my close connection with the village healer. In the past, I regularly brought Ronan meals or medicine to the pack hall whenever he was unwell. But he had never introduced me to his peers, keeping me as distant from their world as they preferred.

I snapped back to reality and replied, "No, I might have to work overtime next weekend."

"Work?" Ronan frowned, his brows knitting together. "You've been working constantly these past few days. Aren't you still injured?"

So he did remember. I shook my head and said, "I'm fine now. Winter solstice is approaching, and once the snow piles up, there won't be any herbs left to gather. We're preparing for the cold season."

His irritation was evident, but he couldn't argue against my reasoning. After glaring at me for a moment, he turned away and opened the door.

"Well, suit yourself," Ronan hissed through gritted teeth before slamming the door as he left.

I didn't attend the exchange, but I never expected him to take Jasmine instead. When the pack exchange finally concluded, the returning members were met with enthusiasm at the gate. The village elder led the way, with others gathering eagerly to hear about the event.

I stood off to the side, a basket strapped to my back, silently observing the parade of men returning with excitement. Among the crowd, three familiar figures caught my eye.

I overheard some of the women who had accompanied their mates to the exchange, chatting animatedly about the events.

One of them said, "Oh, during one of the games, Ronan carried Jasmine like she was a princess! He lifted her across the field effortlessly, and she clung to his neck, her cheek pressed to his chest. If she'd tilted her head just a little, she could've kissed him!"

The others laughed, chiming in with similar stories. "Everyone cheered them on, calling them the perfect pair," another added.

Given Ronan's high status as one of the pack's alphas, many wolves were eager to flatter him. One by one, they lined up to praise how well-matched he and Jasmine seemed, fueling the chatter that rippled through the group.

Even now, Jasmine was clinging to Ronan's arm affectionately, while Ronan had Kyle perched happily on his shoulders, the picture of a perfect family. With the basket I was carrying, I stood out from the crowd, and many of them couldn't help but notice me standing just a few paces away.

Suddenly, I clapped my hands together, as if joining in the joyful atmosphere, drawing everyone's attention toward me. Ronan's face went pale at the sound, and I spoke calmly, "A perfect match indeed. You two should be together. So, Ronan, let's end our bond."