When I straightened, I saw Theron standing at the entrance to the den, ready to leave. Without a backward glance, he called over his shoulder, “Something urgent came up with the council. I’ll walk with you next time,” before disappearing into the forest.

Half an hour later, I limped my way to my scouting post, noting the way some pack members glanced at me with a mix of sympathy and concern. Later, while filling my canteen at the river near the camp, I overheard two scouts whispering to each other.

“So it’s true—Alpha Theron has been spending more time with that new female beta, Celeste?” one asked.

“Uh-huh! You should have seen it this morning! Celeste showed up with some burrs on her coat, and Theron helped brush them off right in front of the whole council,” the other replied.

My hand slipped, and the canteen clattered onto the rocks, silencing their whispers. I crouched down to gather it, careful not to say anything.

I ended up working late, long after the moon had risen. It was past midnight when, suddenly, I felt a familiar weight settle on my shoulders.

“Selene,” Theron muttered, draping a cloak over my shoulders, “why didn’t you respond to my calls?”

I didn’t turn around; instead, I glanced at my comm-stone to see his last message: What flavor of moonberry brew do you usually like?

Three years ago, I had asked him for the first brew of summer. Back then, he had looked at me with pure disdain and scoffed, “Moonberry brew? You want me to make that for you? Selene, you’re nearly thirty winters old! Don’t make me cringe with this pup’s drink nonsense!”

But behind me, there he was, holding a fresh flask of moonberry brew.

I kept my gaze on the reports spread out in front of me, ignoring the sweet-scented flask.

I could sense his expression shifting as he spoke again, sounding almost confused. “You used to beg me for this.”

“It’s past moonrise,” I said dismissively. “If I drink it now, I won’t sleep.”

A brief silence stretched between us. Then, in a cold tone, he muttered, “I’m going to the edge of camp for a bit. Let’s head back together afterward.”

Barely thirty seconds later, his comm-stone lit up on my workbench. I glanced down to see it was a message from Celeste.

“You big goof! Who brings a whole crate of brews? Are you trying to turn me into a den-bound wolf? Freezing here!”

I shifted my eyes back to the maps on my table nonchalantly and organized the supplies scattered around. We returned to the den a little after midnight. As soon as I stepped in, I headed straight to my sleeping quarters and began gathering my things.

When Theron walked in, freshly groomed from the stream, he noticed my shelf looking barer than usual. He frowned but didn’t seem too concerned. “Hey, I’m headed to the Shadowmoon Territory next month for a council meet. If you want any herbs or tinctures, just make a list, and I’ll bring them back.”

I didn’t even hesitate. “Nah. I don’t need anything. Thanks anyway.”

After all, I’d be leaving in a few days. What was the point?

Suddenly, he tossed his cloak onto the bed, his eyes cold as he glared at me. “So, what? You’re sulking because I brought you the wrong food? Is that what this is about?”

I opened my mouth to say I wasn’t angry, but he scoffed before I could get a word in.

“You know I can’t stand wolves being dramatic,” he said with a look of disgust. “Selene, you’re way out of line.”

With that, he stormed out of the room and into his study, slamming the wooden door behind him.

In our seven seasons together, he’d always been the one to dish out the silent treatment countless times. And every single time, I’d been the one to swallow my pride and apologize to make things right. But this time, I just cocked an eyebrow and lay down, blowing out the bedside lantern.

He stayed in the study all night. For the first time, he didn’t hear a single knock on the door.

The next morning, I prepared a simple breakfast as usual. I’d just finished my portion and was getting ready to leave for my patrol when he stepped out of the study.

He was checking his comm-stone as he barked at me, “Take the day off. By moonset, I need you to make me an exact replica of the ceremonial honeycake.”

Ever since Theron and I started dating, I’d been making him a honeycake every single year—all by hand, as any wolf who truly cared would.

But when I glanced at the screen of his moonstone, I knew right then who it was meant for this time.

I recognized the little cartoon wolf avatar on his screen—it was Celeste’s profile picture.

I didn’t say a thing, letting an uneasy silence settle in the den. But Theron seemed completely oblivious to how unreasonable his request was. He just looked at me, waiting for me to agree.

Eventually, I just nodded, keeping my expression neutral. “Send me the image,” I said, rising to my feet. “I’ll head out to gather the ingredients.”

I thought back to that night seven years ago. If Theron hadn’t been there… I might not have made it through my first rogue encounter unscathed.

I looked back at him one last time, thinking, Once I finish this cake, I’ll finally be done with him.

I moved towards the den exit, each step feeling heavier than the last. Before I reached the door, Theron’s voice broke the silence.

“Selene…” he started, his tone uncertain.

I didn’t bother turning around. “Anything else?” I asked, my voice cold.

He hesitated before speaking again. “...I’ll send you some credits for the ingredients.”

I continued on without a word.

When I stepped outside, I pulled out my device. Opening up our chat history, I stared at the numbers.

5,363—that’s how many messages I’d sent him.

He’d only replied to 25.

It was exhausting to care, so all I could do was smirk.

Back in the den, Theron’s moonstone would buzz with the notification of the credit transfer being rejected. I could imagine his hand clenched around his moonstone, staring at the alert with frustration.

Later that evening, around 8 p.m., my moonstone rang, Theron’s name lighting up the screen.

“Hey, where are you?” he asked, sounding almost… concerned.

I was seated in a booth at a diner near my place, picking at my food. “What’s up?” I replied, sidestepping his question.

“Nothing much,” Theron responded, his voice softer now. “I just wanted to say… the cake was delicious. As always.”

There was a brief pause before he added in a lower voice, “Thanks. I know it was a lot of effort.”

Before I could say anything, I heard Celeste’s sickly-sweet voice in the background.

“Selene!” she chirped, her tone light and annoyingly sweet. “I heard from Theron that you made my honeycake today! Wow, you’re so talented! I wish I could do that… but I’m just so clumsy. Theron always calls me his ‘little pup.’”

I could practically see her pouting, her eyes wide with fake innocence as she spoke.

Before I could even process her words, she invited me to the pack gathering.

But I didn’t have a chance to respond before Theron’s voice came back on the line, this time a bit firmer. “Well, you don’t really need to come,” he said quickly before hanging up.

A few minutes later, my moonstone buzzed again. It was a message from him, with his location pinned and a note attached: If you do swing by, could you grab a bag of venison-flavored chips for Celeste from the pack store?

I sighed, letting out a faint, sarcastic smile.

When I pushed the door open to the private den, I spotted Theron immediately. He was feeding Celeste a slice of the cake I’d made, her eyes wide and doe-like as she looked up at him.

The moment he saw me, his expression shifted to irritation. His gaze darkened, and I knew exactly what he was thinking.

Why did I show up?

I already knew Celeste had been the one to send the message, not him. But I’d come anyway.

“Selene!” Celeste greeted me with a bright smile, her voice as sugary as always.

Theron’s eyes narrowed, and I could feel the tension rise in the room.

“Didn’t I tell you not to come?” he snapped, his irritation cutting through the air.

I opened my mouth to respond, but Celeste quickly jumped in, pouting in that over-the-top way she always did. “I’m sorry, Theron. I just wanted some venison chips, so I tricked her into coming,” she said, her voice dripping with false innocence.

Theron’s hard expression softened as he reached out, ruffling Celeste’s hair affectionately. “You little mischief-maker,” he muttered with a fond smile.

Watching him, I knew this was my moment. I reached into my bag and pulled out a letter.

“Theron,” I said, stepping forward, “one of our scouts has a family emergency and needs to leave for a bit. I’ll need your signature to approve it.”

Normally, our pack’s second-in-command would handle things like this, but since it was me, they’d asked me to deliver the letter directly.

The room was dim, shadows casting across Theron’s face. He barely glanced at the letter before he signed it, his focus still on Celeste, the birthday “celebrant.”

As I reached for the letter, Theron’s hand shot out, catching mine in his grip. His face shifted, a strange look crossing his eyes as he stared at my hand.

“You… You came here just for this?” he asked, his voice low and difficult to read.

I nodded, keeping my expression steady.

His face darkened, and for a moment, I thought he was going to say something more. But then he flinched, pulling his hand back as if he’d been burned.

I realized his fingers had brushed the burn marks on my palm from baking the cake. Maybe the feel of them repulsed him.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Celeste’s gaze flicker with sudden interest. “Oh, Selene!” she said, her eyes catching on my wrist. “That red charm bracelet you’re wearing… it looks quite familiar.”

Her smile widened as she leaned in. “I just remembered, a few days ago, I saw something just like that… in Theron’s trash.”

I watched Theron subtly move his hand to cover his wrist where his bond mark was hidden, but I pretended not to notice. Keeping my voice calm, I replied, "These charm bracelets are pretty common. If you like it, I can give this one to you."

Celeste didn’t respond, just looked away with a small frown.

When I walked out of the den, I headed straight for the nearest trash can and tossed the bracelet inside. I'd worn it for the past seven years, but it no longer meant anything—just discarded scraps.

As I turned to leave, waiting for the moon lift, my moonstone buzzed. It was my mother calling. “Did you buy your entry token back to the pack territory yet?” she asked.

“Not yet,” I replied, keeping my voice steady. “I’ll book it in a few days.”

Before I could hang up, I heard Theron’s voice behind me, his tone carrying a note of confusion. “You’re booking a entry token?”

I quickly ended the call and turned to face him with a blank expression. “Yeah, there’s a new forest lodge nearby that everyone’s talking about,” I lied smoothly. “You have to reserve days in advance if you want to experience the whole thing.”

Theron didn’t press the matter further. He just gestured for me to follow him to a nearby guest lodge and booked us a shared suite to save pack resources.

He quickly got to work on his laptop, handling some urgent territory business. There was an unspoken agreement between us as we worked side by side into the early morning hours, waiting for a client from the northern alliance to respond.

Eventually, exhaustion crept up on me, and I fell asleep.

The next morning, I woke up in bed, surprised to find myself tucked in carefully under a thick, soft blanket. Theron sat beside me, leaning casually against the headboard, flipping through the pack reports. He glanced over at me as I stirred.

“Breakfast will be here soon,” he said, picking up his moonstone to call for room service.

Halfway through breakfast, Theron suddenly asked, “Why did you change the rune pattern on your moonstone?”

I didn’t look up from my plate. “Felt like changing it,” I replied casually.

The truth was, the old rune pattern was our birthdays woven together. Since I was planning to leave for good, it didn’t make sense to keep it.

I heard him set down his fork, his tone shifting. “You were always asking me to go out for a run in the woods, weren’t you? I know a trail nearby.”

I knew there wasn’t an option to say no, not when the Alpha was taking time off from pack duties for me. So, I just nodded.

As we ran through the quiet, almost empty trail, I noticed the image of something I’d once dreamed of—Theron and I, running side by side, synchronized and strong, moving as if we were bound by more than memory.

But as the run wore on, I found myself struggling to keep up, fighting back yawns.

Theron must’ve noticed. “This is the trail you picked,” he said, a note of irritation creeping in. “You’re not enjoying it?”

“It’s fine. It’s good,” I said flatly, not bothering to fake enthusiasm.

He pressed his lips into a thin line, clearly not convinced. Just as he was about to say something, his moonstone buzzed, pulling him back to reality.

Without a word to me, Theron stood up and walked out of the den theater. The vision reel ended, and Theron still hadn’t returned.

Annoyed, I was about to mind-link him when I heard a familiar, irritatingly sweet voice from down the hall.

“Oh, Theron! You’re so amazing!” Celeste squealed.

I turned, spotting her as she clung to a massive stuffed wolf toy, practically bouncing up and down with excitement. She leaped into Theron’s arms, planting a kiss on his cheek, and he held her by the waist, chuckling softly. But the moment his eyes landed on me, his smile vanished.

“Luna! I didn’t know you were here too,” Celeste exclaimed, eyes wide and feigning innocence. A few seconds later, she gasped dramatically, covering her mouth. “Oh no! Don’t get the wrong idea! I just got a little excited, that’s all…”

Theron lightly tapped her on the nose, his tone playful. “What are you apologizing for?” he said, then turned to me, acting as if nothing was wrong. “The vision reel’s already over?”

Before I could respond, the loud blare of a pack alarm rang through the den.

In an instant, panic rippled through as wolves and pack members hurried toward the exits.

In the chaos, Theron instinctively grabbed Celeste’s hand, shielding her as they rushed toward the emergency door.

Five minutes later, the alarm was cleared—it had been a false alert.

Theron returned to where we had been standing, scanning the area, but I was nowhere in sight.

Two hours later, I was at the edge of pack territory, my single duffel bag over my shoulder, ready to shift for my journey back to my home pack. My moonstone kept buzzing nonstop. Theron’s name flashed on the screen over and over, but I ignored each call, setting my moonstone to silent.

Right before I shifted, I sent him one final message: We’re done.

As soon as it was sent, I crushed the moonstone in my hand, the final link to my past with Theron shattered.