Eight years of loyalty—wiped out by three days of her batting her lashes.

At the bonfire, I swore the Alpha would finally mark me. Instead, I watched him fasten a sparkly little pendant around her neck.

When the fire broke out, he ditched me—flames snapping at my heels. Said I could "handle myself," then played hero carrying her out.

She showed up at my herb shop all smug, called me a "mutt no one wants."

Then he showed up—Alpha on his knees outside my door, begging for another shot.

I nodded toward my shelves. "These heal every wolf in Stormborne... except the Alpha who couldn't see what was right in front of him."

The Stormborne pack's bonfire festival reeked of berries and smoke.

I gripped the Sootheleaf in my hand, fingers brushing the edges. Climbed the back ridge at dawn just to get it. Liam—our Alpha—took a silver cut during a clash with a rival pack. This herb was the only thing keeping the swelling in check. He needed it daily.

He didn't even glance at me.

His eyes? Glued to Chloe, the visiting Alpha's daughter.

"Liam, will you peel this berry for me?" she purred, clinging to his arm, dragging her nails along the seam of his coat.

Liam looked down, and his smile went soft—so soft I'd never seen it in our eight freaking years.

"Careful, don't stain your dress."

He peeled the berry slow, handed it over. Juice smeared his fingers. Chloe whipped out some lacy handkerchief and stood on tiptoe to blot his hand, her fingers lingering way too long.

"Liam, your herbs—" My grip crushed the Sootheleaf.

"Wait, can't you see I'm busy?" Still didn't look at me. Eyes locked on a jewelry stand.

Chloe brushed a gemstone, then pointed at a red agate pendant. "Isn't this one pretty?"

"I'll put it on for you."

He picked it up like it was sacred. The way he stared at that stone? I'd never seen that kind of focus—not once.

"Liam, I heard your pack makes the best peanut butter? My mom used to spread it on toast. I haven't had it in forever." Chloe tugged his sleeve, voice dipped in a sweet little pout.

My chest locked up.

Eight years ago, peanuts nearly killed me. He'd sprinted me to the pack clinic, roaring, 'If anyone mentions peanut butter again, they'll answer to me.'

Now? He was smiling. "No problem. I'll have them pack a few jars for you to take home."

Clink.

My glass hit the table hard, water splashing straight onto Chloe's spotless white dress.

Her eyes shimmered instantly. She jerked back. "Sophia, is it 'cause I mentioned peanut butter? I didn't mean to upset you..."

Liam scowled. "Why are you so clumsy? Can't even hold a cup right?"

"Liam, did you forget I'm allergic to peanuts?" My voice cracked. The herbs shook in my grip.

He hesitated, eyes darting. "Chloe's just visiting. What's wrong with letting her try something local? You don't have to eat it."

"Eight years, and you forget peanuts make me wheeze—but in three days, you remember her favorite snack?" I stepped up, locked eyes. "Your memory that bad, or just bad when it's about me?"

His jaw tightened. "Don't make a scene. Chloe's our guest. Show some respect."

I snapped. "She's not a guest. She's a mutt who knows how to fake helpless and flirt like it's her job."

Chloe clung to his arm, full-on sobbing. "It's my fault. Don't fight with Sophia because of me. I won't eat peanut butter anymore..."

Liam stroked her back like she was some shaken pup. Then his glare hit me, thick with Alpha aura. "Keep this up and I'll send you back to the cabin behind the ridge. Stop embarrassing yourself."

I stepped back, clutching the herbs so tight my knuckles went white.

Eight years of love—trashed by one fake tear from a tourist. What a freaking joke.

My best friend, Emma, handed me a cup of warm water and dropped beside me with a sigh. "It's messed up. Eight years, and you still lose to some tramp who just showed up."

I stayed silent, eyes locked on the bonfire.

Liam was busy helping Chloe with pendants. She twirled, asking if it looked cute. He nodded—never once looked my way.

My fingers found the half-finished wrist guard in my bag. The herb-thread was damp from how hard I'd been holding it.

Useless now.

The bonfire music jumped, loud and wild.

Emma tugged my hand. "Come on! Quit sulking. Dance with me!"

She dragged me forward, but I barely got two steps before Chloe showed up, clinging to Liam's arm.

"Sophia, you're dancing too?" she beamed. "Liam said he'd teach me the circle dance. Said it's the most fun."

Liam didn't even glance at me. "Too crowded here," he told her. "Let's find some space so you don't get bumped."

They weren't even a full song in when Chloe gasped and toppled into his chest. "Ow! My ankle—it hurts!"

He dropped to one knee, carefully easing off her shoe. Fingers brushed her ankle like she was made of glass. "Does it hurt bad? I'll take you to the clinic."

"No need." Chloe clung to his hand, leaning in. "As long as you're here, it doesn't hurt at all."

Watching them, whatever spark I had left just... died. Snuffed out like it never mattered.

Then Liam finally turned my way. "Sophia, grab a water bottle. Chloe's thirsty."

"You don't have hands?" I said flat, not budging.

"She can't walk. Her ankle's hurt." His frown was pure Alpha entitlement. "It's just water. What's the big deal?"

"What's her ankle got to do with me?" I stared him down. "You her servant, or my mate?"

The music didn't just stop—it died. Wolves froze mid-step. Eyes locked on us.

Chloe's face drained. She tugged his sleeve, tears already welling. "Sophia, I didn't mean to trouble you. I can get it myself..."

She started to rise, all shaky fake-determination.

"Sit still!" Liam pushed her right back down, then snapped at me. "Sophia, you're out of line. She's hurt, and you won't even get her some water?"

"I'm out of line?" I laughed, tears slipping onto the back of my hand. "You've never treated me like this.

"Three days in, and you're peeling her berries, dressing her in pendants, bending over backward. I gave you eight years. What am I even worth to you?"

His mouth opened—nothing came out.

Chloe clung tighter. "Don't fight... let's just sit over there..."

He didn't even glance back. Just walked her off like she was something fragile.

The fire blazed behind me, but all I felt was ice.

The stage blew with a loud bang.

Sparks flew, hit the linen curtains—and boom. Fire tore up fast. Smoke rolled in thick, choking the air with the stench of burning fabric.

Wolves screamed. Bodies shoved. Someone slammed into my back—I hit the stone hard. Pain ripped through my arm as my wrist cracked loud.

I tried to get up—too slow. Another wolf's foot crushed down on my back mid-sprint. My chest caved under the weight—I almost spit blood.

"Liam! Help me!" I yelled, voice raw.

Through the smoke, I saw him—just a few yards away, wrapped around Chloe. She clung to him like her life depended on it.

He looked at me. Just for a second—hesitation in his eyes.

Then Chloe buried her face in his chest, sobbing. "The fire's huge! I'm scared! If we don't leave now, we'll die!"

He didn't think twice. Wrapped her up, threw his coat over her head, and bolted for the exit.

As they passed, I reached out—grabbed his pant leg.

He kicked me off.

His boot smashed right into my busted wrist. I screamed, pain ripping through me as tears blurred everything.

"Get up yourself!" His voice cut like ice. "Chloe's a guest—she can't get hurt. You're strong. You can walk."

'Strong.'

That word hit harder than the fire.

Flames roared higher. Beams snapped and crashed, sparks raining down. One landed on my jacket—started to burn.

Wolves were yelling, grabbing their mates, dragging friends out. I lay there like garbage, broken and forgotten.

"Sophia! Sophia!" Emma's voice tore through the smoke.

Emma dropped to her knees beside me, took one look at my wrist, and snapped. "Damn that Liam! Heartless bastard!"

She slid under my arm, hauling me up. I glanced down the hallway—empty. He was gone.

At the exit, Noah—one of the few Stormborne wolves who actually gave a damn—showed up with a first-aid kit.

No questions, just action. He wrapped an ice pack in a towel and gently pressed it to my wrist.

"Cold compress first. Ambulance is on the way."

His hands were steady, touch feather-light. The heat of his palm through that towel? Warmer than anything Liam gave me in eight years.

As the ambulance rumbled to life, Liam's SUV pulled out.

Chloe was in the passenger seat, pink bandage on her arm. She leaned into him, voice soft. "I'm so glad you were there. I would've been terrified without you."

He ruffled her hair. "Don't worry. I've got you. No one's gonna hurt you."

Their car rolled past us.

He didn't lower the window. Didn't even look my way.

I shut my eyes. Tears soaked into my shirt, leaving cold little blotches.

Eight years of love—gone. Burned to ash in one fire.