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.

At the pack clinic, the healer splinted my wrist, muttering on repeat, "Bone's broken. Your wolf's barely hanging on. Three months, minimum. Push it, and you'll feel it every storm."

Emma stormed in, dropped my meds on the table with a bang. "Saw Liam escort Chloe in. Her arm's got a baby scratch, but she whined for premium healing cream. And Liam? Playing nurse—'Does it hurt?' 'Want water?' It was sickening."

I grabbed the bag, fingers tightening around the pill box. The throb in my chest hit way harder than my wrist.

***

Liam brought Chloe back to the mansion at ten.

Our home. Eight years in that house. The sunflowers by the door still leaned like always.

I sat in the dark on the couch.

He walked in, laughing. "Way nicer than your pack's, huh? Hope you stop by a lot."

He flipped on the light. Froze when he saw my splint. "Your wrist okay?"

"Broken," I said. "Three-month heal time."

"Oh. Then don't overdo it."

He turned to Chloe, grinning. "I'll get the peanut butter. Didn't you say you wanted that toast again?"

"Liam." My voice cracked. "You seriously have nothing to say to me?"

He blinked. "Say what?"

"Why you left me in that fire. Why it was all about Chloe. Why you forgot I'm allergic to peanuts, but you're making her favorite snack. Why you never marked me. Not once in eight years."

His face darkened. "I TOLD you—Chloe's a guest. If she got hurt, it'd look bad on us. You? You can handle yourself."

"That's it?" My voice cracked as tears finally spilled. "She's been here for DAYS. I've been with you EIGHT FREAKING YEARS! What's she got that I don't? Is it the fake crying? The constant whining?"

Chloe clung to his arm, eyes all sparkle. "Sophia, don't blame Liam. It's my fault. I should've left..."

"Shut up." My glare didn't leave her. "Cut the innocent act. You're gunning for the Luna spot, right?"

Liam jumped between us. "Enough! She's a guest—watch your mouth."

"Watch my mouth?" I laughed, shaking. "I'm not even your mate, am I? You never marked me. Never claimed me in front of the pack. Was I just your house help this whole time?"

He went quiet. Then muttered, "Not now. Chloe's here. Don't make a scene. Don't embarrass yourself."

"Oh, I'm the embarrassment?" I stared him down. "You make me sick."

His jaw clenched. That Alpha pressure hit like a storm front. "Say that again."

"I said—you make me sick!" I shouted, shaking. "You trash the one who actually loved you, and baby a fake. Eight years, Liam. I was such an idiot."

Chloe burst into tears. "Liam, I'm scared... Let's go. I don't want to stay here anymore."

Liam didn't even glance my way. He walked her to the bedroom and shut the door.

Through the click, his voice came cold. "Think about how you acted. Stop causing drama."

I stood there, staring at that door.

Whatever hope I'd been hanging onto finally shattered—way too broken to fix.