"Are you sure about your decision, Astrid? This is your last chance. If you betray us again, I won’t help you anymore," Asher said seriously.

He was surprised by my decision since I had always refused his requests to leave the Shadow Pack.

"Yes, I've thought this through carefully," I replied, my voice firm. I was resolute in my decision, and I wasn’t going to back down. There was no reason for me to stay by Magnus’s side if the one he truly loved was Ingrid.

When I first joined their pack, I knew Alpha Magnus had feelings for Ingrid, but she had rejected him because she was engaged to another Alpha. I had only been his last resort.

I had truly believed Magnus loved me. I couldn’t forget how he fought for me, how he accepted me into their pack, despite the fact that I came from the Crimson Pack—the very pack that had once destroyed their lives.

"I don't care where you come from, Astrid. I love you for who you are."

Those were the sweetest words I had ever heard from him.

For a time, I had been the happiest person in the world, pouring all my love into Magnus. But deep down, something had always felt off—an unexplainable worry I had ignored. I hadn’t realized it at the time, but it was a warning. A sign that my heart was bound to be shattered.

I foolishly believed in a fairytale romance when, in reality, my mate was nothing more than a cheater.

"How could you not realize Magnus was cheating? Are you really that blind, Astrid?" Asher pressed.

"I trusted him," I cried. "I thought he was different."

Suddenly, a painful memory surfaced—the day Ingrid’s mate died. It had happened on my birthday. The worst part? Magnus had abandoned me that day to comfort her.

Every year, when my birthday came around, instead of celebrating with me, Magnus would visit Ingrid and her late husband's grave.

And I had been so naïve—so understanding, even when I was neglected.

It's true what they say. Kindness only leads to being taken advantage of.

"You know we can’t trust anyone, Astrid," Asher reminded me. "Your mother trusted them, and look what happened to her. She’s dead. You’re lucky to be alive—so don’t waste your life on that idiot."

My mother had once been involved with the Shadow Pack’s previous Alpha. She loved him. But my grandfather, Harold, dragged her back and killed her for having an affair with his mortal enemy.

After our conversation, I hung up the phone and continued packing my things.

I was caught off guard when the door suddenly opened, and Magnus walked in.

"Darling, we need to leave soon. Some wolves went missing during the snowstorm, and we had to find them," he said.

"Sure, no problem," I replied emotionlessly.

Before leaving, he leaned in and kissed my forehead. "When I get back, I promise I’ll take you out on a date. I want to spend some time with you."

Instead of feeling happy, I remained unmoved. The anger in my heart burned stronger than ever.

"Me too," I murmured, knowing deep down that there was no longer any time left for us.

That evening, I was ready to leave, but Asher called with bad news.

"I can’t pick you up yet. There are patrols everywhere, hunting for intruders. If I try to enter the town now, I’ll be caught."

I clenched my jaw in frustration. I had no choice but to stay in this miserable house for another night.

Days passed, and I endured Magnus and Ingrid’s presence, even though every moment around them felt unbearable.

Currently, Ingrid was staying in our home—our home—because hers had burned down. Asher had been the one to set it ablaze, and I didn’t blame him.

Tonight, we all sat at the same table for dinner. I watched in silence as Magnus served food onto Ingrid’s plate. She had a burn on her hand from the fire, and he was tending to her like she was the most fragile thing in the world.

Jealousy clawed at my insides. I was his wife, yet he treated me like a stranger.

"You’re so sweet, Magnus," I said sarcastically. "Taking such good care of her."

Neither of them seemed to notice my bitterness.

"Of course, she’s my f-friend," Magnus stuttered, avoiding my gaze.

"You know, Astrid, I'm very thankful to Magnus," Ingrid chimed in, smiling smugly. "He’s saved my life so many times."

I bit my lip, swallowing the rage rising in my throat.

"Really?" I said sweetly. "Aww, I’m so relieved you didn’t die."

As I cut into my steak, I imagined I was slicing them both apart instead.

That night, I went to bed without a word. Magnus lay beside me, but I turned my back to him, refusing to face him.

"Darling, why aren’t you facing me?" he murmured, but I stayed silent, pretending to be asleep.

I woke up in the middle of the night, my throat dry. I got out of bed and made my way to the kitchen for a drink.

As I walked down the hall, I heard something—soft noises coming from the guest room.

I stopped, my body was still going.

The sounds became clearer.

Moans.

A deep sense of dread settled over me as I stepped closer.

Slowly, I pushed the door open.

And then I saw them.

Magnus was on top of Ingrid, his body moving against hers.

I stumbled back, my breath catching in my throat.

The sight of my husband, buried between another woman’s legs, tore through me like a dagger to the chest.

A pain unlike anything I had ever felt. A pain I knew would never heal.

I turned and walked away before I could torture myself any further.

I returned to my room, but I didn’t cry.

I refused to cry. I refused to let Magnus have any more of my tears.

Instead, I picked up a pen and paper.

If Magnus wanted Ingrid, he could have her.

But not without a final farewell.

And so, I wrote a letter—one last goodbye to the man who had broken me.

The night air was cold against my skin as I packed the last of my belongings into a small bag. My hands trembled, not from fear, but from the sheer rage coursing through my veins. I had endured enough.

Magnus and Ingrid had taken everything from me—my love, my trust, my child. I had planned to leave silently, but after witnessing their betrayal firsthand, I knew I couldn’t just disappear like a wounded animal. No, they needed to know that the Astrid they had broken would rise again, stronger than ever.

I left my letter on the bedside table, the ink still fresh.

To my dearest husband,

I wish you and Ingrid all the happiness in the world. You deserve each other—two backstabbers bound by deceit. May your love be as strong as the lies you built it on.

Do not come look for me. This is the last time you will ever see me as the woman who loved you. The next time we meet, Magnus, I will not be your wife.

I will be your downfall.

—Astrid.

I slid my wedding ring off my finger and placed it on top of the letter. It gleamed under the dim candlelight, a final mockery of the love I once thought was real.

Taking a deep breath, I grabbed my bag and slipped through the shadows of the house. My heart pounded as I reached the back entrance, my mind racing with the knowledge that if I was caught, Magnus would never let me go.

I stepped outside into the freezing night, and just as I was about to take another step toward my freedom—

"Going somewhere, Astrid?"

My blood ran cold.

I turned slowly, and there he was. Magnus stood in the doorway, his silver eyes gleaming like a predator who had just caught his prey. His shirt was disheveled, his hair a mess—clear signs of the betrayal he had just committed. Yet, despite everything, his expression held no guilt.

My pulse thundered in my ears. "Move," I said, my voice devoid of emotion.

But Magnus didn't move. Instead, he tilted his head, his sharp gaze raking over me. "Why are you leaving in the middle of the night?" His voice was low, almost dangerous.

"Because I don’t belong here," I replied. "Not anymore."

Magnus's expression darkened. "Who told you that?"

I let out a bitter laugh. "You did. Over and over again, every time you chose her over me."

His jaw clenched, and for the first time, I saw something flicker in his eyes. Guilt? Regret? It didn't matter anymore.

"I'm done, Magnus," I whispered. "You can keep Ingrid, keep your lies. But you will never see me again."

I turned to leave, but before I could take another step, a strong hand gripped my wrist, pulling me back with force.

"I'm not letting you go." His voice was firm, possessive.

A new kind of rage ignited inside me. I yanked my hand free, my eyes burning into him. "You don’t have a choice."

Magnus exhaled sharply, his patience thinning. "Why are you acting like this? What happened while I was away?"

I nearly laughed. He still thought I was the same naive girl who would crumble under his touch, the same foolish mate who would believe his lies. Not anymore.

"Nothing happened, Magnus," I said coldly. "I just opened my eyes."

His brows furrowed. "Astrid, if something is wrong, just tell me. I—"

"You what?" I snapped. "You love me? Do you care about me? Save it, Magnus. I know everything."

He stiffened. "What do you mean?"

"I mean," I whispered, stepping closer, "I know where you were all those months. I know who you were with."

His eyes darkened. "You don’t understand—"

"I understand perfectly," I cut him off. "You left me alone for months, and when you came back, you still ran to her. How long have you been lying to me, Magnus? From the beginning?"

His silence was all the answer I needed.

I shook my head. "You didn’t even hesitate to betray me, did you?"

Magnus took a deep breath, his fingers twitching as if he wanted to reach for me. "Astrid, it’s complicated."

"No, Magnus. It’s simple." I stared him down, feeling the weight of my loss settle over me. "You never loved me."

His lips parted, but before he could respond, a sharp howl echoed through the night.

Magnus stiffened. His eyes darted past me, his body tensing as more howls followed—closer this time.

I smirked. "Oh, and one more thing, Magnus..."

His gaze snapped back to me, confusion evident.

I stepped back into the darkness, my lips curling into a cold smile.

"You should probably start running."

And then, the Crimson Pack emerged from the shadows.

Dozens of glowing red eyes pierced through the darkness as wolves stepped into the moonlight. Asher stood at the front, his expression unreadable, but his stance was firm. A warrior ready to strike.

Magnus inhaled sharply, his body going rigid as he realized what was happening. "You called them?"

I tilted my head, feigning innocence. "Why wouldn’t I? After all, they are my family."

Magnus’s eyes flickered with something close to panic. He knew what this meant. The Crimson Pack was ruthless, and Magnus had stolen one of their own. Worse, he had broken me.

Asher stepped forward, his voice cutting through the cold air. "Astrid, come here."

I walked past Magnus without a second glance, standing beside my brother as my true pack surrounded me. For the first time in a long while, I felt safe.

Magnus took a step forward, but Asher growled in warning. "You don’t get to touch her. Not anymore."

Magnus clenched his fists. "Astrid, don't do this. You don't know what you're getting yourself into."

I met his gaze with nothing but cold fury. "No, Magnus. You don't know what you've started."

With one last glance at the man I once loved, I turned my back on him—forever.

Asher raised his hand, and in an instant, the Crimson Pack lunged.

Magnus barely had time to react as the wolves descended upon him, forcing him to shift into his monstrous black wolf. A fierce battle erupted, growls and snarls filling the night air.

I watched, emotionless, as Magnus fought for his life.

The wind stirred through the trees, carrying the scent of damp earth and pine as I followed Asher through the darkened forest. My steps were steady, but inside, I was unraveling. Every breath felt heavier, every thought louder. I had done it—I had walked away from Magnus. But instead of feeling victorious, a strange hollowness settled in my chest.

I clutched the cloak wrapped around my shoulders, my fingers digging into the fabric. I had told myself I wouldn’t look back, but my mind replayed the moment over and over. When the Crimson Pack had surrounded Magnus, I could have let them finish him. I could have stood there and watched, let them tear him apart the way he had torn me apart.

But I couldn't. Even after everything, I had told them to let him go.

The memory burned in my mind—the way Magnus had looked at me, his silver eyes unreadable as I made my choice. He had expected me to be cruel, to seek revenge. Instead, I had left him with nothing. Not mercy. Not forgiveness. Just silence.

"You did the right thing," Asher said beside me, his voice calm, as if he could hear my thoughts. "Killing him wouldn’t have changed anything."

I swallowed hard. "I don’t know what the right thing is anymore."

Asher didn’t respond, just kept walking. The Crimson Pack moved around us, their glowing red eyes flickering in the darkness. Some walked ahead, some trailed behind, but none spoke to me. I could feel their hesitation, their judgment. I was one of them by blood, but in their eyes, I had chosen Magnus over my own people.

And now, I was a traitor returning home.

By the time we reached the pack’s territory, the tension had thickened. The bonfire in the center of the village crackled, casting long shadows across the clearing. Faces emerged from the dark, some familiar, some unfamiliar, all watching me with unreadable expressions.

A figure stepped forward. Soren. I remember him from my childhood, one of the strongest warriors in the pack. His dark gaze settled on me, hard and unforgiving.

"You shouldn’t be here," he said.

My jaw clenched, but before I could speak, Asher stepped in front of me. "She’s here because I brought her."

Soren crossed his arms, unimpressed. "And why should we trust her now? She abandoned us. She chose him."

Murmurs spread through the pack. I could feel the weight of their resentment pressing down on me like a vice.

"I didn’t choose him," I said, forcing my voice to stay steady. "I was taken."

Soren let out a sharp laugh. "Taken? You were mated to him for years, Astrid. If you wanted to leave, you would have."

I opened my mouth, then shut it. He wasn’t wrong. For so long, I had convinced myself that Magnus loved me, that things would change. I ignored the signs, the betrayal unfolding right in front of me.

But I wouldn’t ignore it anymore.

"You can hate me all you want," I said, meeting Soren’s gaze. "But I’m not here to beg for your forgiveness. I came back because I have nowhere else to go."

Silence. The pack watched, waiting.

Then, a new voice cut through the air. "Then you stand before the Elders."

My stomach twisted as the crowd parted, revealing the three Elders of the Crimson Pack. Their eyes, old and knowing, bore into me as they motioned for me to step forward.

Asher gave me a small nod. "Go."

I swallowed hard and walked toward them.

Inside the Elders' cabin, the air was thick with the scent of burning herbs. The room was dim, lit only by a few flickering candles. The Elders sat in a row, their faces unreadable.

"You have returned," the eldest, Elira, said. "But not as the girl who left."

I forced myself to stand tall. "No."

"You were taken by the Shadow Pack," she continued. "Bound to their Alpha. And yet, you return now. Why?"

I hesitated. "Because I finally see the truth."

Elira exchanged glances with the others. "And what truth is that?"

"That I was never meant to be with Magnus," I said, my voice low. "That I was never his mate. I was just a pawn in his father’s plans."

The words felt bitter on my tongue, but they were true. I had spent years believing Magnus and I were fated. That our bond was real. But I had been wrong.

One of the Elders, a man with a scar across his cheek, nodded slowly. "Then you must reclaim your place. But it will not be given freely."

I clenched my fists. "I don’t expect it to be."

Elira leaned forward. "Then let us see if you can still fight for your pack."

The weight of their words settled over me, but before I could respond, a loud commotion erupted outside. The door burst open, and a young scout rushed in, his face pale.

"Alpha," he said, breathless, looking at Asher. "There's news from the border."

Asher tensed. "What is it?"

The scout hesitated, glancing at me before speaking. "Magnus is looking for her."

My stomach dropped.

"He’s gathering allies," the scout continued. "Rogues. Stragglers from other packs. He’s searching for Astrid. And from what we've heard... he's not coming to beg."

Silence filled the room. I felt my heart hammering against my ribs.

I had walked away. I had given him mercy. But Magnus wasn’t letting me go.

I reached for the necklace hanging around my neck, the one Magnus had given me long ago. For a moment, I held it between my fingers, feeling the weight of everything it represented.

Then, with steady hands, I pulled it off and threw it into the fire.

The flames swallowed it whole, and I whispered the words I should have said long ago.

"I'm not his anymore."