The drive back was suffocating.

The interior of the Range Rover reeked of a she-wolf in heat, It was fermenting in the enclosed space, turning my stomach.

I felt bile rising in my throat.

I rolled down the window, letting the cold wind slap my face, barely suppressing the urge to vomit.

"Why are you opening the window? You'll catch a cold. Werewolves heal fast, but you shouldn't sit in a draft like this." Ethan reached over to close it, his face wearing a mask of impeccable concern.

I turned my head, looking at him with a smile that wasn't quite a smile. "The car smells strange. Like... the musk of a low-rank Omega in heat?"

Ethan’s grip on the steering wheel tightened visibly, his knuckles turning white. He let out a dry, nervous laugh. "How is that possible? We probably just drove past the Slave Market, and the scent drifted in."

"Is that so?" My fingertips traced the leather of the passenger seat. "And here I thought some other bitch had been sitting in my seat, leaving a scent mark she shouldn't have."

Ethan immediately raised three fingers, his expression as solemn as if he were swearing an oath to the Moon Goddess. "Ivy, this passenger seat is your exclusive Luna throne. Besides you, no female is qualified to sit here."

His eyes were so sincere. If I hadn't seen that video, I would have believed him.

Halfway home, Ethan suddenly pulled over to the side of the road.

"Ivy, something urgent came up with the Border Patrol. I need to go handle it. We aren't far from the pack lands; I'll have a Beta guard drive you the rest of the way, okay?"

I looked at his anxious expression, feeling nothing but ice in my heart.

Border Patrol emergency? Please.

It was obvious Daisy had mind-linked him, demanding he get rid of me so she could hop into this "mobile mating shack."

"Sure," I said.

I got out of the car and watched the vehicle—the one that was supposed to belong only to me—carry the Alpha who swore he only loved me. He made a U-turn with desperate urgency, racing toward another Omega’s bed.

That night, Ethan didn't come home.

When he returned the next day, his tie was knotted perfectly, but it couldn't hide the dark red hickey on his collarbone—a mating mark left during the height of passion.

The moment he walked in, he hugged me, nuzzling his chin into the crook of my neck. "Ivy, dealing with those rogues last night was exhausting. I missed you so much."

I fought the urge to shift and rip his throat out. My gaze drifted over his shoulder, landing on the exquisite gift box on the top shelf. "Rough night, huh?"

Ethan let go of me, following my gaze to the box. He asked, a little eagerly, "Ivy, about that gift... can I really not open it now? The moon is beautiful tonight."

"No." I took a step back, creating distance between us. My eyes held a meaningful, mysterious glint. "We agreed on one week."

"Why? Since when are you so principled?" he teased.

"The more precious the sacrifice, the longer the wait. Don't you agree?"

Ethan was curious, but he nodded indulgently. "Alright, I'll listen to my Luna. One week."

6:00 AM.

The silence of the bedroom was shattered by the sharp ring .

Ethan practically ejected from the bed. He grabbed his phone, a flicker of panic crossing his face.

He glanced at me, checking if I was still "asleep," then answered in a hushed voice as he hurried out to the balcony.

I opened my eyes. My wolf hearing sharpened, picking up every sound through the glass doors. I listened to him standing in the freezing wind, his voice so gentle it could drip honey, pleading with whoever was on the other end.

I didn't need to smell the air to know who it was.

Sure enough, a few minutes later, Ethan pushed the door open. As he changed his clothes, he said, "Ivy, what do you want for breakfast?"

I rolled over. "Whatever."

Ethan rushed out the door.

Half an hour later, he returned, looking travel-worn. In his hands were two roasted deer legs that had gone stone cold and a cup of goat milk that had lost all its steam.

"Ivy, the line at that specialty restaurant was too long, so I just bought something from a roadside stall. Eat it while it's... well, try to eat."

Roadside stall. Cold goat milk.

So this was his "deep affection."

I didn't touch the breakfast. I just watched as he took out his phone, snapped a photo of the dry, unappetizing deer legs, and posted it to the Werewolf Social Network.

[Ran across half the territory just to buy Luna breakfast. It was hard work, but as long as she likes it, it's worth it.]

Almost instantly, the post was flooded with likes and comments.

"The Alpha is such a simp for her!"

"Is this what a fated mate bond looks like?"

"Ivy is so lucky, truly blessed by the Moon Goddess!"

Ethan replied to the comments with satisfaction, a smug smile on his lips.

However, I noticed that among all those likes, Daisy's name was missing.

That was because, at this very moment, Daisy was posting a photo in a "Close Friends" group—visible only to him.

The photo showed a steaming, top-tier steak, rare and bloody. The caption read: [Even though he had to cross half the territory, he still delivered the fresh kill straight to me. Love you, my Wolf King.]

The timestamp? One hour ago.

It turned out his "running across half the territory" was to deliver fresh meat to his mistress. On his way back, he just grabbed some cold scraps fit for a stray dog to shut his wife up.

I stared at the cold goat’s milk—thick, pungent with that overpowering gamey stench—and felt the irony slap me hard across the face.

"Why aren't you eating? No appetite?" Ethan put down his phone, asking with feigned concern.

"I'm full."

I stood up. "I'm not going to the Alpha Gathering tonight."

"You have to," Ethan objected immediately. "All the other Alphas are bringing their mates. If you don't go, they'll laugh at me. Besides..."

He paused, his eyes shifting shiftily. "Besides, I want to show them how beautiful my Luna is."

8:00 PM. The Alpha's Private Club.

The VIP room was dimly lit, thick with the smell of cigars and strong liquor.

The moment I pushed the door open, I saw Daisy sitting in the corner.

She was wearing a low-cut silk camisole that clung tightly to her curves, and with a deliberate little shift of her shoulders, she squeezed her full breasts—laughing coquettishly as she chatted up the wealthy Alpha beside her, every move oozing unapologetic allure.

When she saw Ethan walk in with me, her eyes flashed with resentment for a split second before she switched to her innocent, wide-eyed act.

"Hello, Luna. I'm the Alpha's new assistant. He said he was short-handed, so I came to help pour drinks."

I gave a faint nod and didn't say a word.

For two whole hours, Ethan put on the performance of a lifetime.

He cut my steak for me, blocked shots of strong Tequila on my behalf, and even when someone jokingly asked Daisy to sing, he kept his eyes straight ahead, acting as if he didn't know the female at all.

"Damn, Ethan, that self-control is legendary."

"With a high-blood Luna at home, how could any stray she-wolf catch his eye?"

Ethan soaked up his friends' flattery. He wrapped his arm around my waist, looking at me with deep emotion. "Exactly. In my eyes, no one compares to Ivy."

I felt suffocated. I made an excuse and went to the restroom.

I stood in front of the sink for a long time, splashing cold water on my face, trying to wash away the fake smile I had plastered on.

When I returned to the VIP room, my hand had just touched the doorknob when the raucous laughter inside allowed my heightened hearing to pick up every distinct word.

"Ethan, I couldn't ask while Luna was here, but what's the deal with the Omega assistant?"

"Yeah, the way that little chick looked at you... she wanted to eat you alive."

Ethan's scornful laugh drifted out, heavy with intoxication. "Just for fun. Meat delivered to your door—you'd be an idiot not to eat it."

"Aren't you afraid Luna will find out?"

"Her?" Ethan's tone was dismissive. "She's a blockhead. What does she know? She's like a dead fish in bed, absolutely boring. Nowhere near as wild as Daisy."

Immediately after, Daisy's sickly-sweet voice chimed in. "Ethan, you're so bad! You acted so serious in front of Luna earlier; I almost got jealous."

"Be a good girl. Come here and let me kiss you. Holding back earlier was killing me."

Then came the sound of fabric rustling and heavy, breathless moans.

The room erupted in cheers and catcalls.

"Moon Goddess above, Ethan is a legend! Getting handsy right in front of us?"

"Come on, come on, Truth or Dare! Ethan, tell us: do you prefer the holy goddess at home, or the little wild cat in your arms?"

Ethan's voice was muffled, sounding like his face was buried in the woman's chest. "A goddess is for worshiping on a pedestal. But in bed... I prefer a slut."

Boom.

The explosion of laughter from inside the room felt like a series of slaps across my face.

It turned out that in the eyes of his friends, I was just a "blockhead" used for decoration. A joke kept in the dark.

My hand slowly released the doorknob. I didn't barge in with righteous fury. I didn't shift and roar.

I turned around and walked to the balcony at the end of the corridor.

The biting night wind dried the moisture in the corners of my eyes.

Just then, the phone in my pocket vibrated.

It was an unknown number.

"Hello, is this Ms. Aurora?"

The voice on the other end was formal, male, and rigorously professional.

"Speaking."

"Ms. Aurora, I am the human lawyer handling your disassociation from pack affairs. All the cancellation procedures you entrusted to me have been completed."

"The pack real estate under your name, the luxury cars, and the family trust funds have all been liquidated and transferred to a confidential Swiss Bank account. Your identity information within the Werewolf Registry will be formally deleted in two weeks."

"Additionally, the ticket for the private jet to the Neutral Territories has been issued. The flight is scheduled for the early morning, exactly a week from now."

"Do you need to bring any other identification besides your Rogue passport?"

"No, the passport is enough."

As soon as I hung up, I heard footsteps behind me.

"Ivy, why have you been gone so long? What do you need a passport for?" Ethan walked over, reeking of alcohol, and hugged me from behind.

I calmly put my phone away, suppressing my nausea, and didn't push him away. "Nothing. My friend lost her passport; I was just asking how she could replace it."