My mate was an honest wolf who didn't know the first thing about romance. No moonstone band at our mating ceremony. Not a single bloom in five cycles. In our den at night, he was a plank of wood.

When I finally carried his pup and asked him to come to my heat-carrying examination at the Healing Hall, he frowned like I was asking too much：

“Next time, okay? I've got to keep grinding so you and the pup can have a good life.”

The other she-wolves all said the same thing：“Lore-keeper Ashthorne stays in the Lore-Hall until the moon is high every night, earning enough to feed a litter. He's loyal, he doesn't stray. You should be grateful.”

I told myself the same thing. He just wasn't wired for romance.

Then I walked out of the Healing Hall alone after my examination, and my feet stopped dead.

Across the open ground, Roderic Ashthorne was carefully helping a young performing Omega into a sleek black obsidian carriage.

This wolf who had shared a cramped old den with me for five cycles was dressed head to toe in the finest pelts and fabrics, a master-crafted timepiece on his wrist, every hair in place.

Nine hundred and ninety-nine roses nearly buried Seraphine Velvetmoor whole. He leaned down and kissed her.

That face, always so flat and indifferent, wore an expression I had never once seen: reverent, doting, utterly tender.

I stood frozen at the edge of the path, one hand over my five-moon belly, tears blurring everything. Somewhere deep inside me, my wolf went very still, the way a creature goes still when it scents danger on the wind.

That night, I logged into a second account on the spirit network and pulled up the feed Roderic had blocked me from.

A ten-carat moonstone ring, slid onto her finger as he knelt. A cycle's worth of journeys across distant territories……

He was never a poor lore-keeper. He was never cold by nature.

His generosity, his romance, had simply never been meant for me.

I wiped my eyes and reached for my crystal communicator：

“I accept the offer. I'll lead the Silvercrest Pack's vast territory-strengthening endeavor.”

In five days I would cross the ocean and disappear from his life.

1.

It was the blocked feed that finally showed me: my mate wasn't just a humble lore-keeper. He was a co-owner of one of the great packs.

His yearly take wasn't the pittance he'd told me. It was a fortune in gold moons.

A cycle ago, Seraphine Velvetmoor had come to his Lore-Hall to study for a performance. That was how they met.

Good-morning and good-night sendings every single day since.

She was often away on distant ground, but she sent him everything：trips to the finest markets, her morning brews, glamorous images from her performances.

No matter what she posted, Roderic never left her hanging.

One image, ten thousand gold moons. A reward for sharing her day.

And when I shared something with him? The same line, every time：

“Aurora, I'm teaching. We'll talk when I'm done.”

To keep Seraphine happy, he threw luxuries at her like they cost nothing.

On my Moon Blessing Day, he'd given me something once too. A bracelet. He said it had cost him two moons' wages.

I cried so hard that day. I was so moved.

Now I knew the truth. It was a trinket Seraphine had tossed aside as rubbish.

Had he been laughing at me the whole time? His pathetic, gullible mate?

Then came the thousandth image in the feed. Roderic on one knee, sliding a moonstone ring onto Seraphine's finger.

“I'll protect your future. That's my promise.”

I looked down at my own bare ring finger, and the pain drove through my chest like a thousand needles. My wolf made a sound I'd never heard it make before, low and broken, scratching at the inside of my ribs.

My hands shaking, I tapped the latest update.

It was Seraphine's heat-pregnancy confirmation from the moon-healer.

My mind went blank.

Roderic had given her a fine-blooded courser to celebrate：

“Only the finest things are worthy of what you're going through to carry our pup.”

And my “reward” for carrying his pup?

Washing his worn things by hand for five cycles straight so he could save a few gold moons.

Footsteps at the den door. Roderic was home.

He'd changed back into his threadbare old tunic, fraying at the edges. Behind those plain spectacles his face still looked honest, decent. But now all I could see was a wolf in sheep's clothing.

When he noticed my red-rimmed eyes, he paused, then quickly crossed the room and pulled me into his arms.

“What's wrong? Did something come up at the examination?”

I didn't answer. He sighed and leaned in to kiss me.

The scent rolling off him struck me before his lips could. It was wrong. Cedar gone slightly sour, warm copper, and beneath it all a cloying sweetness that masked something rotten. Layered over it, sharp and foreign, hung overripe jasmine and sugared honey turning to decay. My stomach turned. A growl rose in my chest and I swallowed it down.

“One of my young lore-students made a mess in the Hall. I had to clean it up.”

“How about a feast of fine roasted game tomorrow? We can call it a makeup meal for our mating anniversary. Sound good?”

“Don't bother. I'm not worthy of anything that costly.”

I turned away from his lips and stepped out of his arms.

Last cycle on this same date, I sat in a feasting hall waiting for him for five hours. When he finally answered the communicator, his voice was nothing but irritation：

“Didn't I tell you I'm running a working of lore? Stop bothering me.”

As if he'd completely forgotten what day it was.

So he remembered after all. Only this time he felt uneasy enough to think about "making it up to me."

“Aurora, what is your problem? I'm laying out for a grand feast and you're still not satisfied? What exactly do you want from me?”

Pure annoyance on his face, as if I were the one being unreasonable.

I had followed this wolf for years without so much as claiming a single decent garment for myself.

One feast of fine game. Compared to everything he gave Seraphine, what was that?

I was about to speak when his communicator chimed.

He glanced at the crystal, and every crease of irritation vanished.

“Roderic, the pup kicked me… my belly hurts. Can you come stay with me?”

A sweet, breathy voice leaked from the stone.

Roderic panicked. He turned and headed straight for the door.

Only at the threshold did he seem to remember I existed, not even looking back：“Emergency at the Lore-Hall. I've got to go. Get some sleep.”

I watched the wolf and all his lies disappear through the door, and I laughed until the tears came.

Five more days. Then you won't have to sneak around anymore. I'll set you free.

Half a turn of the moon later, Seraphine's feed on the spirit network updated.

“How does this wolf love me so much~”

In the crystal recording, Seraphine was doubled over with heat-sickness. Roderic, who could not abide a speck of filth, caught her sickness in his bare hands without a second of hesitation.

I thought of a few weeks past, when I was sick all over the den floor. He didn't even try to hide his disgust.

I begged him to take me to the Healing Hall. He yanked his hand out of mine：

“I have an important Council review today. If I miss it, I might lose my standing. Take a carriage. Be good.”

I took a long breath and told myself:

It's fine. From now on, I'll love myself the way he never bothered to.

I saved every image and every crystal-recording. The next morning, I went straight to a Beta advocate of the Pack Council.

Roderic didn't come home to our den until the afternoon.

"Lore-work ran too deep into the night, so I just slept at the Lore-Hall. We're feasting at my parents' den tonight. Go change."

He held out a new gown. It was beautiful, woven by a craft-house he'd never once been willing to spend a single moon-credit on for me before.

The old me would have thrown her arms around him in delight.

I just took it quietly and murmured: "Okay."

Roderic frowned, looking me over:

"You don't like it? That gown cost over a thousand gold moons."

Yes. Too late. No gift beneath the Moon Goddess could make me happy now.

He had no idea.

That morning, on my way to the advocate's den, I'd caught his scent next door at the territory-holdings hall, where he stood touring a riverside den with Seraphine Velvetmoor. His scent reached me first, that expensive cedar gone slightly sour, and beneath it the cloying sweetness I had never let myself name. My wolf went still inside me, hackles lifting at something that didn't smell right.

A sprawling riverfront den, tens of millions in moon-credits. Seraphine said "I love it," and he sealed the claim without blinking.

She rose on her toes and pressed her nose to his cheek, beaming. He smiled gently and smoothed the hair from her forehead.

The handsome lore-keeper and the beautiful performing Omega. A perfect match.

If only this man weren't my mate.

I'd once dreamed of a den by the river too, even a small one.

I'd clung to Roderic's arm and begged:

"The water shines so beautifully under the moon. Wouldn't it be wonderful if we could live there?"

He hadn't even looked up from the lore-scrolls he was marking:

"Do you have any idea what riverfront dens cost? You don't even hold a place in the endeavor. How am I supposed to afford that on a lore-keeper's share?"

I'd pouted and suggested a slow blood-oath of payment. He'd erupted:

"Aurora, I said no!"

"What's wrong with our den? You don't have the standing of an Alpha's mate, but you've sure caught the sickness for it!"

So it was never about the price. And he knew exactly how beautiful the water shone.

I was just the one who didn't deserve it.

I swallowed the pain twisting through my chest, lifted my crystal communicator, recorded him claiming that riverside den, and walked into the advocate's den.

That evening, the last feast at the Ashthorne den. Goblets touched, laughter rose easy and warm around the long table, the scent of roasted game thick in the air.

I stood up.

I pushed a bond-rejection oath across the table, right over the haunch Roderic was carving.

"Roderic. I want a bond rejection."

The air at the table went dead.

"Carrying a pup's made you lose your mind? Where do you get off howling about rejection!" Brunhilde Ashthorne was the first to recover, her voice shrill and cutting, the bitter clove of her scent sharpening across the table.

Roderic's hand froze around his knife.

A long moment passed before he looked up at me, brow creased deep: "What are you making a scene about now?"

"I'm not making a scene."

I clenched my teeth and confronted him about Seraphine Velvetmoor.

He rubbed his temples, looking thoroughly put-upon:

"Seraphine was only collecting some reference lore from the Hall. I helped her a little, that's all."

"You wanted a pup. I gave you one. So what exactly is your problem?"

One word. Unreasonable. And every grievance I carried was stuffed right back inside me.

Brunhilde's voice rose to a bark: "This is what happens when a she-wolf's life has been too soft. It's made her completely out of control!"

Reynard Ashthorne rolled his eyes in open contempt:

"Every wolf in the territory knows you've been living off my son since the mating. Walk out that door, and you're just some used-up Omega no pack would take."

Roderic's older brother set down his goblet, voice dripping with scorn:

"A she-wolf who acts up like this? Who besides Roderic could stand the stench of it."

"That's enough."

Roderic cut them off and turned to his parents: "Aurora is still your daughter by bond. She's upset, that's why she's howling about rejection. Once I explain things, she'll settle."

Instantly the whole table rallied around his "defense" of me, praising him as the perfect mate, calling me an ungrateful drain on the bloodline.

They'd all forgotten. I hold a Lore-Master rank from the Lore-Keepers' Circle, earned in the pureblood Frostmoon line.

After the mating, Roderic said he didn't want me known beyond our den. And because I loved him more than anything, I became a mate who served and nothing more.

What he never knew was that for cycles, the strongest packs across every territory had sent envoys to me, begging me to lead their strengthening endeavors. I turned every one of them away.

I never imagined that everything I gave up would become the silver blade his family used against me.

"Roderic's already shielding you. Quit while you're ahead and stop being so ungrateful!"

They thought I'd back down after all that.

I didn't.

I pushed the Blood Oath of rejection closer：

“No explanations needed. Sign, Roderic.”

He stared for two full seconds, then let out a cold laugh：

“Don't be stupid. Walk out that door and you can't even feed yourself.”

I looked at the face in front of me, so familiar yet so foreign, and felt a disappointment I had never known before. Beneath my skin my wolf went very still, the way she did when something she'd trusted turned strange.

So even he saw me that way.

Then why was I still bending over backward for this?

I was about to speak when his communicator chimed at his waist.

He answered, and his expression shifted：“Don't be scared. I'm coming right now.”

Then he looked at me, impatient：

“Seraphine's being harassed by some rogues. I have to go.”

“I've been good enough to you all these cycles. Seraphine and I are just friends. Don't you dare start this again.”

He swept the rejection papers into the hearth-bin and slammed the den door on his way out.

Brunhilde watched him go and let out a sharp snort, dry oak and cold ash curling off her with the contempt：“Ungrateful little wretch. Get out of my den.”

I didn't bother acknowledging the insults at my back. I walked straight out.

It wasn't until I reached the ridge road that I realized Roderic had already taken the carriage to fetch Seraphine.

He couldn't bear the thought of her getting hurt at all, yet he'd forgotten I was carrying his pup.

And he'd forgotten that five cycles ago, kneeling at my parents' burial cairns beneath the moon, he'd sworn before the Goddess to protect me for the rest of my life.

Maybe the vow had been sincere at the time. Too bad hearts change.

The person who promised to protect me was the one who hurt me the most.

The territory edge was remote. Not a single hired carriage passed the whole stretch.

I stared down the pitch-black mountain road, clenched my fists, and started walking.

By the time my legs felt like lead, my communicator buzzed with a message from an unknown sending-stone.

It was Seraphine.

“Did you and Roderic have a fight? He looked awful when he got here.”

“He's in a much better mood now, though. I took very good care of him.”

In the crystal-image she'd attached, a man stood with his back to the lens, water sluicing over him. Claw-marks streaked across his back, and the steam did nothing to hide that tall, familiar frame. His scent even carried faint through the image somehow in my memory, cedar gone sour, that cloying sweetness I'd once mistaken for warmth.

I saved the image without a word and called a friend who tracked secrets for coin.

“You said you had dirt on Seraphine Velvetmoor? I'll buy it. Whatever it costs.”

“And dig into my mate's holdings while you're at it.”

It took me four full hours to walk back to the den. The instant I turned the latch, I heard laughter inside.

“Just relax and stay here. Nobody's going to bother you.”

Roderic's voice. Soft. Gentle.

I pushed the door open. Seraphine was on the couch. Roderic stood over her holding a bowl of something rich and strengthening, spooning it carefully to her lips：

“The healer said you unsettled the pup. Stay still, I've got it.”

I stood there, staring at the two of them, and a sharp pain pushed through my chest, as if the den I'd lived in for five cycles had really been theirs all along. My wolf pressed low in my ribs and would not lift her head.

Seraphine spotted me and immediately stood：

“Aurora, you're back.”

She still had that flawless skin, that perfect face. The faint reek of overripe jasmine and sugared honey clung to her, and not a trace of pup-scent under it. She didn't carry as though she'd quickened at all.

Meanwhile the heat-carrying had wrecked me. My once-clear complexion had broken out, I'd gained over twenty pounds, and the face caught in the polished glass cabinet was oily and hollowed out.

Roderic set the bowl down and glanced at me, his tone flat：

“Seraphine's den was sniffed out by some obsessive admirers. I told her she could stay with us a few days.”

Seraphine came over and reached for my hand：

“I was just so scared, and Roderic insisted on bringing me here. You don't mind, right?”

I shook her hand off and stared at her, cold.

“You're a known performer. You think luring a mated wolf is something to be proud of?”

“That's not what this is, I……”

Seraphine turned to Roderic with wounded eyes, her lashes already glistening, a tear about to fall.

He pulled her behind him instantly and fixed me with a hard stare, a low growl threading beneath his words：“I told you, there's nothing between me and Seraphine. Can you stop with the pointless jealousy?”

The way he shielded her from me made me feel like I was the shameless rival omega.

I swallowed the burn in my nose and pulled out the rejection papers I'd fished back out of the hearth-bin, every word deliberate.

“I'm not jealous. I'm giving you what you want.”

My eyes, steady and unblinking, held his.

“Aurora……”

His heartbeat stuttered without warning, and he reached for me.