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.

A young she-wolf had once set her sights on Roderic. When I caught the scent of it on him, I wouldn't let it go. I kept asking, kept pushing, and he gave me a full week of silence for it.

After that, the smallest thing could set my nerves on edge, my wolf pacing under my skin at every shift in his scent.

This time, he'd assumed at first that "bond rejection" was just another bid for attention.

Now he was confused. Why wasn't I clashing with Seraphine? Why wasn't I even baring my teeth?

What he didn't understand was that jealousy had lost all meaning.

The harder I fought, the further his heart tilted toward Seraphine and her soft, wounded act.

More than that, I simply didn't care anymore.

Just as Roderic was about to reach for me, Seraphine let out a sharp cry:

"Roderic, my stomach hurts so bad!"

His expression changed instantly. He pulled his hand back, scooped her up, and rushed for the door.

"I'm taking Seraphine to the Healing Hall. We'll talk when I get back!"

He looked frantic, cradling her like she was something precious.

I slammed the blood-oath papers down on the low table, turned, and went upstairs to pack.

Late that night, Roderic climbed into bed and wrapped his arms around me from behind. Beneath the cedar of his scent, that sour, cloying rot lingered, and my wolf curled away from it.

"Aurora, I know I've been neglecting you lately. I know you're upset."

"But Seraphine and I really are just friends. Her mate's away across the far territories, and she's carrying a pup with no one to look after her. That's the only reason I let her into the den, just to keep her safe for now."

I lay silent in the dark.

Did he actually believe that after what I'd seen with my own eyes, I'd still swallow his lies?

"Once this whole thing with the obsessed she-wolf blows over, she'll go. I promise. Everything will go back to normal."

His voice dropped lower, softer: "Aurora, I love you."

He sounded exactly the way he used to, same warmth, same voice, as if nothing had changed.

All I felt was disgust.

Maybe the tenderness was real. But so was the pup he'd made with someone else.

I wrenched myself free of his arms. I couldn't stand another second of his touch.

I could feel his gaze lingering on my back for a long time.

The next morning, I woke to the smell of cooking drifting up through the den.

I walked into the main room and found Roderic, who had never once set foot near the hearth, wearing an apron, carrying a bowl of stewed fish to Seraphine.

"The healer said more fish stew makes the pup stronger."

Seraphine spotted me and waved with a bright smile:

"Aurora, come join us! Roderic was up before first light making this. You're so lucky, a hearth-cooked meal like this every morning."

Roderic's hands went still.

I gave a faint smile: "He's never once cooked for me."

I glanced at the stew. My stomach turned, the smell sitting wrong in the back of my throat, and I headed for the washroom.

"I can't stand the smell of fish. Never could."

Seraphine followed me in. Under her sugared scent, that thread of tin sharpened, and a growl I didn't let surface stirred low in my chest.

Her face was all sincerity: "Aurora, I've never wanted to come between you two. Please don't overthink this."

The moment the door closed behind her, the mask dropped: "If you're going to leave, leave already. He stopped caring about you a long time ago."

Pity and triumph flickered together in her eyes.

"Did you know? He's already sworn his inheritance. Every holding goes to me and our pup. As for you and your whelp, you can spend the rest of your lives rotting in this run-down corner of the territory."

"Bond-betrayal really is your one true calling, isn't it."

I met her gaze. My voice was calm, but it cut.

The color drained from Seraphine's face.

I lowered my voice further:

"Roderic may not know what you really are. I know exactly what you are."

"I can walk away. But don't push me again."

A beat later, Seraphine's lips slowly curved into a smile, quiet, unreadable, and promising nothing good.