Debbie’s POV

When I came to, a subtle scent of herbs lingered in the air. I found myself resting on a cushioned bed inside the healer’s hut. The elderly woman tending to me offered a kind smile, her eyes lined with worry.

“You were lucky,” she said, her tone both gentle and reprimanding. “Another few minutes, and we would’ve lost you.”

I tried to speak, but my throat was raw, and only a faint rasp escaped. Though the agonizing pain had passed, an unbearable weariness weighed down my limbs. I reached for my wolf… but felt nothing. She was silent—too weak to answer. We had both been dragged too close to the edge.

“Child,” the healer said, patting my chilly hand softly, “you must never consume anything with berries again. For your kind, it’s a deadly toxin.” She shook her head. “Elisha brought you here, begging for your life. Said you’re Alpha Darrell’s intended. Future Luna.” Her gaze turned pointed. “You have a duty to protect yourself, not just to him, but to the pack.”

Her words were caring, yet they pierced me. Future Luna. Once, that title filled me with pride. Now, it echoed emptily in my soul.

She handed me a glass vial containing a silvery liquid. “Drink this three times daily. Two days, and you’ll be strong again.”

I gave a small nod, my gratitude unspoken. That day passed quietly—I rested, gathered the shreds of my strength, and tried not to think too much. But silence never lasts long.

The door creaked open.

Darrell entered.

His presence once brought warmth, comfort, even joy. Now, it only reopened wounds that hadn’t yet healed. He approached, kneeling beside me and gently taking my hand.

“Debbie,” he whispered. “The Goddess must’ve heard my prayers. I’m so sorry I couldn’t come earlier. Carla’s been unwell—she needed me.”

His words sliced into me like shards of glass. I wanted to scream, to tell him how I’d nearly died while he played guardian to someone else. But I stayed silent.

He reached out and brushed a strand of hair from my face. His touch was achingly familiar. A part of me wished, foolishly, that this moment belonged to just the two of us.

“I’ll come back soon,” he promised, rising to his feet. “But Carla needs me again. She’s Alpha Maxon’s daughter, and I have a responsibility to protect her. I hope you’re not upset. It’s just duty, Debbie. Nothing more.”

He leaned down to press a kiss to my forehead—tender, like old times—and then left without waiting for a response.

He didn’t return.

Elisha later told me that Darrell and Carla had traveled to settle a conflict in another territory. He’d taken her with him—trusted her to stand beside him where I once had.

Alone, I stared at the carved wooden box by my bedside. Inside it were 498 handwritten letters—each one from Darrell, each filled with declarations of love. He once said, when I reached letter number 500, he’d ask me to marry him.

That last letter came six months ago.

My fingers trembled as they grazed the box’s edge. I couldn’t open it. The memories felt too sharp, too unbearable. Instead, I rose to my feet. I needed air. I needed something—anything—that wasn’t this room filled with the ghosts of broken promises.

I headed toward the pack house entrance, hoping the sound of the young wolves I taught might offer distraction. But I froze.

Darrell was there, standing under the warm sun, his laughter echoing through the open air. He was helping Carla carry a basket of apples. His smile—so wide, so carefree—hadn’t looked that genuine in months.

Once, the sight of them together would’ve crushed me.

Now, I just felt… hollow.

Carla spotted me first. Her voice rang out, falsely sweet. “Debbie! Want some apples? Beta Muxim gave them to us. Darrell said you love them.”

Darrell turned, grinning like we were friends. “Debbie loves apple pie,” he chimed in.

I met his gaze, unflinching. “No,” I said. “I don’t like it.”

He blinked. “What? Of course you do. We both—”

“I said no,” I cut in, steady. “You love it. Not me.”

Carla’s expression twisted, a mask of innocence and hurt. “Did I do something wrong? I only wanted to share with you…”

I could see right through her act. Every time I refused her false kindness, Darrell treated me like the villain.

His voice snapped like a whip. “Debbie, what is wrong with you? Carla’s being nice. Could you stop being petty and just try to get along?”

I bit back the storm of emotion threatening to rise. Arguing was useless. I was done being the one who always had to defend herself.

I managed a forced smile and reached for the basket. “Thanks, Carla,” I said, selecting three apples. “I need to get to class. The pups are waiting.”

I turned away, but before I could step forward, Darrell caught my arm.

Debbie's POV

“You’re acting cold, Debbie,” Alpha Darrell said, his voice low but laced with irritation.

“Cold? In what way?” I responded calmly, though I knew exactly what he meant. Carla, standing behind him with her ever-present smug grin, didn’t even try to hide her satisfaction.

“Toward Carla,” he snapped. “How many times do I need to say it? Don’t be cruel to her. You’re constantly envious, and honestly, I’ve had enough of it. You never seem to grasp the situation.” His hand clamped tighter around my arm, sending a jolt of discomfort through me. “Why is this so difficult for you to accept?”

“I’m not envious, Alpha Darrell,” I said flatly, though deep inside, my wolf let out a low growl, itching to retaliate. “I do understand. And it’s fine. Don’t trouble yourself over it.” The words burned as I forced them out, but I kept my composure. I had the urge to tell him it didn’t make a difference anymore—that I was leaving, that I was engaged—but what would be the point? He wouldn’t even blink.

He let go of my arm, and his hand moved to gently touch my cheek. What used to make my heart flutter now left me numb. “Please, Debbie. Trust me. I’d never hurt you. Stop filling your head with doubts about me and Carla.”

I bit the inside of my mouth to hold back a bitter laugh. Trust him? Not hurt me? Those were exactly the things he’d failed at again and again. If those poisonous berries had claimed my life yesterday, I doubted he would’ve even mourned me.

Once I entered the packroom, the children ran up to greet me, their laughter echoing with joy. For a moment, their beaming faces dulled the constant ache in my chest. I used to picture raising pups of my own—Darrell had even whispered dreams of our future together. But like the promises he made, those dreams had turned to ash.

Leaving them would hurt more than I was ready for.

Later that evening, I glanced at my phone and saw yet another message from my parents. They were excited about the wedding preparations—asking what kind of flowers I wanted, what dress style I liked, whether I preferred a crown of blossoms or a flowing veil.

Since my teenage years, I’d always adored the idea of wedding planning. I even took charge of Sinna’s wedding—Darrell’s sister—five years back when she married someone from the Duncan Pack. Now she had two adorable sons and a partner who truly loved her. And me? After a decade spent loving Darrell, all I had were regrets. If I had allowed my parents to choose a mate for me back then, I might already have three children and a husband who valued me. Instead, I was here—discarded and humiliated by the man I once thought would be my forever.

During a trip to the pack market, I purchased small gifts for the children and something for Elisha—one of the few people who still treated me like I mattered. As I returned, two pack warriors noticed my struggle with the packages and wordlessly helped me carry them to the manor. Their silent support touched something fragile in me.

Darrell caught sight of the gifts as I walked in, his gaze immediately hardening. “What’s all this for? Who are you giving them to? And this…” He waved a letter at me, one I instantly recognized by the handwriting. “What’s this about a wedding that the messenger mentioned?”

I reached out and took the letter, my mother’s neat script confirming my guess. “We need to talk, Alpha Darrell,” I said, my voice unwavering despite the emotional storm stirring within me. “About the upcoming marriage—”

Before I could finish, a pack warrior burst into the room.

“Alpha, Carla isn’t in her quarters. We’ve searched the entire packhouse—she’s gone.”

Darrell’s entire demeanor shifted. Panic crossed his features, and without even glancing back at me, he bolted from the room to find Carla. He didn’t say another word. Not even goodbye.

With a heavy heart, I brought the gifts to the children and Elisha, doing my best to smile through the pain.

“You’re leaving, aren’t you?” Elisha asked gently, her voice cracking slightly as she tried not to let the children hear.

“There’s nothing left for me here, Elisha,” I murmured, feeling the lump in my throat grow. “He’s made his choice. I can’t linger in the shadows of what we were.”

“What about the kids? They adore you, Debbie. And I... I don’t know how I’ll manage teaching them alone,” she said softly, her green eyes searching mine, filled with concern and sorrow.

“I’m getting married, Elisha,” I said, though the words felt strange, as if they belonged to someone else. “This place—it’s no longer home to me.”

“To whom?” she asked, her voice tinged with fragile hope. “Is he better than the Alpha?”

I hesitated, unsure how to respond. My wolf was quiet—something she rarely was—and her silence felt like confirmation that this was the path we needed to take. That leaving, painful as it was, was right.

“I pray he is,” I whispered, more to myself than to her. “I truly hope he is.”

Debbie's POV

I had already packed the essentials into my travel bag. It wasn’t a lot—just what I would need moving forward. I deliberately left behind all the clothes and jewelry Darrell had gifted me. I didn’t want to carry any remnants of him with me—neither his scent, his material tokens, nor the hollow promises that once warmed my heart but now made me feel sick.

My departure was set for five days from now. That gave me a small window—just enough time to bid farewell to the ones who truly mattered to me, especially the children.

I glanced once more at the collection of letters he had written to me before everything between us crumbled. At one time, those letters held meaning. Now? They were nothing but beautifully crafted lies etched in ink. Promises that were made only to be broken—something Darrell had become very good at.

One by one, I ripped the letters apart. The tearing sound brought a strange sense of satisfaction, as if each shred was lifting a burden off my chest. I was nearing the last few when his voice pierced the air—sharp, loud, and rattled with panic.

“What are you doing, Debbie?!”

I turned, startled, as he stormed into the room, his eyes darting between the torn fragments in my hands and those already thrown into the waste bin. He lunged forward, grabbing the letter I held and digging through the trash for the others, his face twisted in both disbelief and frustration.

“Why did you destroy them?” he demanded, his voice cracking with emotion as he stared at the shredded papers like they were sacred relics. “Is this because of Carla? Don’t they mean anything to you anymore? I wrote those for us—for our love, our memories, Debbie!”

His fingers trembled as he tried to piece the torn papers together, desperation in every movement. I almost felt sorry for him. Almost.

“Say something, Debbie!” he yelled, seizing my arms and forcing me to meet his gaze. “Why can’t you just understand? You and your jealousy are ruining everything!”

I stared into his striking blue eyes, my expression calm, my voice composed. “You’ve got it all wrong, Alpha. I’m not jealous,” I said steadily. “The letters were damaged—bookworms had gotten to them. They were full of holes, falling apart. There was nothing left worth saving.”

That was partly true. Some letters were indeed ruined, but the real reason I didn’t preserve them was that I no longer cared to.

He looked again at the torn pieces in his hands, the fury in his expression softening into reluctant acceptance. “You could’ve let me deal with it,” he muttered, dragging a hand through his already messy hair. “I could’ve saved them. Tearing them up... it’s like you’re ripping apart everything we’ve built.”

“Some things can’t be fixed, Darrell,” I responded softly, forcing a faint smile. “Sometimes, you have to release the past to find peace.”

He let out a breath, eyes still lingering on the destroyed letters with lingering regret. “I can write new ones,” he whispered, almost to himself. “I’m sorry if I overreacted. I just thought we’d read them again at our wedding.”

Wedding. The word struck me like a slap. It tasted bitter, like a lie I had once convinced myself was sweet.

I remained silent, and he noticed. He reached up and cradled my face with a tender hand, his touch warm against my skin. “Are you okay?” he asked, his voice threaded with concern. “I know I haven’t been around much. Carla needed my protection. She almost got taken by rogues from a rival pack. I won’t let her be in danger again. But you’re the only one I love, Debbie. You’re the one I want to marry. Surely, you know that?”

I nodded. What else could I do? It was what he wanted to hear.

He leaned in, kissing me gently—just a brush of lips against mine before pulling away. “Tell me, Debbie,” he murmured softly, “how can I make this right?”

I looked away from him and slipped out of his grasp. “I want a celebration,” I said, my voice light and almost playful.

“A celebration?” he repeated, an amused smile forming. “You and your love for parties and dancing. When would you like it?”

He didn’t realize the truth. I had never enjoyed those things. I only acted like I did because he loved them. I wanted to be part of his world, to belong there. But even after all that, it was never enough. My chest tightened with that sad realization.

“Tomorrow night,” I told him, stretching my lips into a smile. “And I want you to dance with me.”

His grin faltered briefly, but he gave a small nod. “If that’s what will make you happy, then I’ll be there. We’ll dance, just like old times—a night to remember.”

I wanted to believe him. I really did.

He pressed a kiss to my forehead, lingering a beat longer than usual. “Oh, before I forget,” he added hesitantly, not quite meeting my eyes, “I won’t be staying tonight. Something urgent came up in Werewolf City. But I’ll be back before the celebration, I promise.”

Of course he wouldn’t be staying. The whispers around the pack had already reached my ears—he was taking Carla with him. The two of them were headed to the capital together.

I forced myself to sound cheerful. “Take care, Alpha,” I said, masking my heartbreak behind a carefully composed tone. “And don’t forget about tomorrow night’s celebration.”