As I stood to leave, Dean’s chair scraped against the floor as he jumped to his feet.

“Jessica!” His voice was loud, urgent, and laced with a tone that made my instincts as an Omega twinge. The other pack members in the restaurant turned their heads, their curiosity prickling the air like static. I paused for a moment, my heart pounding, but I forced myself to keep walking toward the door.

When I pushed it open, the rain was already pouring down in sheets, drenching the streets of our pack’s territory. Dean had the only umbrella. I hesitated, weighing whether to brave the storm or wait, but the thought of standing there like a helpless pup made me cringe.

Before I could decide, Dean was beside me, his hand gripping my arm with a firmness that was both familiar and irritating.

“Jessica, you puzzle me.” His brow furrowed in frustration and confusion, but there was no softness in his voice, no trace of the tenderness that once made me feel safe. Behind him stood Lucia, her posture elegant and her smile gentle, as if she were the Luna of this moment.

“Jessica, don’t be upset. Forget about the stew. I’ll have Dean take you home first, then you two can talk things over.” Her voice was calm, almost soothing, but her eyes—those sharp, calculating eyes—betrayed a smug pride that made my stomach churn.

Dean let go of my arm and turned to Lucia, his concern for her evident even in the way he leaned toward her. “What do you mean, take her home first? It’s pouring out here, and you don’t have an umbrella. How will you get back?”

His words were like a slap. My wolf whimpered softly in the back of my mind, a quiet reminder of the bond that still lingered between us, frayed and fragile but not yet broken.

After a moment of hesitation, Dean turned back to me, his expression torn. “Jessica, please understand. Lucia isn’t well, and she can’t get soaked. I’ll drive her home first and come back for you.”

I stared at him, my chest tightening as I watched my mate—my former mate—gently guide another woman under the umbrella, shielding her from the rain. They walked away together, their silhouettes blurred by the downpour. Lucia’s head tilted slightly toward him, her movements graceful and deliberate.

I stood there, the rain soaking through my clothes, my mind reeling. Lucia couldn’t get wet because of her health, but was I supposed to stand there like a fool, waiting for Dean to remember me? This time, I refused to wait. I turned back into the restaurant and borrowed an old umbrella from the owner, a kind elder who gave me a sympathetic look but didn’t say a word.

As I stepped back into the rain, the scene felt eerily familiar. It had happened before—Dean asking me to wait, promising to come back, only to forget me entirely. Last time, I had stood in the storm, my loyalty to him outweighing my own discomfort. But now, the thought of repeating that mistake made my wolf growl softly in protest.

Making the same mistake once might be forgivable. Repeating it? That was just foolish. I tightened my grip on the umbrella and walked away, the rain masking the tears that threatened to fall. Dean might have been my mate once, but I wasn’t his to command anymore.

After I got home and showered, drying my wet hair, Dean finally returned, soaked through. The bottoms of his pants were drenched from the rain, and as soon as he saw me, he slammed his umbrella down, glaring at me with the kind of authority that only a Beta could wield. His aura, usually calm and composed, was now sharp and impatient, pressing against me like a weight.

“Jessica, are you messing with me? Do you have any idea how long I’ve been searching for you? It was pouring rain, and I kept looking for you everywhere! I even thought you…”

I calmly set my towel aside and picked up his umbrella, putting it away. “It’s just a bit of rain; why are you making such a fuss? Don’t forget, two weeks ago, you left me standing in the rain for two whole hours.”

Dean stood there, his broad shoulders stiffening as he clenched his fists. His dark eyes, usually so commanding, now flickered with frustration. The sweet aroma wafted from the kitchen—the spiced honey tea was almost ready. Without further comment to him, I went into the kitchen, poured some into a mug, and sat at the dining table, sipping slowly. Spiced honey tea is good for the stomach; I should drink more.

Dean frowned, his jaw tightening. “I’ve told you, I can’t stand ginger.”

“But I do.” I looked up and smiled, though my wolf stirred uneasily in the back of my mind, sensing the tension.

Dean doesn’t like ginger, cilantro, or scallions—my all-time favorites. To me, these are essential for bringing flavor to any dish, and without them, something always seems lacking. Changing someone’s habits isn’t easy, especially when it means going against their innate preferences. Yet since we started dating, I stopped adding these to any meal, always deferring to his tastes as a Beta should.

After I spoke up, Dean was visibly unhappy. He sat irritably on the sofa, his large frame taking up most of the space, and repeatedly flicked his lighter open and shut. When he’s worked up, he unconsciously fiddles with it, and the clicking sound filled the room, sharp and unnerving.

“Jessica, what’s going on with you? You’ve been acting strange since the hot pot dinner. Is it just because I didn’t consider you and chose a spicy one?”

Is it because of the spicy hot pot? Maybe it is, maybe it isn’t. I’ve been compromising for so long, constantly giving up, and suddenly, I’m just tired. I’ve unexpectedly felt the urge to end this relationship, though my wolf whimpered softly, tugging at the bond that still lingered between us.

“Gamma Lucia is moving abroad for good. This is her last visit back and she won't be staying long. She poses no threat to our relationship. She’s an old friend, and I was just helping her out, asking you to make allowances for her. What’s the big deal? Why do you have to make everyone unhappy?”

Am I the one causing unhappiness with my unreasonable behavior? But when I’m silent, when I’m compromising, who cares about my sadness? Why must it always be me who sacrifices for the happiness of others? I felt my wolf growl faintly, a rare moment of defiance, but I pushed it down, unwilling to let it surface.

Dean’s tone softened slightly, though his aura remained heavy. “You know how it is, Jessica. As a Beta, I have responsibilities. Gamma Lucia is important to the pack, and I can’t just ignore her. But you’re my mate. You should understand that.”

I looked at him, my heart aching as the bond between us pulsed faintly, a reminder of what we once had. But I couldn’t ignore the truth anymore. “I do understand, Dean. I’ve always understood. But understanding doesn’t mean I have to keep sacrificing myself.”

He stared at me, his expression unreadable, and for a moment, I thought he might argue. But then he sighed, running a hand through his damp hair, and looked away. The silence between us was heavy, filled with unspoken words and unresolved pain.

I ignored him and quietly finished the spiced honey tea. His puzzled eyes followed me as I silently retreated to the bedroom. The window was open, and at some point, a gentle snowfall had started outside. I gazed at this unfamiliar territory of the Crimson Fang Pack, and suddenly it felt so cold.

Years ago, with a heart full of warmth, I had followed Dean Simmons, the Beta of our Silver Moon Pack, to this new pack where I knew no one. As an Omega, adjusting to the hierarchy here had been difficult, but Dean had been my anchor. Six years have passed since then, and that once fiery heart had slowly grown cold and silent from compromise and insecurity. I thought that by staying by his side, he would eventually see me. But the mate bond isn't logical; effort doesn't change it, nor does humble flattery. The truth is, humble love cannot flourish in our world. It only nurtures relentless hurt and oblivious arrogance.

I pulled my phone from my pocket and scrolled through the recent messages from my father. "Jessica, just a week until Thanksgiving. When are you and Dean coming home? I'd like to prepare ahead of time." "You've been together for six years now. This visit, your father plans to discuss your marking ceremony with him."

Since my mother's passing, my father, a respected elder in our pack, had become much quieter, and my mate bond had become his sole concern. Dean and I have been together for six years, yet he has never brought up the topic of formalizing our bond. I've tried to hint at it, asking things like, "When will you come home with me?" He always dodged the question, changing the subject.

It was only after persistent questioning and even getting upset that he reluctantly agreed to come home with me this year for the holidays. The cold air nipped at my nose as I took a deep breath, rubbing my aching sinuses. Now I understood that my father’s hopes might be dashed.

My wolf stirred within me, a quiet whimper of understanding. She had always sensed Dean's distraction, his attention drifting toward Lucia Weaver, the high-ranking Gamma who seemed to effortlessly command his admiration. Even as a Beta, Dean's aspirations often seemed to reach beyond our bond, toward status and power that an Omega like me could never provide.

I curled into myself, feeling the weight of our pack's hierarchy pressing down on me. In the Silver Moon Pack, I had been just another Omega, but here in the Crimson Fang Pack, I felt invisible, overshadowed by Lucia's grace and status. My father had warned me about leaving our pack, about the challenges I would face as an Omega in a new territory. But I had been too blinded by love to listen.

The snowfall outside grew heavier, blanketing the territory in a thick layer of white. I shivered, pulling the blanket tighter around me. My wolf's presence in my mind was a small comfort, a reminder that I wasn't entirely alone. But even she couldn't erase the growing certainty that Dean and I were drifting apart, our bond fraying under the weight of neglect and unspoken truths.