I remembered the first year of our mating, when I made Draven a packed lunch, I left it there with a note.
He'd come home raging—furious that I’d “tainted” his sacred study space.
But now, Freya's girl juice was smeared across his desk, and all he did was smile like it was the most amusing thing.
Like she had already replaced me.
And maybe… she had.
But I was no longer the same she-wolf he’d once broken.
Now, I had nothing left to lose.
Not the pup he never knew about.
Not the love he threw away.
And certainly not my wolf, who had begun to stir inside me again, for the first time in months.
She was waking.
And this time, I know, we would rise together.
I winced as I saw how Freya playfully nudged Draven’s shoulder, her laughter delicate and falsely sweet—an act she wore like perfume.
The scent of lavender clung to her skin, unnaturally strong, masking something beneath. A human nose might not notice, but mine—sharpened by instinct and years of restraint—caught the bitter trace of wolfsbane hidden in her cologne.
Alpha Draven chuckled, the sound strained, almost mechanical. Then, as though remembering I still existed, he turned to me. “Ella,” he said, his voice dipping into a lower, colder register, “what were you doing barging into my study just now?”
“Retrieving my safe deposit box,” I replied calmly, holding it up. It was a small black case reinforced with silver trim—nothing remarkable. But inside it were the last pieces of the life I had shared with him: our marriage certificate, our household registry, the remnants of a bond that once meant something.
He frowned. His brows tightened the way they always did when his pride was wounded.
“What did you put in there?” he demanded. “You’ve been acting strange lately. Did you buy something behind my back?”
Before I could speak, he strode over and snatched the box from my hands. His hands were warm, but no longer familiar.
He stared at the combination lock, clueless.
That made me pause.
He couldn’t even remember the numbers we had whispered to each other under moonlight the night he claimed me—the night my wolf had stirred beneath my skin for the first time in years.
I met his gaze. “Our wedding anniversary,” I said softly.
His hands stilled.