I let out a humorless laugh. Us. There was no “us” anymore. Not since he chose Selena, the rogue girl with the sickly-sweet scent of artificial perfumes and crocodile tears.
“You’ve been too busy with pack matters—or whatever it is you’ve been doing with her. I didn’t want to bother you with something so trivial.”
His wolf growled faintly at my words, but I didn’t flinch. Let him get mad. I was past caring.
Nicho stepped closer, his voice softening, trying to coax me back. “I’ve been neglecting you. I know that. But we can fix this, can’t we? Once the pack stabilizes, we’ll retake those photos. We’ll fill another album.”
There was a time those words would’ve melted my heart. I would’ve believed him. But not anymore. I couldn’t unsee the way he looked at Selena or forget the scent of her lingering on his clothes.
“Sure,” I said, my tone flat. “If you really want to make it up to me, throw me a proper birthday party for once.”
The request seemed to catch him off guard. For years, my allergies to dairy and certain ingredients meant I’d never been able to enjoy my own celebrations. And Nicho had always been too “busy” to arrange anything special.
His eyes flickered with hesitation, but he nodded. “Of course. Whatever you want.”
Before he could say more, his phone buzzed. The distinctive tone he used only for Selena. He glanced at the screen, his expression tightening. “It’s something urgent from the pack. I’ll be back soon. Don’t wait up.”
The lie was so blatant it almost made me laugh. “Go ahead,” I said, waving him off. “I’m used to it.”
He hesitated for a moment, as if he wanted to say something, but instead, he turned and left, leaving me alone with the dying embers of our past.
The next morning, the mansion buzzed with activity. Party planners filled the space, arranging decorations that felt oddly familiar. By midday, the truth was impossible to ignore—the setup was nearly identical to Selena’s birthday party from two months ago.
And then, as if summoned by my thoughts, she arrived. Dressed in a sleek red dress, her scent wafted through the room, an obnoxious mix of vanilla and floral notes that made my wolf recoil.
Selena sauntered over, a smug smile curling her lips. “I hope you like the decorations,” she said, her voice dripping with fake sweetness. “I designed them myself. Thought they’d suit your… style.”