Without looking up, he waved a hand as if swatting away an insect. “Do as you wish,” he muttered, eyes never leaving the screen.
I drew in a deep breath, forcing myself forward. “And since I’ll be gone for a while…what about dissolving our bond?”
I expected him to pause, to glance at me, perhaps ask why. But he didn’t even flinch.
“No problem,” he murmured, still scrolling, utterly indifferent.
A mixture of relief and sorrow washed over me. There it was: the undeniable truth that I had been nothing in his life, a fixture easily removed.
He hadn’t noticed I had ceased preparing his things, or drawing his baths, handing all tasks to the den staff instead. The demands he once placed on me had vanished, and he hadn’t even blinked.
“Very well,” I said, pushing back my chair. My breakfast sat untouched. I could no longer summon an appetite.
My eyes fell on his communicator, glowing with a message thread labeled “My Lily.” The name burned like a brand—everything in his world, his devotion, his loyalty, it all belonged to her.
A call came through, and he answered without hesitation. “I’ll be there in a minute,” he said, voice smooth, obedient, entirely devoted.
A bitter smile tugged at my lips. At last, I understood what it truly meant to stand in the place I’d always occupied: invisible, replaceable, and unclaimed in the heart of the wolf I had loved.
After breakfast, I made my way to campus for the graduation ceremony, my emotions tangled between pride and a quiet, gnawing sorrow.
This day marked the culmination of my years at the Rhode Island School of Design, a path I had devoted my every thought and effort to. Soon, I would leave for Italy, to chase a life that belonged entirely to me.
But as I stood there, diploma in hand, surrounded by a swarm of graduates with their families, the familiar ache of loneliness crept in.
Around me, mates and elders hugged their younglings, snapping photos, their laughter ringing through the air. It was a day built for shared joy—and yet, I floated alone amid it all, a lone wolf in a sea of paired packs.
I shook my head slightly, forcing a smile. “This is how it always is, Toni. No need to grieve that Lorenz isn’t here,” I murmured, drawing a steadying breath.
It was just another day alone, after all.