After His Amnesia, I Severed Our Mate Bond

March 1, 2023. I set the breakfast I’d prepared on the dining table, the scent of freshly baked bread mingling with the crisp morning air. Evander, the Alpha of the Silver Moon Pack, had just woken up, his broad shoulders filling the doorway as he entered the room. His presence was commanding, as it always was, but today it felt colder, more distant.

I offered him a smile, but he didn’t even glance my way as he took his seat at the head of the table. I let it slide; ever since Zayla, a Delta from the Crimson Fang Pack, had started whispering about ending her bond with her mate, Evander had been withdrawing from me, his Luna, as if I were nothing more than a shadow in his pack.

I didn’t believe for a moment that his amnesia was genuine. Over the past few days, I’d tested him, subtly probing his memory, and I was certain he was pretending. His cold demeanor, his so-called memory loss—it was all a ploy to force me to be the one to initiate the separation. The mate bond between us, once strong and unbreakable, now felt like a frayed thread, and he was tugging at it, waiting for it to snap.

His question from yesterday still rang in my ears, mocking me. “Was it love that brought us together?” he’d asked, his tone dripping with condescension. As if the Moon Goddess’s decree could be so easily dismissed.

We ate in silence, the clink of silverware against plates the only sound in the room. As I peeled an apple, the knife moving steadily in my hands, Evander’s phone buzzed on the table. He glanced at the screen, and his expression shifted instantly, a smile lighting up his face, warm and genuine in a way it hadn’t been with me in weeks.

“Zayla, hey,” he said, his voice softening. “I’m up. My head’s still a bit fuzzy, but nothing major. Make sure to dress warmly. Yeah, I’m at the den; drop by whenever.”

I froze mid-peel, my fingers tightening around the knife. Should I really step back and let them flaunt their rekindled bond in front of me? As Luna, I had my pride, and the thought of enduring their shameless display again made my stomach churn.

After breakfast, I cleared the table and told Evander I was heading out. “Alright,” he said, his attention already drifting. “Zayla’s coming over to take care of me later, so no need to worry.”

I nodded, forcing a smile onto my face. “That’s good. I’m not worried then. I’ll be back tonight; I have something to discuss with you after dinner.”

His eyes met mine, searching for something—perhaps guilt, perhaps hesitation. But he wouldn’t find it. My gaze was steady, my resolve unshaken.

“Okay,” he said, his tone neutral, but I could feel the undercurrent of tension between us, the weight of what was to come hanging in the air like a storm waiting to break.