After His Betrayal, I Rejected the Bond

The night before our marking ceremony, Sienna Collins, Lincoln Taylor’s ex-mate, posted an update on Instagram: "Out of millions of possibilities, I’d still choose you." The image showed two hands clasped tightly together. I reported the post for being inappropriate.

Lincoln, the Alpha of the Silverfang Pack, instantly called me on FaceTime. With Sienna sobbing in the background, he accused me of being petty and self-centered. Ten minutes later, he commented on her post, saying, "Finally got what I wanted after all this time."

In the past, such behavior would have driven me mad. I would have bombarded him with calls, reached out to his Beta and Gamma, and ultimately confronted Sienna for her audacity. I would have been a mess. But this time, I genuinely couldn’t care less.

By the time I got back to the pack den, it was late. Lincoln sat on the couch, irritably fiddling with his tie. I dropped my keys in the foyer and headed to the kitchen to pour myself some coffee. Today was supposed to be our final fitting for our marking ceremony attire. I had even taken the day off from training for it.

I waited all day, but Lincoln never showed. His phone was constantly busy. It wasn’t until I aimlessly browsed through Instagram and saw Sienna’s post that I realized he had ditched our plans and gone out with a group of warriors instead.

I sat on the couch, massaging my sore ankles. It was so late I couldn’t find a cab, so I had walked home. Lincoln watched me with a smug grin.

“Waited long at the tailor’s? Didn’t know when to come back? So oblivious, but I guess that’s why you’re mine.”

In the past, I might have argued, trying to prove that I was with him out of love, not because no one else wanted me. But tonight, I stayed silent.

Lincoln raised an eyebrow. “Alice, I got you that leather satchel you’ve been eyeing.”

“I noticed.”

After every argument, he’d buy me something I liked—a tacit agreement between us to make peace. I glanced at the latest designer bag on the table and then put it back in its box.

Lincoln eagerly offered, “Let me put it away for you.”

The phone on the table kept buzzing. Lincoln was still in the bedroom, taking his sweet time. I picked up the call myself. A coquettish voice on the other end purred, “Alpha Lincoln, the forecast says it’ll rain tonight. I’m a bit scared. Can you stay with me?”

As I was about to respond, Lincoln burst out of the room, bumping into me. I stumbled and fell to the floor, the phone slipping from my hand.

Lincoln picked up the phone, his voice cold. “Who said you could touch my phone, idiot? Can’t even stand up properly.”

He looked at me as though I were foolish, then grabbed his car keys and said, “Come on. I’ll take you to the healer.”

I followed him out the door, limping but without a word of complaint.