Bond Yet Untouched, My Mate Regretted His Affair

Walking out of the werewolf family court, the thin, weightless bond-breaking certificate in my hand felt like it belonged to another life. Christopher glanced at me. "Where you headed? I'll drive you."

Before I could answer, Brittany strode up. "Chris, I'm not feeling great. Let's head back."

He hesitated, looking at me. I shrugged. "Take her home. I'll grab a cab."

six years bound to him, I'd walked alone. Now, unbound, I didn't need his company. As I turned to go, he grabbed my hand. "Anything else?" I asked.

He faltered. "Take care of yourself."

I nodded, and as he let go, his eyes caught my bare ring finger. He froze. That ring had been on since our engagement, never off, not even in the shower. He opened his mouth, but Brittany cut in. "Lauren, thanks for being so understanding. Chris and I are heading back to Elthenia soon, and we'll bring his parents along. Let's keep things clean and not stay in touch."

I smiled, sharp. "Don't worry, I'm not like you. I don't chase what's already gone." Her jaw dropped as I climbed into a cab without a backward glance.

An hour later, I was home. First, I deleted every trace of Christopher's contact info. Second, I burned our binding ceremony photos. Third, I tossed his clothes, shoes, and toiletries. The house felt emptier, but I felt lighter, like I'd shed a heavy pelt.

I'd always feared losing him. Now that he was gone, I realized my world didn't change much without him. He wasn't vital.

Life went back to normal. Weekdays were school and home. I'd eat with colleagues in the cafeteria or order takeout with my bestie. Without Christopher's parents to care for, weekends were mine-tea with Dad, mahjong with Mom. Unbound, I was free. I could go anywhere, stay out late, delete Ilmaris Town's weather app, and stop obsessively checking my phone for his rare messages. No more agonizing over his scraps of affection or sleepless nights dreaming of his rejection. All the unhappiness tied to him vanished.

Sometimes, mutual friends mentioned him and Brittany in Elthenia. Hearing they weren't together didn't stir me. I'd moved on.

Over the next Seven months, I published papers and earned a top-tier teacher's title. Winter break came, and as I left school, I powered on my phone, swamped with 99+ notifications. The latest was from an unknown number: "It's me."

I looked up. Across the street stood Christopher, leaner, his sharp features colder, untouchable. Our eyes met, and he quickly stubbed out his cigarette. The school gate buzzed with wolf, but he pushed through, stopping in front of me. "Lauren, I regret it."

He looked different yet the same-white shirt, black slacks, icy demeanor. But my heart didn't skip anymore. "Regret what?" I asked, confused.

He held my gaze, voice soft. "Can we rebind?"

I shook my head, firm. "No way. I'm good on my own."

He blinked, surprised, then slipped back into his polished calm, a faint smile like a spring breeze. "How about dinner, then?"

He hadn't changed-always composed, graceful even in defeat. I didn't say no.

He drove a Bentley Bentayga. As I settled into the passenger seat, he leaned over to buckle my seatbelt. I froze. For six years, his aversion to touch kept us strangers despite our bond. Now, Seven months unbound, he was doing this? It felt wrong.

"Thanks," I mumbled, uneasy.

"No need," he said, eyes on the road.

I picked a cheap stew joint near school, expecting him to balk. He was a healer, always fussing about hygiene, avoiding hole-in-the-wall spots. But he didn't complain. We sat by the window, and I ordered my favorites-beef, pork, rabbit. I handed him the menu. "Your turn."

He looked startled, like he expected me to order for him like I used to. He added a few light veggie dishes.

The place was loud, a young couple nearby wiping down their utensils. Then Christopher took my silverware, clumsily rinsing it with teapot water. I stared, shocked. He handed it back, fingertips red, face blank.

"You don't have to do that," I said. "We're barely friends now. Just look out for yourself."

He didn't respond, instead saying, "Lauren, these past Seven months, I've thought a lot. I failed you as a mate. I'm sorry."

I wasn't expecting this. Words caught in my throat. He smiled gently, easing the tension. "No pressure. I turned down the institute's transfer. I'm staying here. My parents prefer it too-Elthenia's too quiet for them. And, honestly, I don't like the rain there either. Neither do you."

I snapped my head up, meeting his eyes-warm, tinged with guilt. I'd told him once, "I hate Ilmaris Town's rain." Yet he stayed there for Brittany, even planned to settle. Now he brought it up, as if it mattered.

The meal tasted bland, over quickly. At the door, he looked at me. "Lauren, as friends, can you unblock me?"

I paused, then said, "Only if you drop the rebinding talk and don't hassle me."

He nodded, a faint smile breaking through. "Deal."

I sighed, pulled out my phone, and unblocked him. His eyes lit up. He offered to drive me home, but I waved him off. Dinner with an ex-mate was enough. I wasn't signing up for more.