Her Alphas Craved Her Love When She Stopped Caring Them EXPANDED

“It’s only a picture,” Lenora said flatly, her tone cutting off any room for discussion. “We don’t need to take more.”

Evan, always the one trying to mend cracks, spoke gently. “The stars are out tonight. Maybe later we can go outside and snap a few? It’s been ages since we stepped beyond the pack borders. A little air might do us good.”

Raymond chimed in quickly, his voice carrying a hopeful edge. “And we could bring Hailey. She’s been asking about the northern forest since she arrived.”

At the mention of Hailey—sweet-faced, ever-sheltered Hailey—Lenora’s lips curved faintly, though the expression held resignation rather than warmth. She gave no reply, but her silence was mistaken for consent. Relief softened the men’s shoulders as they turned toward the den.

Then both froze. Stacked by the door were several boxes.

“What’s this?” Raymond asked. Evan echoed him, bewildered.

Lenora didn’t meet their eyes. “I resigned from the intelligence division. Alpha Nathan approved it this morning.”

The words struck them silent. Shock rippled across their features, disbelief thick in the air. They knew how fiercely she had clung to that position, how she had fought past every weakness of her body to keep serving. Evan’s brows drew together, his lips parting as though to question her—but no sound came. Raymond fumbled for words too, but the sharp trill of a phone cut through the silence.

Evan answered. Hailey’s trembling voice spilled into the room. “Evan? My lights went out. It’s so dark—I’m scared. I don’t know what to do.”

Raymond’s eyes filled instantly with worry. Before Evan could respond, he blurted, “I’ll come right now, Hailey. Don’t worry.” Evan’s face mirrored the concern, his usual composure cracking.

Neither spared Lenora another word. In seconds they shifted into their wolves, urgency driving them through the door. Their paws scattered dust and scraps of paper from her carefully packed boxes as they vanished into the night.

Lenora stood still in the quiet that followed, their absence settling heavily in the space they had left behind. Then she pulled out her phone and dialed a number etched deep in her memory.

After two rings, a warm voice answered. Anna—the healer who had raised her like her own child when her parents couldn’t.

“Lenora?” Anna’s tone carried the same gentle strength it always had.

Lenora’s own voice softened. “I called to tell you—I’ll be leaving soon. My parents arranged a mate for me, and I’ve agreed.”

Silence followed, heavy and pained. Finally Anna spoke, sadness woven into every word. “Do Evan and Raymond know?”

“No,” Lenora said firmly. “Not yet. And I’d rather it stay that way for now. Please… don’t mention it.”

Anna sighed, the sound weighted with sorrow. “Those boys have guarded you all their lives. I always thought… perhaps one day you’d choose one of them. It’s hard to imagine you belonging to another.”

A wistful smile touched Lenora’s lips. “It isn’t tragic, Anna. Fate never tied us together. They’ll understand in time.”

Another pause, softer this time. “At least promise me you’ll come see me before you go,” Anna whispered. “This feels so sudden. Who knows when we’ll meet again?”

“I promise,” Lenora replied warmly. “I’ve something set aside for you. I couldn’t leave without saying goodbye.”

They lingered for a few more words before ending the call, leaving Lenora in the hush of her room once again.

The stillness was brief. Alpha Nathan’s commanding voice reached her through the mind link: “Lenora, your service in intelligence has brought great value to the pack. As recognition, I’ve had a crystal plaque made for you. It’s already been delivered.”

The link snapped closed, and as if on cue, the doorbell chimed.

Lenora opened it to find Hailey standing there, a small box in her hands. Inside lay the plaque, its surface glinting faintly.

“It’s for you,” Hailey said softly, holding it out. Her eyes lingered on Lenora’s face, not with malice but with quiet searching—as though trying to read something she didn’t dare speak aloud.