Her Second Dance, His First Regret

Ronan's ears flushed bright red. "I'm not like that," he said, his voice a rushed whisper.

"I believe you," I said softly.

Of course, I believed him.

In my last life, after my parents were driven to their deaths, it was Ronan who relentlessly investigated the truth and cleared their names.

When I asked him why, he simply said it was the right thing to do.

I later learned that Ronan had loved me from afar.

But I had only ever had eyes for Jared. I never noticed the way Ronan looked at me—a gaze filled with a quiet, unwavering loyalty.

I had even believed the vicious rumors and kept my distance from him.

And the truth about that pack member? The man had sold pack secrets to a rival. Ronan faked his exile, secretly giving him a new identity and sending him far away to save him from being hunted down.

By the time I learned of his feelings, he had already died fighting a cursed, ancient Alpha to protect our territory.

This time, I would never let that happen.

The music started, and Ronan and I began to dance.

Murmurs of disbelief echoed around us.

"Ronan is actually dancing with her?"

"Am I seeing things?"

"Doesn't he refuse to let any female within ten feet of him?"

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Jared's face darken.

Though I deliberately avoided his gaze, it was impossible to ignore the icy glare tracking my every move.

My defiance clearly stunned him. I hadn’t begged pathetically like I always did. I had simply turned to another man without a moment's hesitation.

Amber noticed Jared's attention shifting. The practiced smile on her face stiffened for a fraction of a second.

I ignored them both. The moment the opening dance was over, I turned on my heel and left.

Back at home, I slipped out of the heavy, formal gown.

For the past ten years, my love for Jared had been a desperate, groveling thing.

I'd been meticulous about everything related to him, obsessing over every detail.

He once mentioned he was tired and wanted to relax by the sea. I stayed up all night planning a perfect seaside getaway for him.

In my last life, he forgot all about it and went hiking with Amber instead.

I was dragged along.

During a torrential downpour, Jared sent me to find some stupid accessory of Amber’s. I slipped, rolled down a muddy hill, and broke my leg.

It was a brush with death I never wanted to repeat.

Step one: stay away from Jared.

After dinner, I went to my room and started packing.

As I was dragging my suitcase downstairs, I ran right into Jared, who had just returned from the ceremony.

He saw me, sneered, and snatched the suitcase, tossing it aside.

"What do you think you're doing?" I demanded.

"I should be asking you that, Phoebe!" he shot back.

"What's this little act for? Running away from home?"

"Everyone knows you're my little lapdog. And you had the gall to ask Ronan to dance? Did you really think that pathetic stunt would get my attention?"

Jared was panting, his handsome face a mask of pure disgust.

I silently bent to retrieve my suitcase.

Amber appeared behind him, her eyes already brimming with tears. "Jared, please don't fight with Phoebe because of me. You should have danced with her. I would have been fine. Phoebe, please don't be mad at me, okay? I'm so sorry."

Jared immediately pulled Amber into a protective embrace, comforting her in a low voice.

The look he gave me was filled with even more revulsion.

I looked at Amber—so fragile on the outside, yet every word was a calculated barb designed to win sympathy. This was how she had slowly poisoned Jared against me.

Jared and I were fated mates. He was the son of the Gamma; I was the daughter of the Alpha.

We had grown up together. We were promised to each other.

We used to be inseparable.

Then Amber appeared, and he became a stranger.

At first, he was just distracted when we were together.

Then, impatient.

Now, it was pure hatred—because my very existence was an obstacle between him and Amber.

A wave of exhaustion washed over me as I watched them, lost in their own little world.

I grabbed my suitcase and tried to leave.

Amber rushed forward.

"Phoebe, can you please stop being so unreasonable and making Jared angry?"

She gripped my arm, her sharp nails biting into my skin.

The pain was a sharp shock, and I shoved her away on instinct.

She collapsed to the floor in a heap, struggling to get up, her eyes wide with manufactured hurt.

"Phoebe, you—"