I gave up that marriage. Later, he asked me to come back

Henry immediately followed her lead. “Alright, I am coming.”

He did not ask if I was in pain.

From the kitchen came the sound of iron pots striking fire stones. Demi sat at the long table, sipping berry juice while watching me, as if enjoying the sight of prey struggling.

She tapped her cup. “Aurora, are you jealous or something?”

Their laughter filled the air.

And I, the so-called mate, could only sit beneath the flickering firelight like some forgotten object buried in the clan house.

My hand paused on the medicine bottle.

Seeing my silence, Demi added with syrupy sweetness, “Do not worry. With me taking care of Henry, you actually get to relax. You are so weak that even I feel sorry for you.”

When she said “sorry,” there was open mockery in her eyes.

I slowly lifted my head and met her overly gentle smile.

For the first time, I did not endure it. I did not stay silent.

I simply said, softly, “Demi, you used too much force.”

She froze for half a second, then smiled even more sweetly. “Aurora, did you misunderstand me? I have only ever helped you.”

My forearm still throbbed, the tips of my fingers pale from pain. I did not continue the argument. I lowered my gaze and swallowed the moon-leaf powder little by little.

The firepit was filled with the scent of spice. It was the smell of Henry cooking for her.

What used to belong to him and me now belonged to the two of them.

I sat on the long bench, listening to their laughter drifting from the kitchen. The sound of ladles against iron, Demi’s soft giggles, Henry’s gentle replies.

At that moment, I felt like a forgotten shadow.

Once they had eaten, played drinking dice games, and flirted with each other, I sat in the corner of the kitchen and ate the cold leftovers.

I had barely sat down when Demi’s honeyed voice sounded behind me.

“Aurora, why are you not joining us?”

She laughed at her own words, and the nearby patrol wolves echoed her amusement.

My recovered eyesight was clear enough to see the contempt on every one of their faces.

My pride tore apart. My chest tightened. I pressed down the trembling in my voice.

“Demi, apologize to me.”

Henry spoke first, impatient and irritated. He slapped away the hand I had pointed toward Demi, the movement rough, as if swatting aside a bothersome stray.

The wooden cup on the table fell to the ground and shattered into pieces.

“Aurora, can you stop taking everything so seriously? If you do not want to be here, then leave.”

It felt like a heavy blow to my chest.

I tore off my apron and threw it to the ground, then pushed the door open and walked out.

The wooden door slammed behind me, as if cutting the last thread of dignity I had left.

Outside, the night wind was cold. Cold enough to clear every illusion I had left.

But only a few seconds passed before the door was pushed open again.

Henry walked out with Demi in his arms, looking smug and satisfied, as if he had always known I would wait for him.

He raised his brows at his companions, almost boasting. “See? I told you she would be standing here waiting.”

My throat tightened painfully. Tears threatened despite everything.

I spoke quietly. “When you come back, I have something to tell you.”

He brushed past me with a wave of his hand, cold and casual, like speaking to a wooden carving that always stayed where it was placed.

“Aurora, I heard you.”

I waited on the wooden steps of the clan house until he returned.

The moment he stepped inside, I placed the dissolution scroll on the table.

“Henry, this is an agreement. Please place your imprint on it.”

He paused. For the first time, he truly looked at me.

A faint crease formed between his brows, as if he finally sensed that something was wrong.

He was not used to me speaking to him like this.

When it was just the two of us, I never spoke so formally.

I never called him “Henry.”

But tonight, I created distance on purpose.

He frowned, his tone holding an unusual restraint. “You just came back from the Moonstone Healing Hall. You should be resting.”

He sounded as if he was being considerate, but that casual, automatic tone made every word feel sharp.

Even so, he reached for the scroll. Just as his fingers were about to touch the cover, the communication stone at his waist lit up.

His movement stopped.

I glimpsed the note on the glowing sigil.

“Demi sweetheart”.