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

Because Demi had just returned to North Ridge from a foreign clan and was not used to staying alone in an outside camp, Henry naturally and smoothly invited her to live in our clan house.

And I, the supposed mistress of the home, was never asked for my opinion.

I stood at the top of the stairs, hearing his calm voice. “Demi, stay here for now. After a while, you will get used to it.”

She looked up at him, eyes slightly red, her voice so soft and fragile it could melt an entire tribe.

“But this is your and Aurora’s home. If I move in, will it not be too disturbing?”

Henry immediately wrapped an arm around her, his expression gentle enough to soften stone.

“It will not. Aurora has always been generous. She will not be upset over something so small.”

I stood on the staircase and did not step aside.

When I heard those words, I almost laughed.

Not upset.

Yes, the old me was indeed like that.

Humble, yielding, silent, retreating until there was nothing left of me but a shadow.

But that was already the past.

I walked down the stairs slowly, my voice steady as if speaking about someone else’s life.

“I will not be upset. Demi, you can stay here.”

Demi paused, surprised that I agreed so calmly.

A trace of unease flickered in her eyes, as if she could not guess what I was thinking.

Henry, however, assumed it was my usual obedience.

He instructed the servants to carry Demi’s luggage into the most spacious, brightest, newly furnished room in the house.

That room was the one he once said

“When we have a child, this will be their room.”

How ironic.

Now it had become the place where his favored she-wolf would stay.

I watched the luggage being moved in without saying a word.

Although there were servants in this house, it had always been me handling the cleaning and cooking.

Because Henry was demanding and picky, even the elders most skilled in the kitchen could not satisfy him.

Only the food I cooked, he would eat a few bites.

Yet no matter how much effort I put into it, he never once praised me, never once asked about it, never once remembered it.

It was as if my labor had always been meant to be taken for granted.

Demi stood at the doorway, her gaze lifted slightly toward me, carrying a faint and almost invisible triumph.

At that moment, I shook my head lightly and spoke the four words that stunned everyone.

“I cannot do it.”

Henry turned toward me immediately, instinctively drawn by the unfamiliar tone.

In his memory, I had never disobeyed anyone in his family.

This was the first time I had refused.

He was just about to speak when Demi’s eyes reddened, her lips trembling as she lowered her head.

“It is my fault. I should not have moved in. I am just an outsider. It is not right for Aurora to cook for me.”

She turned as if to go upstairs to pack her bags, but Henry grabbed her arm.

“This has nothing to do with you.”

I ignored him and brushed past.

I had only taken two steps when my vision went black. It felt as if all strength had been drained from my body, and I collapsed without warning.

When I woke again, I was lying on a wooden bed in the Moonstone Healing Hall.

The clan shaman pulled aside the curtain and entered, saying,

“Miss Aurora, you are three months pregnant.”

“What. Pregnant.”

The words escaped me without thought.

Seeing my disbelief, the shaman handed me the rune-carved bone diagnostic.

Pregnant for eight weeks. The carved text pierced me so sharply my breath stopped for a moment.

I braced against the bed and forced myself up, dragging my weakened body back to the clan house.

The diagnostic bone was clenched tightly in my hand, its edges pressing my fingertips until they turned pale.

The moment I pushed the door open, a strong mix of smoke and heavy perfume hit my chest, making it tighten.

In the living room, Henry lounged lazily on the fur sofa, his chest marked with unmistakable traces of intimacy.

Demi wore his clothes, the hem barely covering her thighs as she leaned against him with a soft laugh.

Her hair was messy, and the flush on her face had not faded.

One glance was enough to know what had just happened.