I Watched My Mate Declare His Devotion to Another

Her timid glance made me feel as though the world were judging me, though in truth, I bore no blame.

“How could I be angry?” I said softly, my voice steady but cool. “Please, enjoy your meal. I have matters to attend to in the den. I shall take my leave.”

With a calm smile, I gathered my satchel of belongings, ready to depart the gathering.

Jason’s voice, sharp with provocation, called out deliberately, “Still sulking over the moonfire I set off for Rowena?”

The mention of it made Rowena speak quickly, her tone light but measured, like a wolf circling carefully. “Seraphine, I—my mood was ill that evening. Aldric only wished to ease it with some moonfire. Aldric, you should offer your apology to Seraphine.”

Aldric’s amber eyes darkened, brows drawing together. “I merely set off the moonfire. Why should I apologize?”

The words fell like frost across the clearing. Silence pressed on the pack, tense as taut leather.

Rowena’s eyes flicked toward me, her smile subtle, claiming her possession in a way that words could not. It was laughable. The one who had caused the sting was blind to his own fault, as always. He believed he could soothe the wound with a gesture, as though it were nothing, and life would move forward.

I smiled, cold and precise. “Yes, you are correct. The moonfire was spectacular. Perhaps you should continue with such displays in the future.”

With that, I left, not turning back.

As soon as the den’s door closed behind me, I heard Rowena’s voice drift on the wind. “Aldric, go. Apologize at once. Seraphine is clearly angry.”

“Do not trouble yourself over her,” Aldric replied, calm as ever. “She will be fine in a few days.”

His words were blades against my chest. What had I done to earn such certainty from him?

I walked slowly through the streets under the early autumn sky. The cool breeze carried the scents of the pack, the forest beyond, and the faint remnants of the city’s warmth. Couples passed by, nuzzling and leaning close, their closeness a pang in my chest. Before Rowena came into his life, Aldric and I had been like them—hands locked, hearts tethered as tightly as two wolves bound by matebond. So why had it unraveled so completely?

I felt the weight of the night press against my ribs, shallow breaths catching in my throat. Passing a small food stall, I paused. An old habit drew me to it. I chose an icy treat, something to cool the fire in my chest.

The first bite was strange—salty, bitter, and hollow. Then I remembered his voice in the back of my mind, carried by the moonstone: “You know ice chills your stomach, yet you cannot resist it.”

I looked down at the treat, noticing tears streaking its surface. No wonder the taste was off. I wiped my eyes with the sleeve of my cloak, turning to make my way back to my small den.

The moonstone shimmered faintly in the corner as I arrived home. A pulse of thought, Aldric’s mindlink, reached me: “Have you returned?”

I ignored it. Soon another followed, soft and insistent: “The gathering was soured today. Let us invite them again on another night.”

I remained silent, letting the thoughts pass. Finally, his patience faltered, and I could sense the approach of his presence reaching for me through the moonstone. I set it aside, letting the connection fade into stillness.

After washing, I settled into the quiet of my den, my paws brushing over the soft fur of blankets. My eyes fell upon a sudden vision in the mindlink—a fleeting glimpse from Rowena. She leaned against him, resting close, her eyes shy yet claiming him entirely.

A caption, clear as thought in the mindlink, pulsed softly: “It seems I remain your first choice, even after so many seasons.”

I let a small, self-mocking smile curl at my lips and sent a simple thought back, sharp and final: “Congratulations.”