Too Late to Apologize, My Dear Alpha

Days bled into each other in a numbing blur. After the Alpha left, he disappeared for several days. I didn’t ask where he went, and he didn’t volunteer the information. On the third day, he finally talked to me through our mind link.

“I will attend a meeting with the neighboring Alphas,” he uttered. "I'm at Acorn Hill Town now." The words felt mechanical, devoid of any warmth or explanation.

“Okay, stay safe,” I mustered back, my lips curling into a bitter smile as I spoke those few words. The absurdity of it all struck me—pretending to care when the truth was unraveling in front of me.

Minutes later, my social media, Twitter, in particular, delivered another blow. Felicity’s tweet popped up on my feed, it was a picture of her at an event.

[First holiday spent in an event. My companion is a little grumpy today, tho!] And what made my eyebrows furrow was Dane’s hand, unmistakable with our mateship ring still on his finger, was in the frame. The location tag on her post matched the one that my mate had just told me—Acorn Hill Town.

A wave of nausea hit me. The ring on my finger burned like it should not be there. Without a second thought, I yanked it off and tossed it somewhere I didn't even look at, the betrayal and anger swirling inside me.

After that, my work at the pack's clinic became my refuge. The relentless pace and constant demands of being one of the healers were a welcome distraction. I lost myself in the whirl of patients, procedures, and paperwork. It was easier to immerse myself in the lives of others than to confront chaos on my own.

My mate's absence became a distant thing I refused to touch. His return was a question I no longer cared to ask.

The pack's clinic was a world of its own, a bustling microcosm where I could lose myself. One morning, I overheard a group of Wolf Healers talking excitedly about Ezekiel Ashborne, the Master of the Lotus Tower. The Lotus Tower was renowned for its elite healers, and Ezekiel was its enigmatic leader, a Wolf Healer known for his extraordinary powers and handsome looks. His visits were rare, but they always caused a stir.

“Did you hear? Ezekiel Ashborne is seen around Amberwood these days. Do you think he's going to visit us here?" One healer whispered, her eyes wide with anticipation.

“Who knows? But I don't care anymore since I already saw him once at a banquet,” another added, her voice tinged with admiration. “He’s even more impressive in person. Tall, with this commanding presence—and those eyes! Like storm clouds.”

“He’s the best Wolf Healer in the region,” a third chimed in. “I heard he can cure almost anything. They say just being near him feels like a healing in itself.”

Their words piqued my curiosity. I had heard of Ezekiel Ashborne, of course—every Wolf Healer had. His reputation was legendary, but I had never seen him in person. The thought of meeting someone so revered, someone who seemed to effortlessly command respect and awe, was strangely alluring. It was a sharp contrast to the misery I felt in my personal life.

Hours stretched into days. Then, unexpectedly, Dane, my Alpha, appeared outside the clinic one evening. It had been an exhausting shift, and I was trudging toward the exit when I saw his familiar car parked across the place.

“Why are you here?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper, fatigue weighing down my words.

He opened the car door and smiled at me. “Did you forget that today is our mateship anniversary?”

“Oh,” I mumbled, caught off guard. “Sorry. I’ve been really busy and it slipped my mind.”

“Celeste, you used to care about this more than anything. How could you forget?” His eyes searched mine, a mixture of disbelief and hurt.

His words stung, dredging up memories of past anniversaries and birthdays when I had poured my heart into celebrating him. Dinners planned, decorations chosen with care—all my efforts to show him how much he meant to me. I remembered the surprise party I’d organized, only for him to pull me aside, embarrassed by the attention. “You’re making such a big deal out of this, Celeste. Everyone’s looking at us. I'm getting uncomfortable, you know?” His words had turned what was meant to be a joyous occasion into a painful one.

Now, there was nothing left to celebrate. The spark that once ignited our relationship had long since extinguished.

“Come on, let’s go have dinner and celebrate,” he urged, ushering me into the car.

As he drove, silence filled the space between us, thick and oppressive. He kept glancing at me, searching for a flicker of the old enthusiasm that used to light up my face on such occasions.

“Hey, what’s wrong? Are you upset?” he finally asked, his voice tinged with frustration.

“No,” I replied, shaking my head. My voice was flat, and emotionless, a stark contrast to the turmoil inside me.

“No?” he echoed, his tone rising. “Then why the attitude? Here I am, putting in the effort, picking you up for dinner. Can’t you at least pretend to appreciate it?”

“I’m not angry, Alpha.”

“Fine!” He exclaimed, exasperation etched across his features. “I promise, no more contact with Felicity again, okay?”

I stared at him. It was ridiculously funny. Did he really believe that a simple promise could erase months of lies and betrayal?

He really should not have triggered my anger! I was already preoccupied because Cassia had been ignoring my voice as if she could no longer hear me, and now this!

“Are you happy now?” he pressed, his voice edged with impatience.

I remained silent, unwilling or unable to engage in the charade any longer. The car ride continued in heavy, unbroken quiet, finally ending at a lavish restaurant. Dane had spared no expense, reserving a table and arranging flowers and a gift.

The scene was a perfect picture of romantic bliss, complete with envious glances from other diners. But as I reached for the gift he prepared for me, the Alpha's phone rang.

“Fever? Do you have any medicine?” he asked, answering the call. My eyebrows furrowed. “I can’t take you to the clinic today; I have something to do. What? That high? Okay, wait for me. I'll be right over.”

He hung up and turned to me, his eyes filled with awkwardness and an emotion I couldn’t quite decipher. “It's... It's Felicity. Her child has a fever. I need to…”

I swallowed hard, forcing myself to speak. “It’s fine,” I said, my voice eerily calm. “You should go. The child is more important.”

He stood up, hesitating for a moment before grabbing his coat. “Wait for me, okay? I'll pick you up. I’ll be back soon,” he promised, then hurriedly left.

I was left alone, staring at the half-eaten cake. The rain outside lashed against the windowpanes, mirroring the tears I refused to shed. Sighing deeply, I finished the cake and got up to leave.

Outside, I hailed a cab and told the driver to drop me at Silver Moon Pack. The drizzle had turned into a steady downpour, and by the time I reached the entrance of our apartment building, I was soaked and shivering. The cold rain on my face felt almost purifying, washing away the remnants of the evening’s farce.

Once home, I took a long, hot shower, trying to scrub away the lingering sense of betrayal.

Wrapped in a towel, I scrolled through my phone and saw Felicity’s latest tweet. It showed Dane sitting by her child’s bed, a warm yellow light casting a cozy glow over the scene. The image was the complete opposite of the cold, lonely rain outside.