When My Mate Chose Her Over Me

Exhausted from crying, I lay down on the bed and drifted into a deep sleep, my body still aching from the emotional turmoil of the day. The scent of pine and snow lingered faintly in the air, a reminder of the cold winter outside the pack’s territory.

Late at night, Dean returned.

I quickly shut my eyes, feigning sleep, though my heart pounded in my chest. His footsteps echoed softly against the wooden floor, each one bringing him closer until he stopped in front of me. In the darkness, I felt his gaze heavy upon me, the weight of it almost tangible. There was a long silence, but no apology came—just a low, deep sigh that carried more regret than words ever could. Eventually, he left the bedroom, his presence fading as he moved into the living room.

The sound of his voice carried faintly through the walls, soft but unmistakable.

“Leaving on New Year’s Day? Not sticking around a bit longer?”

My chest tightened as I recognized the name he said next. “Lucia, don’t blame yourself. I know today wasn’t your fault. No need to rush off.”

A bitter taste filled my mouth, and I clenched my fists beneath the blanket. The bond between us, once so strong, now felt like a frayed thread, barely holding together.

“I’ll go with you to the theme park on New Year’s Eve,” Dean continued, his voice softer now, almost tender. “You’ve always wanted to see the fireworks, right?”

I closed my eyes tighter, trying to block out his words, but they seeped through anyway. “No worries, I’m free. Don’t stress about Jessica; we can visit her after the holidays. I’ll talk to her, and she’ll understand.”

A wave of indescribable bitterness welled up from my chest, rising to my throat. I turned my head toward the window, watching the snowflakes fall in silence, each one a reminder of the cold distance between us. Something inside me felt buried, frozen beneath the weight of his neglect.

I spent the night wide awake, my mind replaying every moment of the six years we’d spent together. Never had I been so clear-headed, so aware that this long, pointless journey had reached its end.

When I woke up the next morning, the apartment was as empty as ever. The scent of Dean’s wolf, once comforting, now felt suffocating. I packed a few belongings, my hands moving mechanically as I folded clothes and gathered essentials. Booking the next available flight was a relief, a step toward reclaiming my life.

Disappointment is like a coin. This time, I finally had enough for a ticket out.

When I stepped outside, the snow had stopped. The sky was clear and sunny, a stark contrast to the storm brewing inside me. I wrapped my coat tighter around myself, the cold air biting at my skin, and picked up my suitcase. The path to the airport felt like a journey toward freedom, away from the suffocating hierarchy of the pack and the shadow of Dean’s indifference.

Before boarding, I opened my messaging app to Dean’s chat. My finger hovered over the screen for a moment, then I typed out a final message.

“I’m going home for Christmas. You don’t need to come this year.”

To my surprise, Dean, who usually left my messages unread, replied almost instantly.

“???”

I stared at the screen, the two question marks mocking me. But I didn’t respond. Instead, I turned off my phone and boarded the plane, leaving behind the life that had never truly belonged to me.