He Hated Waiting—Until I Left

My fiancé, Alpha Rowan, hated waiting.

If a pack council ran late, he walked out. If a priest kept him waiting ten minutes, he canceled the blessing.

For six years, I made sure he never waited for me. I waited for him instead.

At the Full Moon Celebration, his assistant Celine wanted moon-laurel wine that was served only when the moon reached its highest point.

Rowan stood in line with her for twenty minutes without checking the time once.

While I watched from across the hall, he texted me.

[The celebration is over. Go home. Do not wait for me.]

I typed, “Okay,” then deleted it.