Chapter 1

On Valentine's Day, I was shopping alone at the mall.

Across the street, a motel was on fire. Through the rising black smoke, I saw Damon—my mate, my Alpha, the man who told me he was out patrolling our borders—running out of the building. He was shirtless, holding a strange woman tightly in his arms.

The woman clung to his neck, her voice dripping with mock worry. "Aren’t you afraid your Luna will find out about us?"

Damon let out a low, husky chuckle. "We're miles away from the Packhouse. Even her wolf can't feel a thing out here. I'm not done with you yet. Let's find another motel."

The next second, my phone buzzed. It was a text from Damon on Snapchat:

*“Sweetheart, some urgent pack business came up at the border. I’ll be home late.”*

At that exact moment, the bond in my heart went completely cold. I finally let him go.

The moment I stepped back into the Packhouse, my phone rang. It was Damon.

"Babe, why didn't you reply to my snap?"

In the past, I would reply to his messages within seconds. Now, just a few minutes of silence made him call me directly.

I remembered all the times I had called him, only for him to ignore me or decline my calls whenever he pleased. I had been too submissive, too accommodating.

"I was busy," I replied, my voice completely flat.

On the other end of the line, I heard a faint, muffled whisper. *“Did your mate find out?”*

Even though Damon tried to cover the microphone, I could still hear his low murmur: *“Impossible. She trusts me blindly.”*

Then came the creaking of bed springs, followed by his heavy, ragged breathing. *“Slow down... I'll feed you soon, don't worry.”*

A wave of disgust washed over me. "Do you need anything else?"

Damon tried to steady his breathing, forcing his voice to sound normal. "I left some fresh steaks in the freezer for you. Grill them if you're hungry."

"Also, don't overwork yourself with the pack duties lately. Take a rest."

The background noises grew more intense. Damon practically trembled as he gasped out, "Clara, wait for me to come home—" before the phone apparently dropped to the floor.

*“Aren’t you afraid she’ll catch us?”* the woman’s voice mocked.

Damon’s voice instantly went cold. *“You and I are just having fun. If you dare let her know, we are over!”*

I didn't want to hear another word of his lies. I hung up the phone and walked into the main hall.

I had been his Luna for six years. I had given him all my respect, my strength, and my unwavering support.

Looking up at the giant pack portrait hanging on the wall, I felt nothing but a sharp, mocking irony.

When Damon finally returned to the Packhouse, I was in the middle of taking that portrait down.

The flush on his cheeks hadn't fully faded. Seeing me holding the frame, he paused for a fraction of a second.

Then, with perfect ease, he said, "Yeah, I was thinking that photo looks a bit old anyway. It's time for a new one."

He walked over, wrapping his arms around my waist. His eyes were bright, filled with a warmth that now felt completely fake. "I know a great photographer in the city. Let's go take a new one together."

Without giving me a chance to reject, he headed straight to the kitchen to grill the steaks for me.

In the past, if he had mentioned a new name, I would have questioned him immediately.

But this time, I said nothing. My silence made him uneasy.

"Aren't you going to ask me who the photographer is?"

My hand paused as I sorted through some pack documents. I didn't even look up. "It's not surprising for an Alpha to know people. It's just a photo anyway."

That was the exact line Damon used to use on me. Now that I was throwing it back at him, he actually looked relieved.

"Right. By the way, Clara, don't go to the training grounds today. Just take a break."

I didn't argue. There was no point in torturing myself.

Just then, his phone on the table lit up with a Snapchat notification.

*“Baby, was she satisfied with the little show we put on for her?”*

My heart turned to ice. So, all of Damon's sudden care and attention today was just a calculated act to keep me unsuspecting.

Before I could even move my eyes away, Damon rushed over and snatched the phone.

"Clara! We agreed to trust each other. You shouldn't be looking at my phone!"

In his haste, the metal tray in his hand scraped hard against my forearm. It didn't break the skin, but it bruised. I frowned.

I took a step back, turning to walk away and tend to it.

Damon, sensing the tension, quickly grabbed my shoulder. "Let's go for a walk in the city. I know a new boutique that opened up. You'll love it."

I stared into his eyes. He quickly averted his gaze, unable to look at me directly.

I clenched my fists, suppressing the urge to tear his throat out. "Fine. Let's go."