Chapter 2

Alison POV

After treating the wounds on my arm, I left the pack hospital as dawn was breaking.

Last night, Ethan never returned.

I refused the doctor's suggestion to stay for observation and walked alone back to the Packhouse. Suddenly, I remembered many years ago, the first time I met Ethan.

Back then, the Silver Moon Pack's border was under vicious attack by rogues. As a vanguard warrior, I fought in blood-soaked mud.

Just as three crazed rogues surrounded me and my strength was nearly exhausted, a massive black wolf descended from above and instantly snapped the enemy's neck.

After the battle ended, Ethan stood before me.

He reeked of blood.

He extended both hands to me as I sat slumped against a tree. "You're outstanding." His eyes held undisguised admiration. "Seems the Silver Moon Pack has trained a remarkable warrior."

The first time I saw him, I remembered his low, slightly hoarse voice and those golden eyes.

Our second meeting was at the negotiating table for an alliance marriage.

To strengthen the pack, the old Alpha of Blood Moon Pack—Ethan's father—chose me, a female warrior who had distinguished herself on the battlefield, as the marriage partner. I later learned the old Alpha used iron-fisted tactics, even forcing Ethan to sever his mate bond with his first love, Olivia.

After the meeting ended, I found Ethan alone on the terrace, taking in the breeze.

I didn't want to force anyone, so I approached him proactively.

"If you're being forced to accept this, I can refuse the old Alpha." I looked at him seriously.

Ethan turned his head slightly, the emotions in his eyes unfathomable.

After a moment, he chuckled softly and reached out to smooth my wind-tousled hair. "Why refuse? Alison, you're a wonderful she-wolf."

He paused, his tone carrying a casual certainty. "Besides, your wolf likes me, doesn't she?"

I did like him.

That time fighting side by side on the battlefield, his powerful, cold figure had already left an impression in my heart.

So I always thought that as long as I devoted all my loyalty and worked wholeheartedly to help him manage pack affairs, someday I could exchange sincerity for sincerity.

In fact, these four years, in outsiders' eyes, Ethan was quite a competent husband.

He would tenderly comfort me during my heat, remember all my preferences, and absolutely defend my dignity as Luna before the council of elders. He prepared thoughtful, appropriate gifts for every anniversary.

The she-wolves in the pack always envied me, saying I had an Alpha like Ethan who was emotionally stable and considerate.

I once thought I had truly entered his heart.

Until a month ago, when Olivia returned to the pack.

As the former Beta's daughter, her father's death became Olivia's legitimate reason to return.

She called Ethan crying and seeking comfort. That day was our fourth anniversary dinner. After taking the call, Ethan didn't even explain to me before hurrying away.

From then on, everything changed.

He came home to the Packhouse later and later, always carrying another she-wolf's scent. Even in the middle of the night, as long as Olivia made an excuse about being sad from dreaming of her deceased father, Ethan would hastily grab a jacket and leave me to rush to her place.

Because of Olivia, we began fighting frequently.

I felt insecure and pathetic. I despised myself for this irrational jealousy, yet couldn't help asking him with red eyes again and again: "After all these years, is she the only one you truly care about in your heart?"

And he grew increasingly impatient, blaming me for being sensitive and paranoid, saying coldly: "Her father died fighting for the pack. I care for her only as compensation to the former Beta. Alison, when did you become so unreasonable?"

I also doubted myself—was I really being too sensitive and paranoid?

Until that night, when my phone received an anonymous email containing only a short audio clip.

The moment I played it, Ethan's familiar voice filled the quiet room.

In that instant, the string that had been taut in my mind for four years finally snapped.

This time I didn't throw a tantrum or cry my heart out. A warrior's instincts made me unusually calm in this extreme pain.

I looked at my pale face in the mirror. Yes, when disappointment accumulates enough, it's time to leave.