Chapter 1

I never doubted Nicholas Pendle's love for me. We'd been bonded as mates for five years, and in all that time, he had adored me with a devotion that bordered on worship.

Until today.

Scrolling through his Facebook, I stumbled upon a post that stopped my breath.

Chanelle Ringard had shared a photo of herself in a lace dress. Her caption read: [What should I do if my mate is always unsatisfied?]

Nicholas had always kept his distance from other she-wolves. But on this post—this one—he'd clicked like.

I was frozen in place, confused. And before I could say anything, Nicholas slid his arm around me.

"Chanelle's in charge of selling lingerie," he said smoothly. "If she makes you uncomfortable, I'll delete her right now."

His voice was calm and reassuring. The doubt in my chest slowly faded. After all, from childhood to now, there had never been another she-wolf by his side but me.

My wolf, Aya, said proudly in my mind, Nicholas even cut off all his business ties with female Alphas—for us.

When I heard that, I almost scolded him for spoiling me too much. "You'll ruin me like this," I told him softly. "It's fine if I have to endure a little for the pack's sake."

But Nicholas only smiled, clasping my hand, his eyes burning with affection.

"I don't care," he said. "The pack means nothing to me without you."

Thinking of that, I had waved the whole thing off. I trusted him.

I didn't expect the truth to hit so soon.

Three days later, when he came home from work, he didn't greet me with his usual hug. Instead, he turned straight into the bathroom.

And from his briefcase, something slipped out—a lace dress.

I froze.

When I picked it up, the familiar pattern caught my eye, and Chanelle's Facebook post flashed instantly through my mind. Her photo. His like.

My hands went cold.

"What's wrong, Julie?"

Nicholas stepped out of the bathroom, towel around his neck, and wrapped his arms around me from behind.

Seeing my pale face, he frowned with concern. "Are you feeling sick?"

I stared down at the lace dress in my hands. The sweetness of all those promises between us suddenly felt like a slap.

"What's this?" I asked, a bitter smile tugging at my lips as I held the lace dress up in front of him.

For an instant, panic flickered across his face—but then it was gone.

"Oh, that," he said easily. "I wanted you to try it on."

He took the dress, clutching it in his hand. "You've been distant lately. I just wanted to add a little spark between us."

If I hadn't noticed the faint trace of white fluid on the fabric, I might have believed him.

"I didn't know you'd hate it," he murmured, lowering his head. "Then we won't consider trying this kind of thing again, okay?"

He tossed the dress into the trash, sulking like a scolded pup.

But I said nothing.

"You don't think I'm cheating, do you?" he whispered, turning my face toward him, kissing me softly. "You know I only love you. If you don't believe me, I'll find out who's trying to set me up."

I quickly grabbed his sleeve, shaking my head. "No… I believe you."

Only then did he relax, smiling again as he gathered my clothes to wash by hand.

For five years, Nicholas had managed every detail of my life himself. Even something as small as trimming my nails—he insisted on doing it, afraid I might hurt myself.

My friends used to joke that he would spoil me useless.

He only laughed and said he didn't care—he'd take care of me forever.

But now, watching him move around the room, I remembered that night he marked me as his mate.

His hand gripped mine under the moonlight as he vowed, "I swear to the Moon Goddess that I will never deceive, harm, or betray Julie Shoren."

Under that same moon, I made the same promise—and quietly added one more: If he ever broke his vow, I would leave.

Now, that time had come.

Dinner that night was quiet, the sound of thunder rolling outside. Rain lashed the windows in thick, heavy sheets.

Just as Nicholas reached over to serve me food, his phone rang.

The caller ID glowed on the screen: Chanelle.

I frowned. "Something important?"

He glanced at me, then at the phone, and ended the call.

"Nothing serious. Dinner with you comes first."

He poured me more juice, but before the bottle touched the table, the phone rang again.

"Who's calling so urgently?" I asked, watching him.

"It's a subordinate," he said after a pause. "I'll take it outside."

I nodded, and as soon as he stepped out, I opened the home surveillance app on my phone.

At the villa's side door stood a she-wolf, soaked to the skin, holding a cake.