Chapter 3

Over the next three days, Declan finally seemed to notice that something had changed.

He usually left at eight, and I used to prepare breakfast thirty minutes beforehand. At noon, I asked whether he had eaten. If he was not home by eleven at night, I sent at least two messages. For three days, I did none of those things.

On the fourth evening, he came home before eight for the first time in months. As soon as the door opened, he looked toward me at the desk. “Is your phone broken?”

I was checking a studio contract and did not look up. “No.”

“Then why haven’t you sent me a single message today?”

My hand paused. “I've been busy with the studio. There was nothing I needed to tell you.”

Declan stiffened, displeasure crossing his face. “I use Do Not Disturb because I can’t be interrupted while handling pack affairs. Don’t use it to take a shot at me.”

I looked up from the contract. “I never asked you to spend every moment with me, Declan. I called because I was in an emergency department and needed my mate. That isn’t the same thing.”

He said nothing.

“I’ve stopped messaging because I’m tired of having to explain the difference.”

For once, Declan had no immediate answer. After several seconds, he entered the bathroom with a dark expression. Water began running soon afterward.

An email notification appeared in the corner of my computer screen. It was from Julia. The attachments contained the drafted mate-relationship termination agreement and the application to withdraw my future-Luna registration.

At the end of the email, Julia had written: [Please review the agreement first.] [If you have no objections, I recommend discussing it with Mr. Hawthorne. Once both parties sign, the Pack Council can update the registration promptly.]

I stared at the lines for a long time. I no longer intended to mention the pup. But I had thought that ending our relationship should at least be explained face-to-face.

The bathroom door opened. “Declan.”

He dried his hair with a towel. “What is it?”

“Our mate relationship—”

His phone rang before I could continue. Declan answered and put the call on speaker.

“Declan, my ankle is swollen again.”

His brow furrowed immediately. “Can you put weight on it?”

“Barely. The brace feels so tight that my foot is going numb.” Sloane lowered her voice. “I’m alone, and I don’t know whether I injured the ligament again.”

Declan dropped the towel. “Don’t move. I’m coming over.”

After ending the call, he picked up his coat. I looked at him. “Didn’t the doctor say nothing was broken and she only needed rest?”

“Ligament injuries can still worsen.”

He seemed to remember that I had been speaking. “What were you going to say?”

Before I could answer, he had already taken his car keys. “Never mind. It can’t be urgent. We’ll talk when I get back.”

I watched the door close, then replied to Julia. [I have no objections. Proceed with this version.]

I sat for a while and looked down at my ring finger. I had worn the mate ring for three full years. I never removed it to shower or work. Even when an allergic reaction made my finger swell painfully, I had been reluctant to take it off.

I used to believe that as long as the ring remained, I was still the mate Declan had publicly claimed. Once he formally became Alpha, we would complete the permanent mark. Now I pinched the band and slowly slid it from my finger. It left a pale, unmistakable circle behind.

I placed the ring in a drawer beside the medical center’s accident report and pregnancy-loss record. Ending a three-year mate relationship, once I had truly decided, required nothing more than removing one ring.

Declan had not returned by one in the morning. In the past, I would already have asked when he was coming home. This time, I closed my computer and switched off the living room and porch lights. I did not ask when he would return, and I did not leave a light burning for him.

That night, for the first time, it made no difference whether he came home at all.