Chapter 2

I leaned against the car window, staring at the encrypted message on my phone.

It was from Leon, the most trusted Beta of my father—the Alpha King who ruled all the packs in North America.

"Lady Valerie, the Alpha King has reserved the last three days for the Heir Declaration. The private jet is on standby. He is waiting for you to come home."

Three years ago, to escape the powerful Alpha Silas Thorne—the fated mate the Moon Goddess had chosen for me—I stubbornly believed I should be the one to choose my own mate.

I hid my noble Sterling last name, suppressed my Alpha bloodline, and came to this remote Crescent Ridge pack all alone.

Here, I accidentally saved a heavily injured Wyatt.

To repay me, he slowly wove himself into my life. My attitude toward him softened from distant caution to genuine affection.

Then came that grand, romantic confession.

He covered the streets with my favorite roses, got down on one knee in front of his pack, and said, "Let me take care of you, Valerie."

Moved by his devotion, I thought I had finally found my chosen mate.

Even up until today, I had it all planned out. After the bonding ceremony, I was going to tell him the truth. I was going to bring him to my parents and share my glory with him.

Even though my father desperately wanted me to accept my fated mate, Silas, I never wavered.

But all I got in return was Wyatt delaying our ceremony again and again for his ridiculous bets.

Today, Wyatt proved once and for all that he wasn't worth it.

I took a deep breath, my fingers flying across the screen without a second thought:

"I'll board the plane in three days."

The moment I hit send, I let out a low laugh.

Admitting you aren't loved won't kill you. I just felt sorry for the girl I used to be.

I went back to Wyatt's estate.

Not long after, a blinding flash of lightning ripped across the sky, followed by a deafening crack of thunder.

The downpour began.

I instinctively flinched, all the color draining from my face.

I had a crippling fear of thunderstorms. When I was a pup, I was attacked by rogue wolves during a stormy night. The trauma had haunted me ever since.

Wyatt knew this.

During our first year together, to calm my fears, he held my shaking body and wrote a vow on a piece of paper: "I, Wyatt, swear on my wolf that for every thunderstorm from now on, I will hold Valerie in my arms and never let her face the dark alone."

I had kept that piece of paper safely tucked in my jewelry box by the bed.

But tonight, I knew he wouldn't come back.

I curled up in the corner of the sofa, wrapping myself tightly in a blanket.

I told myself: I can face this fear without him.

Just as I was sweating and gritting my teeth through the storm, I heard the click of the front door unlocking.

My stupid heart skipped a beat: Did Wyatt remember his promise? Did he rush back for me?

The door opened. Wyatt was indeed back, but he wasn't alone.

He was holding a heavily intoxicated Harper in his arms.

Harper was practically glued to him, mumbling sticky, drunken nonsense, while Wyatt carefully guided her so she wouldn't bump into the doorframe.

He saw my pale face and clearly remembered my fear of storms.

He hesitated, taking a half-step toward me, but Harper tugged at his hand.

Wyatt looked at Harper, then at me.

And then he made his choice. "Harper drank too much at the party. She's feeling sick and needs someone to watch over her. I'll stay with her in the guest room tonight. Be a good girl and go to sleep."

Without another glance, he carried Harper upstairs.

The guest room door clicked shut. I could faintly hear Harper's whiny giggles and Wyatt's low, soothing voice.

I didn't cry when I was humiliated like a clown in the banquet hall, but in this moment, the tears fell.

My wolf whimpered in dull pain. A quiet confirmation that my chosen mate bond had entirely failed.

I wiped my face, strode into the bedroom, and yanked the parchment vow out of the nightstand. With a blank face, I ripped it to shreds and dropped it into the trash.

Then, I pulled out two suitcases and started packing.

I didn't actually have much. Over the last three years, not wanting to be a burden, I never bought any luxury items. I only packed the clothes I came with, and the token at the bottom of my bag—the crest symbolizing my identity as the Alpha King's heir.

Soon, I rolled my suitcases toward the front door.

The sound of the wheels caught the attention of the man inside. Wyatt walked out, his shirt slightly unbuttoned and messy. When he saw the bags, his face darkened instantly.

"Valerie, what kind of tantrum is this now?" Wyatt marched over, trying to snatch the handle of my luggage. "It's the middle of the night, and there's a storm outside. Where exactly are you going?"

Seeing my cold expression, he softened his voice, using the same coaxing tone he always used when making peace. "I know you felt wronged tonight. I promise you, next year on the full moon, I will throw you the grandest bonding ceremony this pack has ever seen. Every wolf will envy you."

But I didn't need his cheap gentleness anymore.

I dodged his hand and glared at him coldly.

"It's not a tantrum. I am never going to be your mate."