The Healer Who Stopped Healing Him

The music at the Full Moon feast was deafening. I bent down, fumbling with the strap on my heel. When I looked up, they were already gone. My fated mate, Callum—the feared Alpha of the Red Maple pack—and Freya, my once-best friend. I started to follow. To lift my dress and run. But the space by his side—my space, the Luna's space—was already gone. Their bodies were pressed close. Whispering about pack politics. Things I'd never understand. It was like I wasn't even there. An outsider. I always knew we'd have an arranged marriage. Callum and me. Finding out we were Mates was no surprise. Our wolves were made for each other. A fatal attraction. Until Freya proved herself as a lethal fighter. She used to be the one I told everything to. Now, she was Alpha Callum's sharpest claw. His most trusted Beta. To everyone in the Alliance, they were the Red Maple pack's power couple. They shared the glory, the blood, the battles against rogues. And me? I spent every waking hour in the pack hospital, healing our people, pulling them back from death's door. But to him, I was just a fragile healer who needed protecting. Forever locked out of his world of blood and instinct. Callum loved to run his thumb over the back of my neck, right over the spot he'd only partially marked. The possessive scent made my knees weak. "My sweet Tessa," he'd growl. "You don't need to see the ugliness. Your innocence is what I love." Then he'd turn. And he and Freya would disappear into the smoke and darkness to handle the pack's violent "business." This time, watching them walk away, a bone-deep exhaustion washed over me. I was done. Done chasing a man who would never turn around.