The Ninetieth Bonding Ceremony

After the pack dispersed, I made a phone call.

"Does our promise from five years ago still count?"

A soft chuckle came through the line. “It does.”

By the time I hung up, David's dramatic rescue of Amy had already gone viral on werewolf social media.

He had stormed into the auction hall, breaking every rule to carry Amy away, openly challenging every werewolf who dared bid on her.

The internet exploded with gossip. A few reminded the Pack that David already had a mate—but those voices were quickly drowned out by comments like:

“There's no first or last when it comes to a true mate.”

Later that day, Amy updated her Instagram:

“Two years of waiting… and today, I finally got what I wished for.”

The photo showed torn clothes scattered across the floor—and David's sleeping profile beside them.

I didn't scream.

I didn't break down like I did during the first eighty-eight Bonding Ceremonies.

I simply liked the post and commented:

“May the Moon Goddess bless you both forever.”

Ten minutes later, David called me.

“I just calmed Amy down, and now you're being passive-aggressive in the comments again?”

“I promise this is the last time. She won't act out anymore.”

I'd lost count of how many “last times” he'd promised me.

The first—Amy pretended to have a fever.

The second—she faked a car crash.

The third—her wolf had an allergy.

Every time Amy caused a scene, David gave in.

And every time, he looked at me and said:

“This is the last time.”

But there was always another.

And finally, I understood:

A wolf's promises are nothing but lies.

So I simply said,

“David, I reject you as my mate.”

He fell silent for a long moment. Then hung up.

When I arrived at the den, I found the lock had been changed.

Just as I reached for my phone to call a werewolf locksmith, the door opened.

Amy stood there—wearing my silk nightgown—leaning casually against the doorframe, smug and satisfied.

“David was worried about me being alone,” she said sweetly. “So he let me stay here for now. Oh… didn't he tell you?”

Then David appeared—shirtless, his chest covered in hickeys and scratch marks.

“Amy's wolf was still emotionally unstable,” he said. “I thought it'd be best if she stayed here for a while. I changed the lock so she wouldn't forget the password—it's her birthday now.”

I nodded, walked past him, and began packing my things.

David's smile faltered. Panic flashed across his face.

“Where are you going?”

It seemed he'd already forgotten—

I'd ended it with him just ten minutes ago.

Still, he wrapped his arms around me from behind as if nothing had changed.

“Let's go see the haunting this Moonlight Festival, okay?”

But before I could respond, Amy let out a soft moan from the doorway.

“Amy, what's wrong?”

His attention shifted instantly.

He looked into Amy's delicate face, filled with concern.

“David, my wolf isn't feeling well. Maybe it's the scent on this gown... I think I'm having an allergic reaction.”

Without hesitation, David scooped her up and disappeared into the bedroom.

He didn't look back. Not once.

As the door closed, Amy cast me a triumphant glance.

I let out a quiet laugh.

She didn't have to go that far.

Minutes later, the inevitable sounds of pleasure came from behind that door.

I let out a long, slow sigh.

But instead of agony, my wolf felt... relieved.

They finally got what they wanted.

Now, it was finally my turn—to fulfill a promise I'd made five years ago.