Chapter 3

Chloe had been running a fever for the past two days. After breakfast, she took some medicine and went back to bed.

I finished an assignment, then headed downstairs for a glass of water. Mrs. Voss was putting on her coat by the door.

“Are you going somewhere?” I asked.

She sighed. “Adrian rushed out to the team facility and left his match files here. I'm taking them to him.”

Then she gave a small, puzzled laugh.

“I don't know what's gotten into him today. He is never this careless.”

I caught her arm before I'd even thought it through.

“I can take them. You should stay here and rest.”

“Oh, I couldn't ask you to do that.”

“You aren't asking. I don't have anything else to do.”

I had never been comfortable owing people favors.

Winter Moon Festival was the most important family holiday on the werewolf calendar, and the university dorms closed for the entire week.

My parents traveled the world with a research team studying ancient wolf sites, and a blizzard had stranded them overseas.

When Chloe found out I had nowhere to go, she invited me to spend the festival with her family.

After everything the Vosses had done for me, delivering a folder was the least I could do.

Mrs. Voss finally relented and texted me the address.

As soon as I got into the Uber, I searched Adrian's name.

The VALORANT scene appeared to agree on three things: his aim was vicious, his instincts were terrifying, and pressure only made him colder.

In six years as a pro, he had led his team to three global titles. He was widely considered the best duelist in the world—and the most valuable player in the league.

It was hard to imagine a man like that falling for someone online.

I had just started college when we met. I was alone in a new city, and gaming filled the quiet hours between classes.

The first time Adrian and I queued together, he informed me in a flat voice that my mechanics were terrible and told me to stay behind him.

After that, we started playing together regularly. He carried me all the way to the highest rank, and before long, our nightly games became the best part of my day.

An online romance could still trigger a rush of dopamine. It still made me happy, even if only for a little while.

But I had enough sense to protect myself. I told him I had already graduated from college and never gave him my real name.

I wouldn't send photos. I rejected every video call. The most I allowed was thirty minutes of voice chat each night.

Adrian, on the other hand, let me into every corner of his life.

He gave me every break between scrims. He told me about his days in absurd detail.

The night his team won the world championship, he skipped the victory party and called me from an empty players' lounge. He kept calling me baby and said the only reward he wanted was to finally see me.

The more serious he became, the more frightened I was.

On my nineteenth birthday, the last late bloomer I knew finally awakened her wolf.

My family reminded me that a witch had once predicted my wolf would be extraordinary.

I no longer believed them.

A werewolf without a wolf was considered damaged. Incomplete.

Adrian was an elite athlete with an exceptionally powerful bloodline. His wolf was so dominant that interviewers had asked him about it on live television.

The more he wanted a future with me, the less I could bear to show him what I really was.

Then, that same night, he asked to meet in person.

He told me that other people's scents no longer registered with him. He said that even if his fated mate appeared tomorrow, he would still choose me.

I stared at the message for a long time.

I had no wolf. I would never feel a mate bond.

If I stayed, sooner or later he would see me and realize I could never be enough for him.

So I sent two messages.

[There's no point in meeting.]

[I'm bored with this. Let's end it.]

Then I deleted him and blocked every account he had.

I even removed him from my friends list in-game.

I'd assumed enough time had passed for Adrian to forget what we'd had.

From the way Chloe talked about it, I was beginning to think I'd been very wrong.