Chapter 1

Celine's POV

Winona Anville’s expression darkened instantly.

I grabbed her hand before she could raise it.

She turned around. Her eyes were even redder than mine.

“She did that on purpose! I already told all the shewolves in the pack that the bouquet was meant for you.”

“Winona,” I interrupted softly. “The marking ceremony isn’t over yet.”

By now, the crowd’s attention had already shifted away from me and Alpha Derrick Anderson.

Following the bouquet, all eyes settled on Lianna Everton.

Holding the bouquet, she cast a glimmering glance at Derrick.

Derrick had already stepped back calmly to the edge of the crowd.

The pack elders, who were seasoned and quick-witted, tossed in a few playful remarks and soon stirred the atmosphere back into lively celebration.

Winona shot one last resentful look before turning away to continue the ceremony.

Through the rest of it, I swallowed my pain and silently endured the looks from all directions. Some were sympathetic, while others were probing.

Derrick sat on the other side. He was chatting and laughing with the other members of the pack.

Lianna sat close beside him. It was far closer than any secretary should.

She hadn’t even been invited.

Derrick had been bringing her along to events more and more lately. He claimed it was to give her exposure.

He even brought her to my best friend’s marking ceremony.

Winona, arm-in-arm with her groom, walked over to me.

She hugged me tightly and leaned close to whisper through clenched jaws so only I could hear her.

“That shewolf’s been scheming her way closer to your Alpha for six months. I had someone look into her. She’s dangerous. Derrick–”

“Winona.” I gently patted her back and cut her off. “Today is your marking ceremony. Don’t ruin it with things like this.”

She huffed softly but said no more.

After the ceremony, the guests gradually left.

Only then did Derrick walk over. He seemed as composed as ever. “Shall we head back?”

He naturally picked up my purse. His other arm draped over my shoulder out of habit.

I shifted slightly and avoided his touch.

“You’ve been drinking. Let's get the driver.”

He didn’t seem to mind. He only nodded. “Alright.”

The car drove into the night.

My reflection appeared blurry on the window.

My makeup was flawless, but it couldn't conceal the exhaustion in my eyes.

“About today,” he said suddenly. "Lianna did get the bouquet first. She’s young. She probably just wanted to share in the joy.

“It went back to the right shewolf. Don’t take it to heart.”

I didn’t reply. I just stared at the neon lights we zoomed past outside.

After a moment of silence, he finally looked up from his phone. “Are you upset?”

He leaned closer and said, “Didn’t I say you'd get it next time?"

He brushed his fingers through my loose hair and gently rubbed the back of my neck. His touch was tender. It was as if he were soothing a sulking pup.

“Our marking ceremony will definitely be better than Winona’s. You can have as many bouquets as you want, alright?”

A quiet bitterness spread through my chest.

He was always like this.

He'd use that gentle tone to make a vague promise about doing something the next time.

He assumed everything should simply be smoothed over.

“Derrick,” I said while watching his reflection in the window.

“Hmm?”

“When Winona and I were pups, we made a vow to the Moon Goddess,” I said calmly. “Whoever had their marking ceremony first, the other couldn’t be more than a week apart.

“We were supposed to hold our marking ceremonies under the moon while being each other's witness to our shared happiness."

Silence filled the car.

His hand at my neck stopped moving.

“You’re still taking puphood promises seriously?” he chuckled.

His hand moved again. It now felt impatient. “Plans don’t work like that anymore. Venues, schedules, and arrangements take months, and sometimes even a year, to prepare.

“We’ll plan it properly and give you the perfect marking ceremony. What’s the rush?”

He didn’t explain why he hadn’t dared to promise to mark me in public.

Instead, he shifted the conversation to how to plan a perfect marking ceremony.

I suddenly recalled how Winona had dragged me along excitedly to try on a dress she had designed herself a month before her marking ceremony.

It was a light-beige dress. The waistline was adorned with delicate pearls.

When I put it on, her eyes lit up before inexplicably turning red.

“Celine Keller, you look stunning in this.

“I made this especially for you. When you hold your marking ceremony, I’ll make you an even more beautiful dress!”

Derrick had been there too.

He had been replying to work messages with his head lowered. When he heard that, he glanced up briefly, smiled, and said, “It’s nice.”

His gaze dropped back to the screen, and he started typing furiously again.

At that moment, I felt both genuine happiness for my best friend and an aching sorrow for my own eight-year relationship that had led nowhere.