Chapter 2

When I got home, I sat on the couch for a long time.

The truth was, I had understood what was wrong between us last month.

Whenever I brought up Sadie, Mason said, “She’s like a sister to me. She came here alone because she trusted me. I can’t just abandon her.”

At first, I believed him.

His care had been too real. So had his companionship.

It was difficult to doubt a man who had once carried me out of the woods through a blizzard.

Then he got drunk at a gathering.

I went to pick him up, and several equally drunk friends let the truth slip in front of me.

“You didn’t know Mason used to like Sadie?”

“They grew up together. You don’t just get over something like that. He told her how he felt before he started pursuing you. She turned him down.”

“He said your smile reminded him of hers.”

“Don’t overthink it, though. We all told him to treat you right. Back then, Sadie thought he wasn’t good enough because he didn’t even have decent territory. Now that Ashridge is doing well, here she is.”

A sharp chime sounded in the kitchen.

My medicine was warm.

I dragged myself out of the memory, picked up the cup, and swallowed the bitter tonic.

The healer had explained it clearly: a werewolf’s healing abilities could close wounds, but they could not restore tissue repeatedly damaged by wolfsbane.

Take the medicine on schedule.

Eat regularly.

I knew all of it.

Lately, I kept forgetting.

I set down the empty cup, picked up a pen, and crossed a date off the calendar.

Fourteen days left.

Then I began sorting my belongings.

There was less to take from Chicago to New York than I had expected.

Clothes. Identification. Original work files.

Everything else could be given away or thrown out.

I didn’t want to leave my things for whoever moved in after me.

Especially not Sadie.

After two trips to the trash, I was exhausted.

I showered, climbed into bed, and opened Instagram.

Sadie had just posted.

**By day, everyone’s Alpha. By night, the man who stands in line to buy me cake. He says he’s going to make up for all the years we missed.**

The photograph showed a slice of strawberry cake.

A man’s watch hung loosely around the wrist holding the box.

It was the matching half of mine.

The day Ashridge secured its first long-term trade agreement, Mason and I had been awake for several nights straight.

That contract meant we could finally repair the winter residences instead of worrying that our newest members would leave.

Too excited to sleep, he took me to Michigan Avenue.

I had stood outside that luxury store many times without ever considering going inside.

That day, he bought the matching watches I loved.

I told him they were too expensive.

He fastened mine around my wrist, took my hand, and bent to hug me.

“Audrey, from now on, I’ll buy you everything you like.”

Afterward, he almost never removed his watch except to shower or sleep.

Once, his former assistant accidentally knocked it onto the floor and scratched the face. His expression darkened immediately, and he had the assistant reassigned.

Everyone in Ashridge knew how much the Alpha treasured that watch.

Just as he treasured me.

The thought was laughable now.

I took off my watch, photographed it, and listed it on a resale site.

Mason didn’t come home that night.

The next day, I slept until noon before going to the council hall to submit my resignation.

As the territory had become more stable over the past two years, my work had centered on the planning department.

Several people congratulated me on my way to personnel.

Brooke pulled me into her office, grinning.

“Have you and Mason finally set a date?”

I stared at her.

“For what?”

Brooke was one of Ashridge’s earliest members and a close friend. She rarely bothered with tact.

“Come on. With preparations like these, how could anyone miss it?”

“What preparations?”

She covered her mouth, suddenly uncertain.

“You really don’t know? Maybe it’s supposed to be a surprise.”

“Brooke.”

After studying me for a moment, she gave in.

“Someone saw a florist deliver an entire crate of pink roses to Mason. It isn’t your birthday or your anniversary. What else would it be, if not a proposal?”

Pink roses.

The same flowers he had taken to the airport when Sadie arrived two months ago.

My fingers tightened until my nails pressed into my palm.

Brooke glanced at the papers I was holding.

“What’s that?”

“My resignation.”

“Oh!” Understanding brightened her face. “You’re handing over your work before the ceremony?”

I didn’t correct her.

She signed the forms, complaining as she did.

“He should have warned me. Where am I supposed to find someone who can replace you as planning director on such short notice?”

She handed them back.

“All that’s missing is Mason’s signature. Under the founding charter, the other cofounder has to approve the transfer of your position and your cross-territory project clearance.”

Then she paused.

“Audrey, I don’t know whether giving up your work to become Luna is the best choice. But I hope you’ll be happy.”

I took the papers.

“I will be.”

That happiness simply had nothing to do with Mason anymore.