Chapter 3

Memories dragged me back two years. That was when I first noticed Julian coming home later and later.

He told me he was expanding the border hunting grounds.

I believed him, because that was what an Alpha was supposed to do.

But now, I understood everything.

He was hunting for Celeste. Conquering land for her. Building the home I had never been allowed to see.

That dull, crushing pain of betrayal surged like a tide, forcing my hand to my chest just to breathe.

"What's wrong, Amanda?" Julian noticed immediately and stood.

I didn't answer. A wave of nausea surged violently through my stomach. I covered my mouth tightly.

Cold sweat broke across my skin. Even the smell of meat suddenly felt suffocating.

I knew it—the onset of pregnancy symptoms, at any moment, anywhere.

"Are you alright?" Celeste's voice drifted in again, light and careless. "I've heard some shewolves who desperately want to conceive end up experiencing psychosomatic reactions like this."

As she spoke, she shifted her shoulders deliberately. Her silver fox cloak slipped down, revealing a soft nursing robe underneath, stretched taut over unmistakable curves.

"I'm quite fine, actually," she continued slowly, her tone sticky and sweet like syrup. "Even after giving birth to twins at once, I didn't suffer much. Of course, that's because my mate takes very good care of me."

"Celeste!" Julian slammed his hand on the table. The sound cracked through the hall. "Shut your mouth! Amanda is unwell—who has time to listen to your personal matters?"

Celeste went pale. She glared at Julian, then shot me a venomous look before falling silent, her chest rising and falling sharply.

I could not sit any longer. I shoved my chair back and stumbled out, rushing into the washroom.

When I returned, my face was still wet from cold water.

The nausea had eased slightly until I saw Celeste standing alone at the corner.

My body reacted before my mind did, tightening with instinctive resistance. I tried to avoid her.

"Feeling better?" she asked, ignoring my attempt to pass. She tilted her head and stepped closer, feigning concern. "I should have been more considerate earlier. The pain of not being able to become a mother must be difficult for someone like me to understand. If you'd like, I can bring my two pups to visit you more often."

"Are you done talking yet, Celeste?" I stopped walking and cut her off coldly. "Brandishing those fatherless bastards everywhere—aren't you afraid someone might one day tear your throat out?"

"Amanda, you're practically shaking with jealousy, aren't you?"

She laughed softly. The sound pierced like needles. "Who told you my pups don't have a father? Their father is the strongest werewolf in this entire territory. Tomorrow is their first birthday—he will personally come to bless them."

She leaned in slightly. I could smell the sickly-sweet scent of milk on her.

"Don't be naive," she said. "You are a good shewolf, yes—and Julian's destined mate. But so what? A barren Luna is nothing but a discarded piece eventually. Let's make a bet. When the time comes, see whether he chooses you—or the heirs who can continue his bloodline."

I said nothing.

There was no need.

From the moment I saw that bloodline record, the countdown had already begun. Her provocation only hastened what was inevitable.

But I still wanted one final confirmation from Julian. Not the high and mighty Alpha, but the Julian who once swore to live and die with me.

I still wanted to know whether he would leave me a final memory—something real, something unforgettable.

The next day was our marking anniversary. I cooked dinner. The kitchen was warm, filled with the rich aroma of stewed meat.

I wore an apron, my movements slightly clumsy but careful, as I prepared everything. It was the first—and last—meal I would ever make for him.

By the time he returned from the hunt, night had fallen.

He pushed open the door, and the familiar chill mixed with the scent of blood rushed in. Yet, when he saw the table, he froze.

"What's this…"

He removed his cloak, disbelief flickering in his eyes.

"An anniversary dinner," I said calmly, placing the final dish of roasted meat on the table. "Sit and eat."

He sat, watching me with a complicated trace of guilt.

During the meal, he spoke a great deal—about the stability of the border, the growth of the pack, even the valley project. He said construction had begun; when the pups in our pack grew older, they could run freely there.

His voice was gentle, like he was painting a living future.

I listened quietly, holding my wine glass, then spoke.

"Julian, what do you think about adopting a pup?"

His hand paused mid-motion. He looked up, brow faintly furrowed.

"Adopting?"

"Yes." I nodded, meeting his eyes calmly. "I know I may not be able to bear you pups. If we adopted one and raised it as our own… would you be willing?"

His gaze softened immediately. He reached out and took my hand.

"Don't say such things. We don't need to adopt. As long as I have you, pups don't matter."

"And if—" I hesitated, then whispered, "if there were another way? For example… you having pups with another shewolf. I would raise them as my own, as long as you stayed with me."

His wine glass shattered in his hand. Shards pierced his palm. Blood mixed with wine dripped onto the table.

He stared at me, and for the first time, raw fury replaced all pretense.

That was not an act. That was real rage.

"Say that again."

His voice was hoarse. His knuckles turned white. "You want me to betray you… to mate with another she-wolf? Amanda, even thinking that is an insult to me!"

He stood abruptly and pulled me into his arms with force that hurt.

"I would rather burn alive than touch another shewolf!"

He almost roared the words into my ear, breath scorching my skin. "My mark belongs only to you. Even without pups—even if my line ends with me—I only want you!"

Burn alive.

The words struck through my mind like lightning. I froze against his chest, listening to his frantic heartbeat, then suddenly laughed. It was light, but filled with unbearable sorrow.

"No, Julian," I said quietly. "My body cannot bear your pups. If that vow carries consequences… then perhaps it will fall on me. Do you still wish to swear such a curse?"

"Enough!" He cut me off sharply, lifting my face so I had no choice but to meet his eyes. "I will not let anything harm you—"

At that moment, his Beta rushed in and whispered urgently into his ear.

I saw it instantly—Julian's expression changed.

The tenderness shattered. Panic and urgency replaced it.

"Something's happened at the borders."

He didn't finish. He only gripped my shoulder tightly, his burning fingers searing my skin.

"Amanda, I have to go. I'll be back soon. Wait for me."

Without even wiping the blood from his hand, he turned and disappeared into the night.

I stood still, staring at the door he had slammed shut.

The dishes on the table were still steaming. The scent of stewed meat mixed faintly with blood.

I walked over slowly and looked at the untouched roast. Then I turned and walked toward the armory.

That night, I took nothing with me.

I changed into my oldest robe, picked up the barrel of fire oil I had prepared long ago, and walked through the estate.

Study, hall, corridor, bedroom—every place we had ever left a memory, I soaked carefully.

In the darkest hour before dawn, I stood atop the tallest dead tree outside the estate.

The wind was sharp, tearing through my hair.

I looked at the oak door he had opened for me countless times—and closed just as many—and lit the torch in my hand.

The flames rose instantly, like a beast awakening, devouring the dry wood with hunger. Thick smoke billowed upward, firelight swallowing the night and staining half the sky red.

I did not cry. I did not feel relief. I only remembered what he had said hours earlier.

"I would rather burn alive than touch another shewolf."

Now he would not have to choose.

Fire could consume everything—oaths, betrayal, and even a displaced Luna like me.

I watched it burn until the horizon paled with dawn. Then I turned and walked away.