Summon

I was a human girl raised in turns by vampires, elves, and werewolves. To repay them, I signed a three-year repayment contract with all three races, dividing my time and service among their leaders. When the vampire count was weakened by sunlight, I cut open my wrist and let him drink my blood. When the elven prince's Tree of Life began to wither, I stepped into the forbidden forest and traded ten years of my life with a witch in exchange for spring water that restored the tree to full vitality. When the werewolf Alpha's wolf spirit grew restless, I searched for the herbs that could soothe him. I always knew my place, and I never crossed the line. The vampire count sneered at me. "Leah, you're more obedient than the blood servants I keep. The moment I summon you, you offer your wrist on your own." The elven prince warned coldly, "This is only a transaction. Once the Tree of Life recovers, you will leave as agreed. Don't imagine I would ever make an exception for you." The werewolf Alpha tossed a check at my feet. "This is your contract fee for the next three years. It's enough to last you a lifetime. Don't forget this. You haven't been marked, so don't overstep." Later, I finally repaid everything and prepared to return to the human world. The vampire count was willing to stand under the burning sun just to make me stay. The elven prince threatened to destroy the Tree of Life if I left. The werewolf Alpha dropped to one knee and presented me with the Luna's crown. In unison, they said, "You're not allowed to marry anyone else."

My son is gravely ill. His inner wolf is too weak to awaken, and the healer warns that without the Alpha’s blood to strengthen his spirit, he may not last the next full moon. He clutches my hand, his feverish golden eyes dimming. “Mother, can Father take me to the Barnum & Bailey Circus？” But no matter how many times I summon my mate through the pack bond, he does not answer. His presence in the mind-link is an empty void. I can only hold my son as his small body trembles. I whisper stories of wolf warriors and great Alphas, but his breathing grows weaker. When the dawn breaks, his tiny fingers slip from mine. His wolf never wakes. A few days later, the scent of wild roses floods our pack’s sacred grounds. I turn—and there he is. My mate. My Alpha. He strides into the hall with my sister cradled in his arms. Her neck bears his fresh scent mark. His mark. I watch as he presses a lingering kiss to her lips, his hands caressing her like a treasure. Their love is bold, shameless—an unspoken declaration to the entire pack. And only then do I learn the truth. While my son lay fighting for his life, waiting for his father’s touch, longing for his Alpha’s strength… my mate was deep in Rose Valley, tangled in passion with my own blood. I thought my heart had long since gone cold from his neglect, but at that moment, it shatters. I make my decision. I will leave this pack. Yet just as I turn to walk away, the mate who had only ever treated me with indifference suddenly drops to his knees. A broken sob rips from his throat. For the first time, my proud, untouchable Alpha weeps.