So to everyone else, it had always been clear. The only one blinded was me.
“The Alpha of Moonhowl Pack was chosen for you long ago,” she continued gently. “Your father and I vetted him ourselves. His bloodline is strong, his reputation untainted, his family among the most respected in our territory. My Rowena deserves nothing less than the best.”
I drew in a slow breath, steadying the tremor in my chest. “Thank you, Mom. I trust your and Dad’s judgment.”
“Then, should we arrange for you two to meet in the next couple of days?”
“No need,” I whispered. “Just… prepare the wedding.”
When I hung up, a faint rustle made me turn. Alpha Leopold stood behind me, a small cake balanced in his hand, his brows knitted in confusion. “Wedding? Who’s getting married?”
Me, my wolf snarled silently. But when the words reached my lips, I swallowed them down.
I forced a calm smile. “No one important. Just a friend.”
Relief flickered across his face so quickly I almost missed it. The sight made my heart twist in agony. Was he worried I’d pressure him into mating with me? Or… that I had already found out he intended to take his precious Beta, Sophie, as his Luna?
“I got you that cake you love from your favorite shop,” he said, holding it out with a faint smile. “Want to eat it now?”
Once, I would have melted at such a gesture. I used to believe these little offerings meant I was cherished, remembered. That even if he hadn’t marked me yet, he cared. But tonight, staring at the box in his hands, all I tasted was ash and betrayal.
Not long ago, I had noticed Sophie switched her Instagram from private to public. A few idle scrolls through her feed was all it took to unravel the lie. The cake wasn’t mine—it was hers.
The nuts, the snacks, the little delicacies… they were her favorites.
Even the habit of bringing “me” food after work—that had started the day Sophie became his Beta.
So tell me, Leopold—when you looked at me across the table, when you pushed those treats into my hands, when you said you remembered my tastes… was it Rowena you saw, or Sophie?
I swallowed the ache clawing at my throat and said flatly, “I don’t like sweets. They’re too rich. Don’t buy them for me anymore.”
His brows furrowed. “Why not? You’ve never said you didn’t like them before.”
After all these years, if he had truly cared, he would have known. But some things, once repeated over and over without being heard, become exhausting… and eventually, they fade into silence.
I didn’t correct him. I didn’t bare my wounds. I only murmured, “Tastes change.”