“Since the pack’s administrative hall is unusually quiet today,” Kaelen said offhandedly, as if the thought had just occurred to him, “why don’t I take you out and choose another ring? Something more imposing. Call it a reward—for holding everything together these past few days.”
Liora’s brows knit reflexively. A polite refusal had already reached the edge of her tongue when the sharp buzz of his phone cut cleanly through the air. Kaelen glanced down, and the shift in him was immediate—subtle, but unmistakable to someone who had lived beside the same wolf for years.
He rose at once, already halfway to the door. Then, as if a lingering instinct tugged at him from behind, he hesitated and turned back. Lowering himself, he brushed a kiss against her forehead. It was light, careful—almost restrained, as though he were afraid of pressing too hard.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured. “Pack affairs have been relentless. I know I’ve neglected you.” His voice softened, slipping into something gentler. “Once things stabilize, I swear I’ll make it up to you. I’ll give you everything. I’ll make you happier than anyone else in this territory.”
In nearly ten years of sharing a den, of being bound by promise and proximity, Kaelen had never spoken to Liora in that tone.
He had always believed affection was something most women required in abundance—soft words, repeated reassurances, constant attention. Liora had never seemed to need any of that. She was steady. Rational. A she-wolf who learned early how to stand without leaning on anyone.
That kind of indulgence had always been reserved for Marcella—the one who fed on affection, who could unravel into tears over the slightest neglect and demand to be soothed.
Now, however, guilt had sunk its teeth into him. The persistent discomfort of knowing he had failed Liora drove this sudden display of tenderness, an awkward attempt to soothe the unrest clawing at his conscience.
Liora offered nothing in return. No smile. No frown. Her face was placid, unreadable—like the surface of a moonlit lake hiding unseen depths beneath.
Once Kaelen left, Liora rose and walked toward the bathroom. Her steps were measured, unhurried. She turned on the tap and washed her face slowly, deliberately, as if rinsing away not just the faint warmth of his touch, but the illusion behind it.
Affection offered too late meant nothing. Nor did gestures born from regret rather than love. She wanted none of it.
The days slipped past in quiet succession until the eve of the mating ceremony arrived. Only two fragile pages clung to the lunar calendar now, edges curling. The wish written across today’s square read: Have a family dinner together.
For more than twenty years, Liora had carried that hope in silence. But she had always known it was nothing more than fantasy. Her mother would never forgive her father—and Liora, in turn, would never truly forgive Kaelen.
She didn’t linger on it.
Light makeup. Her favorite white dress. One steady breath. Then she stepped out alone.
She watched a movie by herself. Ordered a paired meal meant for lovers and ate it in silence. She boarded the Ferris wheel without company, sitting still as it carried her upward.
At the highest point, the sun was sinking. Amber light spilled across the city she had grown up in, bathing familiar pack lands in gold. A breeze brushed her cheeks. Liora lifted her arms slightly, feeling as though her memories were loosening, scattering into the open sky.
When night settled fully, she bought herself an ice cream and left the amusement grounds. Sitting on a nearby bench, she savored the cold sweetness while gazing upward.
The stars had always been her refuge. On the nights she’d been driven from home, it was a younger Kaelen who had once lain beside her in the grass, fingers entwined with hers as they traced constellations across the dark.
But that past no longer mattered.
People changed. Wolves strayed. The stars, however, remained—constant and indifferent. No matter where she went, the same lights would shine above her, unwavering and eternal.
She finished the ice cream, stood, and began the walk home. Overhead, the stars shimmered faintly as her phone vibrated.
A message from Marcella.
[Dad made sweet-and-sour fish tonight. It’s amazing. You’ve probably never tasted it, have you?]
Liora opened the attached video. Laughter filled the screen. Red ceremonial decorations adorned the room. Kaelen and Marcella sat at the center of the table, surrounded by family, smiling as they discussed the upcoming mating ceremony.
Marcella’s quiet, deliberate cruelty didn’t anger Liora. She had endured far worse in her life.
Instead, she found it faintly absurd.
The ceremony everyone was so busy preparing for—
Whose was it, really?
