Her Love, Taken For Granted

After seven long years by his side, things finally changed on my birthday. Ashton Maguire—my mate, the one I'd always believed was meant for me—sent me 9,999 roses. A bouquet for a true bond, so I thought. He also sent a set of lace lingerie, a strange choice for someone like Ashton who never really cared about grand gestures and affection. I posted the flowers proudly, only for a comment to appear beneath the photo. His “secretary” JoAnn, left the words, “Some wolves pick up only the scraps I leave behind.” I was surprised to see such strange comments from someone who worked in Ashton’s office

That was when the truth clawed its way to the surface: he’d bought her a house, close to ours. The roses, the lace—everything was meant for her. Everything became crystal clear, I sensed an affair was going on between

I didn’t think twice. With the full moon rising behind me, I took the roses and followed the scent that now seemed so bitter. I found them, candlelight illuminating their secret. There he was, the wolf I’d pledged my life to, looking at her with a tenderness I’d never received. His gaze sharpened as he saw me, his eyes gleaming with a cold silver light. “Can you stop being so paranoid?” he snapped. “JoAnn and I are just discussing territory boundaries. Besides, if she really mattered more than you, would you even have had the chance to mark me?”

In the past, I would have raised my voice, might have bared my fangs and demanded the truth. But not tonight. With a calmness I didn’t know I possessed, I tossed the bouquet and my engagement band, letting the weight of my decision settle in the air. “I wish you both all the happiness you deserve,” I said,with a voice cold as ice.

The band rolled to his feet, and he crushed it under his heel, as if it were nothing more than dust. “If you want to keep me, change your paranoid nature. Get out of here and reflect on yourself,” he sneered with annoyance written all over him. Ashton has always treated me poorly in the presence of many. No wonder, I had little respect from people.

I felt a sense of relief wash over me, strange feelings yet liberating, as I turned my back on him and left. As the sun rose, I sent a message to my family pack, announcing the betrayal and calling off the engagement. Ashton always quick to play the innocent one, posted an image of his workspace, claiming he was just dealing with “pack business” alongside a “female subordinate.” Then he twisted the blade further, saying: “Katy, you’re throwing a fit because I didn’t buy you that ceremonial pelt. I haven’t even complained about you drinking at gatherings with other males.”

The family chat erupted, with my mother’s voice cutting through first, her words as biting as a cold northern wind. She accused me of not being worthy of Ashton demanding I apologize and salvage our “bond.” She even threatened to exile herself if I failed to mend things with him.

My mother had always been volatile, ever since my parents’ separation fractured our pack. I had mistaken Ashton’s coldness for strength, his silence for stability. But over the years, I realized that the kindness he was capable of was reserved for JoAnn. I had merely been his anchor, something to keep his image stable, while his healrt wandered. Ashton was a casanova

He was skilled at breaking me down with subtle cruelty, taunting me until I bared my teeth in anger, only for him to play the role of the patient one. He had the pack convinced I was a crazed she-wolf, but this time, I wouldn’t play his game.

When I stepped away from the phone and out into the woods, the scent of the earth and wild grass around me, I felt a primal surge within. No longer would I be bound to a wolf who saw me as less than worthy. I had a wildness, a power that he couldn’t take from me. But after seven years, I’d learned to stop expecting kindness from him. Ashton had never been the man I thought he was, and the person I had once adored seemed to vanish over time, replaced by someone cold and distant. His patience, his gentleness—it wasn’t for me. It was always for JoAnn Reilly, the girl he was really kind to, the one who never got angry or disappointed. She was the one he smiled at with warmth, the one he treated like she mattered. But me? I was just a nuisance, a tool to vent his frustrations.