“Elara,” he began, his tone frustrated, “why are you being so harsh with Serena? She’s just a subordinate, and I was helping her get settled. It’s not a big deal.”
“Since when do you act like this?” I shot back. “At the pack's celebration party, you couldn’t even pretend to care about me. Now you’re bending over backward for her?”
“She’s new to the pack!” he snapped. “The company hasn’t arranged her workspace yet. Of course, I had to help. Why are you so insecure about this?”
In the background, I heard Serena’s soft voice. “Damon, don’t fight. I don’t want to come between you two, please?”
Her voice was dripping with sweetness, but I could see through it now.
I took a deep breath, my voice calm despite the storm inside me. “You’re right. My bad. Don’t worry—I’m already home. You don’t have to explain anything to me.”
When Damon heard the coldness in my voice, he hesitated, his usual confidence slipping. He tried to say something, but I hung up before he could finish. I could practically feel his frustration through the phone.
That was the last time I let Damon’s words affect me. I had a new future to focus on, one that didn’t include him.
Back at the apartment, my phone wouldn’t stop buzzing with notifications. I glanced at the screen and saw they were all from the pack chat. I hadn’t left it yet, even though I should’ve months ago.
At the top of the feed was a photo from Serena. She’d posted a picture of Damon assembling furniture at the new office. His sleeves were rolled up, hair slightly tousled, looking like some kind of corporate hero.
[Who else has an alpha this thoughtful?] she wrote, with a string of heart-eyed emojis. [Can I sign a lifetime contract already?]
The comments rolled in fast.
[Wow, Damon setting up furniture himself? Isn’t he always delegating everything?]
[He looks good doing it, though! Serena, you’re so lucky!]
[Looks like someone’s already the next Mrs. Damon.]
I scrolled through, my stomach turning at every message. Before Serena showed up, Damon used to do everything with me. He’d call me his partner, the one he trusted most. Now, it was clear that trust had shifted.
I didn’t bother reading the rest. I tossed my phone on the counter. None of it mattered anymore.
I went to my room to pack up my things. The apartment didn’t even feel like mine anymore—it hadn’t for a long time. While I was boxing up my belongings, I found a wooden box shoved to the back of my closet.
Inside were all the little gifts Damon had given me over the years: a silver bracelet, a necklace with the pack crest, handwritten notes about how much he cared. They used to mean everything to me, but now they just felt like weights holding me back.
I grabbed the box and headed outside. The clearing was quiet, bathed in the soft light of the full moon. It was the same place where our pack held celebrations and ceremonies, but tonight, it was just for me.
I set the box in the middle of the fire pit and lit a match. The flames caught quickly, swallowing the mementos one by one. The bracelet melted, the paper curled into ash, and with each piece that burned, I felt lighter.
This was my way of letting go.
The sound of footsteps made me glance over my shoulder. Damon was storming toward me, his eyes wide with disbelief.
“Elara, what the hell are you doing?!” he shouted.
I didn’t look at him, keeping my focus on the fire.
He came closer, his voice rising. “You’re burning everything? Are you insane? Those were our memories!”
I finally turned to face him, my voice calm. “Your memories, Damon. Not mine. This was all stuff you gave me to make yourself feel better. I’m done carrying it around.”
He stared at me, his frustration boiling over. “You’re seriously just throwing it all away? Like none of it ever mattered?”
I shrugged, keeping my tone even. “It mattered to me once, but not anymore. You made sure of that.”
For a moment, he just stood there, his chest heaving like he was about to explode. Then, without another word, he turned and walked away.
I stayed by the fire, watching it burn until there was nothing left but embers. As the flames died down, I felt something inside me shift. For the first time in years, I wasn’t holding on to the past.
I was finally free.
I dusted myself off, standing in the soft glow of the fire. The warmth on my face didn’t match the icy tone of my voice.
“It’s fine,” I said flatly. “I found a bunch of bugs crawling in the box—probably cockroaches—so I burned it.”
