"Are you sure about your decision, Astrid? This is your last chance. If you betray us again, I won’t help you anymore," Asher said seriously.
He was surprised by my decision since I had always refused his requests to leave the Shadow Pack.
"Yes, I've thought this through carefully," I replied, my voice firm. I was resolute in my decision, and I wasn’t going to back down. There was no reason for me to stay by Magnus’s side if the one he truly loved was Ingrid.
When I first joined their pack, I knew Alpha Magnus had feelings for Ingrid, but she had rejected him because she was engaged to another Alpha. I had only been his last resort.
I had truly believed Magnus loved me. I couldn’t forget how he fought for me, how he accepted me into their pack, despite the fact that I came from the Crimson Pack—the very pack that had once destroyed their lives.
"I don't care where you come from, Astrid. I love you for who you are."
Those were the sweetest words I had ever heard from him.
For a time, I had been the happiest person in the world, pouring all my love into Magnus. But deep down, something had always felt off—an unexplainable worry I had ignored. I hadn’t realized it at the time, but it was a warning. A sign that my heart was bound to be shattered.
I foolishly believed in a fairytale romance when, in reality, my mate was nothing more than a cheater.
"How could you not realize Magnus was cheating? Are you really that blind, Astrid?" Asher pressed.
"I trusted him," I cried. "I thought he was different."
Suddenly, a painful memory surfaced—the day Ingrid’s mate died. It had happened on my birthday. The worst part? Magnus had abandoned me that day to comfort her.
Every year, when my birthday came around, instead of celebrating with me, Magnus would visit Ingrid and her late husband's grave.
And I had been so naïve—so understanding, even when I was neglected.
It's true what they say. Kindness only leads to being taken advantage of.
"You know we can’t trust anyone, Astrid," Asher reminded me. "Your mother trusted them, and look what happened to her. She’s dead. You’re lucky to be alive—so don’t waste your life on that idiot."
My mother had once been involved with the Shadow Pack’s previous Alpha. She loved him. But my grandfather, Harold, dragged her back and killed her for having an affair with his mortal enemy.
After our conversation, I hung up the phone and continued packing my things.
I was caught off guard when the door suddenly opened, and Magnus walked in.
"Darling, we need to leave soon. Some wolves went missing during the snowstorm, and we had to find them," he said.
"Sure, no problem," I replied emotionlessly.
Before leaving, he leaned in and kissed my forehead. "When I get back, I promise I’ll take you out on a date. I want to spend some time with you."
Instead of feeling happy, I remained unmoved. The anger in my heart burned stronger than ever.
"Me too," I murmured, knowing deep down that there was no longer any time left for us.
That evening, I was ready to leave, but Asher called with bad news.
"I can’t pick you up yet. There are patrols everywhere, hunting for intruders. If I try to enter the town now, I’ll be caught."
I clenched my jaw in frustration. I had no choice but to stay in this miserable house for another night.
Days passed, and I endured Magnus and Ingrid’s presence, even though every moment around them felt unbearable.
Currently, Ingrid was staying in our home—our home—because hers had burned down. Asher had been the one to set it ablaze, and I didn’t blame him.
Tonight, we all sat at the same table for dinner. I watched in silence as Magnus served food onto Ingrid’s plate. She had a burn on her hand from the fire, and he was tending to her like she was the most fragile thing in the world.
Jealousy clawed at my insides. I was his wife, yet he treated me like a stranger.
"You’re so sweet, Magnus," I said sarcastically. "Taking such good care of her."
Neither of them seemed to notice my bitterness.
"Of course, she’s my f-friend," Magnus stuttered, avoiding my gaze.
"You know, Astrid, I'm very thankful to Magnus," Ingrid chimed in, smiling smugly. "He’s saved my life so many times."
I bit my lip, swallowing the rage rising in my throat.
"Really?" I said sweetly. "Aww, I’m so relieved you didn’t die."
As I cut into my steak, I imagined I was slicing them both apart instead.
That night, I went to bed without a word. Magnus lay beside me, but I turned my back to him, refusing to face him.
"Darling, why aren’t you facing me?" he murmured, but I stayed silent, pretending to be asleep.
I woke up in the middle of the night, my throat dry. I got out of bed and made my way to the kitchen for a drink.
As I walked down the hall, I heard something—soft noises coming from the guest room.
I stopped, my body was still going.
The sounds became clearer.
Moans.
A deep sense of dread settled over me as I stepped closer.
Slowly, I pushed the door open.
And then I saw them.
Magnus was on top of Ingrid, his body moving against hers.
I stumbled back, my breath catching in my throat.
The sight of my husband, buried between another woman’s legs, tore through me like a dagger to the chest.
A pain unlike anything I had ever felt. A pain I knew would never heal.
I turned and walked away before I could torture myself any further.
I returned to my room, but I didn’t cry.
I refused to cry. I refused to let Magnus have any more of my tears.
Instead, I picked up a pen and paper.
If Magnus wanted Ingrid, he could have her.
But not without a final farewell.
And so, I wrote a letter—one last goodbye to the man who had broken me.
