Moonlight spilled in, tension thick, pine scent lingering in our small cabin.
Ethan leaned back against the armrest of the worn couch, his amber eyes glinting in the dim light. His voice, calm and low, rumbled like distant thunder.
“Well, losing this place might not be the worst thing,” he said, his gaze lingering on me.
“When we’re bonded, we can build something better—maybe even a bigger den. What do you think?”
He was watching me closely, his wolf-like instincts keen to pick up on my slightest reaction. I knew he was trying to gauge my feelings, but I kept my face blank, pretending to be distracted by the flicker of the dying fire.
Normally, I would’ve been thrilled. Talk of a shared future would’ve sent my heart racing. But tonight, my heart was as cold as the frosty air seeping through the cracks of the cabin walls.
He must have sensed it. His easy confidence faltered, but he didn’t press me. Ethan rarely pushed when it came to emotions—he always seemed to think they’d just work themselves out.
When he disappeared into the bathroom to shower, the silence grew oppressive. It was broken by the insistent buzzing of his phone on the coffee table. The sound grated on my nerves until I gave in and picked it up. The screen lit up with a string of messages.
Vanessa had sent him a dozen photos—pictures of her in wedding dresses. Ethereal white gowns, some traditional, some modern, all framed by her radiant smile.
My chest tightened as an ache spread through me.
So, this was it. His tenderness wasn’t for me.
My thoughts drifted back to the day I’d asked him to go shopping for mating ceremony garb. He’d brushed me off with a dismissive wave, claiming it didn’t matter.
“Just pick something. They all look the same,” he’d said.
That impatience was real. The warmth in Vanessa’s photos was real, too.
The bathroom door opened with a sharp creak, and steam rolled into the room like a ghostly mist. Ethan’s hair dripped water onto his broad shoulders as he stalked toward me, his eyes darkening when he saw the phone in my hand.
“What the hell are you doing?” His growl was low and menacing, more wolf than man.
Before I could answer, he snatched the phone from me with a rough tug, causing me to stumble back onto the couch. His grip was so strong it left a scratch on my hand.
“Do you not understand the concept of privacy?” His tone was icy, but his eyes betrayed a flicker of guilt.
I glanced down at the shallow cut on my palm, crimson droplets forming against pale skin.
Even without seeing more, I already knew the story behind those photos. I’d pieced it together in countless sleepless nights, scrolling through their exchanges, drowning in his betrayals.
Seven years together, and I’d become little more than background noise in his life.
“Sorry,” I muttered, my voice soft as I pulled my hand close. “I won’t touch your phone again.”
His posture stiffened, surprise flickering across his face.
“The photos—” he started, his voice unsteady. “Vanessa said trying on wedding dresses was exhausting, so I… I just helped her out. That’s all. You know her brother died… I was just doing this for him. Don’t get the wrong idea.”
I let his excuses wash over me, empty and hollow.
Vanessa’s brother, Kurt, had been Ethan’s closest friend, his packmate. When Kurt had died in a car accident, Ethan had vowed to look after his sister. And he had—far beyond what anyone would expect.
As his excuses continued to tumble out, I interrupted him, my voice steady and soft.
“Don’t worry. I’m not getting the wrong idea.” I met his gaze, unflinching. “Honestly, if you and Vanessa bonded, it’d make sense. She’d be a good mate for you.”
The slap came faster than I could blink. His hand struck my cheek, the sting sharp and shocking.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” he snarled, his eyes glowing faintly in the dark, the wolf inside him bubbling to the surface. “Vanessa only sees me as a brother. Do you think she’s as cheap as you?”
The fire burning on my cheek was nothing compared to the searing pain in my chest.
But even as tears welled up, I saw something flicker in his eyes—panic, regret.
“I didn’t mean that,” he said, his tone softening. “I’m sorry.”
I opened my mouth, the words on the tip of my tongue. Ethan, I’m leaving.
But before I could speak, his phone rang again. He answered quickly, and a familiar voice spilled into the silence.
“Ethan! I had a nightmare… I dreamed about my brother…” Vanessa’s voice trembled, fragile and needy. “I’m so scared…”
And just like that, I faded into the background again.
