When I returned to the packhouse, the place was quiet. My mate still wasn’t back.
“As expected,” I muttered under my breath.
He must still be with Selene at the pack clinic, whether out of genuine concern or because she had found a way to keep him there, making sure he had no reason to come back to me.
I sighed, too exhausted to care anymore. I dropped onto the couch, intending to read for a while, but something caught my eye.
His phone.
It was lying on the coffee table, abandoned in his rush to take Selene to the clinic.
I scoffed. He never went anywhere without his phone, yet he had forgotten it that day. That only meant one thing—Selene was more important than whatever calls or messages he was expecting.
I leaned back, flipping open my book, but the constant buzzing of his phone was impossible to ignore.
Annoyed, I reached for it, my fingers hovering over the screen. Dozens of unread messages flooded in, one after another.
I wasn’t planning to check, just to silence the notifications—until I saw the sender.
It was his friends’ group chat, the same warriors from the training retreat.
My chest tightened as I unlocked the phone with ease. The password was still the same—our bond date.
“We have nothing to hide,” he had once told me with a lazy smile when I hesitated to check his phone before. I nodded back then, trusting him without question.
But my innocence ended that day. I wasn’t going to live under his lies anymore.
I scrolled through the chat, my eyes darting across the messages. And then, I saw it.
[Damn, bro, that retreat was insane. Can’t believe you almost didn’t come because of that clingy mate.]
[LMAO, just imagine him saying it was an alpha meeting when it was just a getaway with us.]
[You should get her an award. ‘Most Gullible Mate.’]
Even Selene, the one who had been in the clinic, had the nerve to comment: [Nah, ‘Most Pathetic Mate.’]
[I think you should be the one getting an award, maya. Truth or Dare was your idea, right?]
She responded again. [Well, we’re fated, aren’t we? What’s a little fun between future mates?]
[Careful, babe. She might challenge you.]
[Nah, bro, even if she finds out, she’ll just cry, maybe sulk for a few days, and then forgive him like she always does. He has trained her well.]
[Damn, that’s kinda sad.]
I was suffocating as they all laughed at me.
What hurt more was that they had always assumed I would stay with him, that I would cry and forgive him like I always had.
Not only were the messages in the group chat vile, but the photos they shared were just as infuriating.
Maya was glued to him in almost every single picture—laughing, leaning into him, resting her head on his shoulder as if she belonged there.
In one, she had a marker in hand, drawing playful scribbles on his face while he slept. His friends had taken the picture and flooded the chat with laughter, all of them cheering on Selene and his ‘real’ bond.
Meanwhile, I—the supposed true mate—was nothing more than a joke to them.
And him? He never once defended me.
Not long after, my own phone vibrated.
A message notification appeared on the screen. [Hey, are you still doing custom paintings? I’d love to commission one.]
I blinked.
Art had always been my passion. I had majored in fine art, and during my training, I had taken on freelance projects to broaden my experience.
But in the past few months, I was preparing for a leadership trial, so I had taken a break.
I hesitated, then checked my other messages. To my surprise, there were several more inquiries waiting for me.
A sudden resolve settled in my chest.
I would throw myself into work. If he had his distractions, I would have mine.
---
A full week passed, and I barely saw him at all.
Not because I was avoiding him, but because I was too busy to care. My days were filled with one project after another, my sketches and commissions becoming both my shield and my escape.
I didn’t wait for him to come home. I didn’t check if he ate or slept or if he was still spending all his time with Selene. It didn’t matter anymore.
But that night, as I returned from another long painting session, I found him waiting for me.
He was sitting in front of the packhouse entrance, his arms crossed as if he had been there for a while.
The moment I opened the door, his eyes locked onto mine.
“Selena, are you done avoiding me?" he sneered.
I barely spared him a glance as I stepped inside and kicked off my shoes. "I’m not avoiding you."
"Then why do you disappear in the morning and come home when I’m already asleep?"
"Because I’m busy," I replied casually, walking past him.
But before I could reach my room, he grabbed my wrist.
"Fine. If you’re still mad because I couldn’t take you a week ago, then just say it," he snapped. "But Maya was in the clinic, and both of her parents weren’t home. What was I supposed to do? Ignore her?"
I turned to him, my expression unreadable. "I don’t know. Everyone has their priorities. Mine were my commitments. If I had waited for you, my opportunities would have expired, right?" My voice was cold, detached.
His grip tightened. "You always have time to argue with me, but don’t you know I was exhausted too? I had to go to training and take care of Maya.
“The least you could do is welcome me home, make me a meal, or prepare something for me before I leave. Is that so hard?"
I stilled. It turned out he had claimed to me, not so we could be together, but so he could have someone waiting at home while he spent his days out with Maya.
I raised my voice for the first time. "Didn’t I tell you I’m busy too?"
He exhaled harshly and let go of my hand, clearly irritated. "Fine. No need to talk about what happened anymore. Just get ready tomorrow—we’re going to Maya's birthday party."
I snorted, crossing my arms. "After just getting out of the clinic, she’s throwing a birthday party? Amazing."
"It’s also her recovery party," he corrected as if that made it better. "You just hate maya, don’t you? You’re always like this whenever it comes to her."
I scoffed. "I don’t hate her—I just don’t like her. There’s a difference." I turned away. "Go by yourself. I have my own plans tomorrow."
But the irony of the situation slapped me in the face the next morning.
Because when I arrived at my client’s event, I realized my client was Maya.
The moon goddess has indeed a great sense of humor.
It turned out she had booked me through her assistant, which meant I had unknowingly accepted a job for her birthday party.
And so, there I was, brush in hand, forced to paint a live portrait as she draped herself over my mate in front of all their friends.
She fed him the first piece of cake, pressing a kiss to his cheek as she giggled sweetly.
But his friends sneered in my direction, whispering among themselves.
"Isn’t that her mate?"
"Wow, so professional. Watching your mate get kissed by another girl and still painting her."
“Yeah, I bet her kiss tastes bitter!”
“Go Maya…kiss him. He's yours!”
