The day I was supposed to have my mark ceremony with Ayan Peterson, Camille Wood, the Lycan Princess who had always adored him, fell from her horse and was gravely injured.
He tore off his ceremonial robe and sent a hurried mind link:
"The ceremony can wait. The Princess's safety comes first."
This wasn’t the first time he had chosen her over me.
But unlike before, I didn’t cry, didn’t make a scene, didn’t bend to his will.
My attendant, Shadow, asked me, "Miss Laura, will the ceremony still happen?"
I calmly finished my makeup, put on my gown, and then sent a letter to Ace Simpson, the Alpha of the Simpson Pack, who had always been at odds with Ayan.
"It will."
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When word of Ayan’s rejection reached the Ferguson Pack, I was in the middle of getting ready.
Perhaps because I had been abandoned too many times before, I didn’t feel much pain.
My father, Alpha Mitchell Ferguson, however, was furious.
He had been a high-ranking figure in the Lycan court for years, with countless connections.
It had been a long time since he had been this angry.
"Postponed? That’s what he calls it. Has he thought about what this will do to you?"
He took a deep breath, glancing at me.
It seemed he remembered all the times I had been stubbornly devoted to Ayan.
In the end, he just waved his hand.
"Fine. You’ve admired him for years, and you’re determined to mate with him. What else can we do but listen to him?"
Over the years, I had done many foolish things for Ayan.
He loved ancient scrolls, so I spent a fortune searching for rare texts and eagerly presented them to him.
But Camille loved them too.
When she asked for them, he gave them to her.
I cried secretly for two days after finding out.
The next time we met, he simply said, "The Princess is of royal blood. My loyalty is to her, nothing more."
And I was placated.
He was the epitome of honor and loyalty, always putting duty first.
So even though I was his fated mate, Camille came before me.
Last year, during a pack run, Camille claimed she was aiming for a deer but deliberately shot my arm.
Furious, I fought back, ignoring the pain.
By the time Ayan arrived, Camille was smirking at me.
"Who do you think he’ll choose?" she whispered. "You, or me?"
Ayan chose her.
Just like today.
Back then, I lay on the ground, watching as Ayan carried Camille onto his horse.
He looked down at me, sighed, and said, "Laura, you’ve gone too far this time."
Yes.
I shouldn’t have been so reckless.
But my greatest mistake was loving him.
