The night of the crash had left scars deeper than I realized—scars that time had refused to heal. Erwin’s brother had been with him that evening when it all began. The pack had just settled into the quiet of the night when the voice note arrived.
“Help,” it said, trembling with urgency. “Mina’s in danger.”
The sound of my voice—only it wasn’t me—had sent Erwin and his brother into a frenzy. They rushed out, their wolf instincts fully engaged, hurtling through the winding forest roads to reach her.
But the roads were treacherous, and tragedy waited for them in the dark. Their car veered off the edge of the ravine, tumbling into a crumpled heap of metal and shattered dreams.
When Erwin woke up in the pack’s infirmary, battered but alive, his first words were for her.
“Is Mina okay?”
I had been there, holding his hand, tears streaking down my face. Relief coursed through me that he had survived, though his brother hadn’t been so lucky. My heart ached at the thought of losing Erwin too.
But his second sentence pierced me like a dagger.
“Elena,” he rasped, his voice hoarse but steady, “your reckless games killed my brother. Was it worth it? Are you happy now?”
His words were ice, freezing me in place.
“I didn’t send that message,” I had said then, and I had repeated it countless times since. My protests, my explanations, all fell on deaf ears.
To Erwin, the lie Mina told was the only truth he could see. She was innocent in his eyes—the grieving widow, incapable of such malice. But I knew the truth. I had handed her my phone that day, thinking nothing of it. She had smiled at me, borrowing it under the guise of texting her mate.
That smile had been a knife hidden in plain sight.
The message she crafted, that voice note, had been her weapon. And Erwin had been her pawn, a wolf so blinded by duty and grief that he couldn’t see the web she’d spun.
The memory still haunted me, but tonight, Erwin’s actions brought it all rushing back.
The door creaked open, and there he was, standing in the dim light of our shared room. The scent of alcohol clung to him, sharp and sour. His usually sharp golden eyes were hazy, but something dark lingered in them.
“Elena,” he said, his voice unusually soft, “you’re awake.”
I didn’t respond. The bandages around my hand from earlier were still fresh, the sting of the cut a sharp reminder of the events that had unfolded.
He crossed the room and knelt before me, taking my uninjured hand in his. His warmth seeped into my skin, but it felt foreign now.
“I need to ask you something,” he said quietly, his fingers brushing over my knuckles.
I remained silent, unsure if I could bear what he was about to say.
“Mina is struggling,” he murmured, as if the words physically pained him. “She’s hurting. She’s alone. And I need you to be better. To rise above this.”
“Rise above what, Erwin?” I snapped, my voice sharper than I intended. “Rise above her lies? Above the way she manipulates you? Or the way she uses her grief to keep you tied to her?”
His jaw tightened, his golden eyes narrowing. “You don’t understand, Elena. She’s not manipulating anyone. She’s lost her mate—my brother. And I promised him I’d take care of her.”
I laughed bitterly, the sound hollow and cold. “Taking care of her doesn’t mean abandoning me every time she calls. It doesn’t mean ignoring me when I’m bleeding, Erwin. What do I have to do to make you see that she’s tearing us apart?”
He stood then, his full height towering over me. His presence was commanding, but I refused to shrink beneath it.
“I have responsibilities,” he said firmly, his voice like a growl. “The pack is watching, Elena. They need to see that I honor my promises. My brother’s death…” His voice cracked, and he paused to collect himself. “It will not be in vain.”
“Your brother’s death wasn’t my fault,” I said, my voice trembling. “It wasn’t. And deep down, you know it wasn’t. You’re just too stubborn to admit it.”
His eyes flashed with anger. “You don’t get it. You’ve never gotten it. I’m doing what I have to do.”
“No, Erwin,” I said, rising to my feet to meet his gaze. “You’re doing what she wants you to do. You’re letting her control you, and you’re using your brother’s memory as an excuse. If you can’t see that, then maybe you never truly saw me at all.”
He opened his mouth to respond, but before he could, the pack link buzzed with a message.
“Erwin,” Mina’s voice filled our minds, laced with fake urgency, “Kitty’s sick again. She’s shaking, and I don’t know what to do.”
His expression softened instantly, and without a word, he turned and grabbed his jacket.
“Don’t,” I said, my voice breaking. “Don’t walk out that door. Not this time.”
He paused, his back to me, but he didn’t turn around.
“I have to,” he said simply, and then he was gone.
The silence he left behind was deafening.
I sat on the edge of the bed, the pain in my hand now a dull throb compared to the ache in my chest. The phone buzzed on the nightstand, and I picked it up reluctantly.
A photo from Mina.
Erwin was in her cabin, holding her cat, Kitty, his back turned to her. The warm glow of the room made the scene look almost peaceful, almost intimate. His broad shoulders were framed by the loose vest he had thrown on, and the shorts hung low on his hips.
Then came the message that made me feel sick to my stomach:
[Elena, do you see now? He’s mine. He’ll always be mine. No matter what, one word from me will always bring him to my side. It’s a shame you don’t know what it feels like to hold a man like that. Maybe I’ll show you someday.]
The bile rose in my throat, and I stumbled to the trash can, retching violently.
When the nausea passed, I gripped the phone tightly, my vision blurred by tears of anger and humiliation. Without thinking, I opened the pack link and shouted, my voice trembling with rage.
“You bitch!”
Mina’s laugh echoed in my mind, mocking and triumphant.
I sank to the floor, clutching my knees to my chest. Erwin had made his choice, and it wasn’t me.
But I wouldn’t let her win. Not completely.
Tomorrow was the mating ceremony, the day I had once dreamed of. Now, it felt like a cruel joke.
Still, I would stand before the pack, head held high, and let them see me for who I truly was. A she-wolf stronger than the lies, the betrayal, and the mate who had turned his back on her.
Mina wanted to break me. But I wasn’t broken yet.
The metallic scent of my blood lingered in the air as I finished bandaging my hand, the wound a sharp reminder of how far things had spiraled. Erwin’s betrayal was one thing, but the endless provocations from Mina? That was another.
For three years, she’d pushed me, needled me, and tested every boundary I had. And Erwin? He knew. He always knew.
But every time, he dismissed it with the same excuses. “Mina’s been through so much,” he’d say, his golden eyes flashing with the hint of his wolf beneath. “You have to understand.”
Understand. Tolerate. Forgive. Those words had become a mantra in our relationship.
And I’d complied. Every. Single. Time.
But wolves are creatures of instinct, and mine had been howling louder with every insult, every slight. My patience wasn’t just fraying—it was snapping.
This time, there would be no forgiveness.
I opened my laptop and stared at the email that had been haunting me for weeks. An offer to join a pack in Texas as their history teacher. It was an opportunity for freedom—a fresh start far from the suffocating presence of Erwin and Mina.
I clicked "Reply" and typed two words: I’m in.
In ten days, I’d be gone.
