Lucian had already promised our mating before the pack. Once we were bonded, there would be ceremonies, shared duties, and perhaps pups of our own. I had imagined that future so often that I had shaped my life around it without realizing how much I was giving away.
The High Steward looked up when I entered.
“Have you truly decided against Drelantia?” she asked. “This is the last time I will offer it.”
I stood in silence.
Sunlight slanted through the tall windows, falling across sealed records and rolled parchments. On her desk lay the transfer papers, already prepared.
Two years.
Only two years.
A short time in a wolf’s life.
Yet long enough to change everything.
Lucian had never wanted me to leave. He said mates should not live apart. He said distance weakened bonds. Back then, I thought his words were tender.
Now I saw them clearly.
He wanted me near—only when it suited him.
I suddenly understood how much I had already given up.
I refused distant posts.
I turned down promotions.
I changed my duties to return home early and prepare his meals myself.
I had bent my entire life around him.
And in the end, none of it mattered.
The realization came without tears.
Only stillness.
“I’ll go,” I said.