I watched as he tended to her injury, his hands careful, his touch reverent. A twisted ankle—that was all it took for him to drop everything and run to her side.
I remembered when I had been injured. A rogue attack had left me with a broken leg, and in my desperation, I had reached out to him through our mind link, hoping—stupidly—for some concern.
"A broken leg isn’t life or death," he had said. "You already escaped the rogue. Why bother me?"
That was when I knew. Ronan had never cared. Not for me. Not for Kieran. His wolf should have sensed his mate’s pain, should have felt my suffering—but he had remained indifferent.
And now, as I stood here watching him dote on my sister, the truth had never been clearer. I had never been his priority. I had never been his exception. He was forced to take me as his mate, but his heart had always belonged to Adeline.
If it had been her instead of me, she would have been Luna of the Obsidian Howl Pack by now. But it was me—me, who had given him the power to become Alpha. And still, I was nothing more than a placeholder. A name on paper. Nothing in his heart.