Then he strode out of the room, his long legs carrying him away with barely contained urgency.
He didn't look back once.
Another week passed. I packed my belongings, ready to be discharged from the Healer's Lodge.
I sent him three howl-calls. Every single one went unanswered, the connection simply fading into silence.
Meanwhile, Aurora's latest appearance at the Lunar Celebration had spread across every pack's territory—her graceful dance, her radiant smile, the way she'd stood beside Fenris's empty seat as if she already belonged there. The story had traveled through a hundred dens and counting.
In the memory-crystal projection, Aurora displayed her so-called intended mate's devotion without a trace of shame.
Rare moonstone jewelry from the Northern territories. Tribute ledgers showing wealth transfers. Scent-marked images from pilgrimages across distant pack lands. Intimate captures of him preparing her meals in the den kitchen, tending to her after hunts, kneeling to massage her feet after long ceremonies.
The howl-comments beneath the shared projection overflowed with envy.
This is what a dream courtship looks like.
Wealthy AND devoted? My wolf is howling with jealousy.