Chapter 2

Adam probably didn't remember this, but he was the one who came to me first.

Our packs arranged the meeting. My father was Alpha of the Ironwood Pack. Adam was the heir to Blackstone, the pack whose territory bordered ours to the north. The alliance made sense to everyone.

We met at a neutral gathering and talked for hours. He was smart and gentle, the kind of heir other Alphas warned their daughters about.

I fell for him the way wolves would fall for their fated mates, like I had no choice in the matter.

He texted me every morning, sent flowers for no reason, and showed up at my door with tea whenever my scent told him I was having a bad day.

I thought I was the luckiest woman in the territory.

Then Chloe came back. She'd grown up in the Blackstone Pack and known Adam since they were pups. Later, she'd been away for years, and no one really said where.

The moment she stepped foot back in the Blackstone Pack House, Adam became someone I didn't recognize.

The morning messages stopped. The flowers stopped. He stopped answering my calls.

He was too busy driving Chloe to the mountains to watch the sunrise. He was too busy taking her to concerts.

I spent my birthday alone at a diner outside Ironwood territory. He forgot I existed because Chloe needed help with a litter of pups.

I sat there for hours, watching the door, waiting for him to remember. He never did.

And that was the last time he ever sent me flowers.

It was because Chloe was allergic.

"She'll be sad if she finds out," he said when I asked why he stopped. "I don't want her to feel left out."

We fought about it for months.

Every time, he gave me the same answer.

He said, like I was being unreasonable, "I treat Chloe like a sister. What's your problem, being jealous like that?

"If I were hiding something, would I be this honest about it?"

He was honest. That was the worst part. He never lied about where he was or who he was with. He just kept choosing her, over and over again, every single time. And I kept letting him.

I saw it clearly now.

The way love showed itself wasn't complicated. When someone was loved, they knew. When they weren't, they knew that, too.

Adam never loved me.

And I, the fool who thought she'd found her mate for life, was nothing but a joke.

*****

Chloe pouted, acting like she was about to apologize.

"Zoe, I swear I didn't mean to embarrass you. If it makes you feel better, I'll chop my hair off, too, to show I'm sorry," she told me.

Her eyes were rimmed with red, and she put on her most earnest face.

I laughed, but there was nothing warm about it.

"Sure. Go for it," I replied.

Chloe's expression froze. Then she quickly recovered.

She said, "As long as you don't start fighting with Adam because of me and mess things up between you two, I'll do anything you want."

With tears in her eyes, she looked like she might break any second.

But the scissors in her hand hovered there. She never actually cut a single strand.

Adam's face twisted with sympathy, aimed entirely at her.

He shot me a glare like I was his worst enemy.

He snapped, "Zoe, if you've got a problem, take it out on me!

"Chloe's like a sister to me, and we grew up together. Do you really have to make things hard for her?"

I paused for a moment. A dull ache spread through my chest.

Of course, Chloe was always the one he'd side with. Always his priority.

I forced a bitter smile, stood up, and walked toward the door.

Adam's angry voice followed me out. "It's just some stupid hair—big deal!

"If you wanna storm out, then do it. Nobody's gonna baby you and your drama."

He didn't even remember anymore.

Before Adam and I got together, I always kept my hair short and neat.

Then he said, offhandedly, "I want to see you at the mating ceremony with long, flowing hair."

So I grew it out. I took care of it, pampered it, and spent a long time waiting for it to be perfect. All so I could be the mate he wanted.

And now, it was gone.

Laughter spilled through the closed door behind me, bright and careless.

I should have been crying.

The old me would have been shaking, suffocating, tearing myself apart over his coldness.

But right now, I felt nothing.

I reached up to wipe my face, and my hand came away dry. No tears. No ache.

Finally, I'd broken free from the mess I'd been wrapping myself in.

I pulled out my phone, ready to call a ride and go home.

That was when I saw the message from my father.

Once again, he was asking me to join the Royal Academy to train as a certified warrior.

I'd gotten the invitation last year.

But I turned it down.

I had to spend three years of training, three years away from Adam. Back then, the thought of being apart from him felt unbearable.

When my father found out why I said no, he was so frustrated that I thought he might shift right there in the living room.

"Men aren't moved when you give up your dreams for them," he said. "They just think you're someone they can take for granted. Zoe, you're going to regret this. Mark my words."

I didn't listen. I believed in Adam.

I wanted the quiet, peaceful life, the one where we were happy together.

But it turned out my father was right.

So this time, I wasn't making the same mistake.

When I called Father back and told him I agreed to join the Royal Academy, he didn't waste a second.

He sent me the paperwork, walked me through the deadlines, and made sure I had everything I needed.

"The training program at the Royal Academy starts in two weeks," he said over the phone. "Can you get everything ready in time?"

I smiled. "I'll be ready."

Two weeks was plenty of time to call off a mating ceremony.