After abandoning me for his lover, my mate regretted

I stood outside the private lounge in Argentum Town, clutching a carefully wrapped gift, my heart pounding like a drum in my chest. Five years. Five years of pouring my soul into helping Charlotte Kingsley heal, and tonight was supposed to be a celebration of her recovery. The she-wolf who'd been paralyzed for so long was finally back on her feet, and I'd been there every step of the way. I was about to push open the door when I heard her voice, soft but clear, mingling with the chatter of her pack of she-wolves inside. "Ethan's been an absolute angel, Charlotte," one of them noted, her voice warm yet deliberate. "Five years of giving massages, helping with rehab, pulling all-nighters just to keep you from falling apart. Without him, you'd still be stuck in that chair." "Absolutely," another added. "The wolf barely slept, always on edge in case you had a breakdown. That kind of devotion? You owe him for life." My grip on the gift tightened, a soft warmth spreading through my chest. "He's a good wolf," Charlotte said, her voice low and steady, like a calm river. I froze, my hand hovering over the door. Then came the question that stopped my heart. "So, when are you gonna form a sacred bond with him?" I held my breath. After what felt like forever, Charlotte's voice broke the quiet. "I see him as a brother." "He's stood by you for five years, Charlotte, and all you can call him is a brother? Don't tell me you're still hung up on that Sebastian Wexler. That coward ran off the second you got hurt-didn't even bother with a text. Now that you're up and about again, he's slinking back, and you're actually considering him?" Charlotte didn't say a word. Standing there, outside the door, it felt like someone had reached into my chest and squeezed my heart until it stopped. Five years-every sleepless night, every moment I held her together when she was falling apart-and she still carried a torch for the wolf who'd left her to rot. Five years ago, Charlotte was untouchable. A top-tier she-wolf-heading her class at an exclusive school, heir to the Kingsley pack's vast empire, and a pro when it comes to rock climbing and martial arts. Her face? Like something carved by the moon itself, all sharp angles and fierce beauty. Me? I was just Ethan Carter, a scrappy pup the Kingsleys had pulled out of poverty with a scholarship. I first saw her at a school awards ceremony. She stood at that podium, cool and untouchable as a mountain pine, while I sat in the back row, clutching my acceptance notice, too nervous to clap too loud. Back then, Sebastian was the wolf at her side-rich, handsome, the pack's golden pup. Everyone said they were a fairy tale come to life, a destined pair. Then the accident happened. A motorcycle collision shattered her spine, and the healers said she might never walk again. Sebastian? He didn't even step into her hospital room. Sent a text to break their bond and vanished like a ghost. The Kingsley pack's shining star fell hard, and Charlotte spiraled-angry, dark, even tried to end it all once. Her parents were drowning in grief, helpless. I was the one who stepped up. I crouched by her wheelchair, looked her in the eyes, and said, "Charlotte, everything will be all right. I'm right here with you." For Five years, I learned every massage technique, survived on two hours of sleep, always ready in case she needed me in the middle of the night. When she lost it and smashed a vase against her legs, I threw myself in front of her, taking the hit. My ribs ached for weeks, but I didn't care. I was there, day after day, year after year Becoming the one wolf she could count on.