My Mate: No Regret, No Return

Didn’t ask why they were in the den meant for us both. Didn’t ask why Emma was touching what wasn’t hers. Didn’t remind him how we’d bled our fingertips sewing our family sigils into that Wedding dress’s lining by moonlight.

None of it mattered anymore.

Not when I only had two days left.

The pain spreads through my heart.

Two more days. Then I’d be gone.

Back to the Ironclaw Mountains. Back to my birth pack.

I’d already begun pulling away—shifting clothes, preparing supplies, memorizing border routes.

Every moment now was a step away from him.

Being with Logan had once been all I wanted. Back in university, he made me feel chosen—like the moon had whispered my name into his soul.

But since Emma reappeared, I’d felt that thread fray.

There was always a new excuse. A reason not to show up. A message left unanswered.

I remembered that pack celebration a few moons ago. I’d only had a few sips of bloodroot wine before it hit me. On my way back from the washroom, I heard her voice rise above the chatter:

“Logan, I swear… you’re the only mate I’ll ever want in this life.”

Silence.

Everyone knew Logan and I are already officially dating, soul-bound. Not formally sealed, but witnessed by the council and the spirits.

I stood there, frozen.

Waiting for him to say something. To draw the line.

But all he said was, “Let me get her some ginger brew. She’ll have a headache later.”

That was the moment I felt it:

The shift.

So I forced my voice flat.

“It’s fine. If the Wedding dress’s ruined, toss it. Doesn’t matter anymore.”

He paused, taken aback.

I felt the thread between us thin further—already faint, like a dying ember of the bond.

“Anything else?” I asked, steady now.

“…No,” he said.

Just as I moved to hang up, I heard her again.

“Logan, how about these shirts? Should I fold them for you?”

End call.

I imagined his face harden.

“Don’t touch my things,” I pictured him snapping, voice clipped. “I’ll take them myself. I’m just settling you in. I’ll be back.”

Emma’s tearful gasp, no doubt weaponized. “You’re leaving me? You said you wouldn’t abandon me… I only have you…”

His voice, softening, as it always did for her. “I won’t abandon you. But Emma… you need to learn to stand on your own. If it weren’t for your injury, Rae and I would’ve already completed the bond.”

But I wasn’t there to hear it.

And it didn’t matter.

I was already halfway gone.

He came later that night.

I was still folding the last of my travel cloaks, stuffing flint, herbs, and moon-stamped seals into a satchel when the door opened.

Logan stood there, his eyes scanning the room—half-empty, unspoken.

“Rae…”

I didn’t stop packing.

He stepped closer. “I came back to say this properly. I’m sorry… for how I’ve been. For how things have happened.”

I glanced at him, saying nothing.

His voice gentled. “About the wedding… There’s no rush now. The new place still isn’t ready anyway—some furniture hasn’t arrived. I talked to the elders, and we’ve postponed the ceremony.”

I folded the flap of my satchel closed.

He hesitated, then added, “Also… Emma’s leaving soon. Her treatment overseas… I promised to go with her. Just to get her settled. She’s never had anyone in her corner—no one’s ever stood up for her. I hope you can understand…Her condition is critical, and right now, I’m all she has to lean on.”

He looked at me then, like it was a reasonable thing to say. Like it shouldn’t crush me.

“I hope you understand. She needs someone. I’ll come back after a few weeks. We’ll figure things out.”

It was that moment.

That moment the last thread snapped.

I straightened, met his gaze, and smiled—cool, distant.

“You should go, then.”

He flinched, slightly. “Rae…”

“I understand perfectly,” I said. “You made your choice. And I’ve made mine.”

His brows furrowed. “Are you… going somewhere?”

He flinched, just a little. “Rae… don’t be mad, okay? Once I’m back, we’ll do the bonding ceremony, just like you wanted. I promise.”

“I’m not mad. Go take care of Emma,” I said with a small smile, but my eyes stayed fixed on his face, memorizing him one last time. In my heart, I whispered, If you leave now, don’t come back. I won’t be waiting.

Maybe he sensed something was off, because he reached out, trying to comfort me. “Rae, you really are the most understanding mate in the world. I’m so lucky to have you.”

“It’s getting late,” I said, swallowing the lump in my throat. “Go pack your things. Don’t you have a flight in the morning?”

I was hoping—praying—he’d say he wasn’t going. That he’d stay, that he’d choose me.

But instead, he just pulled me into a hug, then turned and walked away.

I stood there until his figure disappeared around the corner. Then, slowly, I wiped the tears from my face, grabbed my suitcase, and pulled out my phone.

I threw away the SIM card. Logged out of my werewolf identity with the Eastside Moonclaws.

Logan, let’s never meet again.