The Betrayed Wolf’s Vow

The first time—

On the very day Sylvia returned, I had asked him to accompany me for the pup’s bloodline check.

He told me, “Something came up. You go first. I’ll meet you there later.”

But I waited until the moon rose high, and still, he never came.

Later, on Fox News, I saw him—Chisel—holding a bouquet of blazing roses at the airport, his usually frozen expression softened into a smile.

A smile I remembered once belonging to me.

Back then, his smile was always paired with a reprimand:

“You are my Luna now. Why would you wear such revealing clothes for other wolves to see? I’ll get jealous.”

And I had foolishly reveled in that jealousy, mistaking it for love.

But Sylvia—

She didn’t need to do anything. Simply by standing there, she was given everything.

The second time—

On the third day of Sylvia’s return, my was in heat.

Because of the pup, I couldn’t take suppressants. I endured the night alone, clutching his shirt, clinging to the faint trace of his scent to survive until dawn.

The next morning, Facebook showed me the truth—Chisel and Sylvia at a candlelit dinner, with a caption beneath:

“The most beautiful girl deserves the perfect evening.”

I swallowed the bitterness burning in my throat, my voice steady in a way that surprised even myself.

“Alright.”

He blinked, as if he hadn’t expected me to agree so easily.

But no matter what he thought, he would never guess—

I was already planning to leave him.

If I was leaving anyway, nothing else mattered anymore.

All the disappointments, the buried grievances, rose up like scars finally torn open.

I remembered calling him during that heat, whispering into the phone, my voice trembling. And his answer had cut me deeper than claws:

“Be good, Leah. I’m exhausted. You make things harder when you cling like this. But I can’t abandon my subordinates for you. I am Alpha.”

So, I had forced myself to endure, to understand, to wait until the following afternoon.

When I finally felt his scent brushing against mine… it was tainted.

Carrying Sylvia’s fragrance.

The third time—

A stormy night, I was ambushed by Rogues. Shaking, bleeding, I called him.

“Leah, I can’t always be there by your side. Don’t throw tantrums just to make me come running. Using lies like this—it’s wrong.”

It wasn’t until the enforcement team confirmed my injuries that he realized the truth.

But instead of remorse, his words cut me again:

“If you had done your Luna’s duties properly, how could I doubt you?”

By then, I had lost so much blood that I couldn’t even hold my wolf form. I thought I would die.

And still, I whispered through the pain:

“Chisel, if I live through this, I’ll give you one last chance. My love has limits.”

Maybe pity moved him in that moment. His tone softened, almost gentle:

“Alright. Next time, I won’t ignore you and the pup.”

I believed him.

I believed him until now.

But he never treasured that final chance.

“Leah, Sylvia still hasn’t eaten. If you won’t fetch something for her, I’ll take her myself. You should go home first.”

His voice snapped me out of my thoughts, casual, without an ounce of guilt.

“Alright.” My reply was hollow, mechanical.

“What are you holding?” His tone sharpened suddenly, suspicion creeping in.

My fingers clenched tighter around the hospital slip in my pocket.

“Nothing.”

Ruby scoffed inside me, her growl dripping with scorn. “If he hadn’t severed the mate bond, he’d already know.”

I shoved the papers deeper into my pocket, my steps never faltering.

“You… you have another check-up soon, don’t you?”

His voice wavered, tinged with panic.

“When I’m done taking care of Sylvia, I’ll come with you. I’ll take you to the hospital.”