ROWAN'S POV
The anniversary card sits on my desk, mocking me.
I've been staring at it for ten minutes, trying to remember why I bought it. The front shows two wolves under a full moon with the words "To My Mate" in silver letters. Inside, there's a blank space where I'm supposed to write something meaningful.
I haven't written a single word.
"Just throw it away," I mutter, shoving it into my desk drawer. Aria won't even notice if I forget. She never complains. That's the problem with Omegas—they accept everything. No fight. No fire. Just quiet disappointment that makes my wolf whine in ways I don't want to think about.
My wolf has been restless all day, pacing in my mind like something's wrong. I ignore him. He's been like this for years, ever since I mated Aria. He doesn't understand what I do—that sometimes duty matters more than what the Moon Goddess decides.
The pack needed a strong Luna. Instead, I got a defective Omega who can barely shift.
My phone buzzes. A text from Celeste: Still working, Alpha? Or are you finally ready to stop pretending?
My chest tightens. I shouldn't meet her tonight. It's my anniversary. Six years ago, I stood under the moon and promised to honor my mate. I should go home. I should at least try to make Aria feel valued.
But then I remember this morning. Aria brought me coffee while I worked, setting it down without a word. She didn't ask how I slept. Didn't demand attention. Just gave me that patient, understanding smile that makes me feel like a monster.
I hate that smile. I hate how it makes me feel guilty for wanting more than quiet acceptance.
Celeste never smiles like that. Celeste demands. Challenges. Makes me work for every moment of her attention. She's fire where Aria is water, and Moon help me, I've been drowning for six years.
I text back: Old hunting cabin. Twenty minutes.
My wolf snarls in protest. I shove him down deep where I don't have to listen.
The drive to the cabin takes fifteen minutes. I'm five minutes early, which means I have time to think. Time to remember that Aria is probably waiting at home with dinner. She always cooks on our anniversary. Always tries to make the day special even though I've never once remembered it on my own.
"She deserves better," I say out loud.
My reflection in the rearview mirror stares back at me. Gray eyes. Hard jaw. The face of an Alpha who always does what's right for the pack, even when it hurts.
That's what I tell myself, anyway.
The truth is uglier. The truth is that I married Aria out of obligation because the mate bond demanded it, and I've resented her every day since. Not because she's cruel or stupid or weak in the ways that matter. But because she's too good. Too patient. Too willing to accept my coldness without fighting back.
She makes it too easy to treat her badly.
Celeste's car pulls up, and guilt evaporates like morning fog. She steps out wearing something red and tight, her copper hair catching the moonlight. Everything about her screams confidence. Power. Choice.
"You came," she purrs, walking toward me with a smile that promises everything Aria's patient acceptance doesn't.
"I shouldn't have." But I'm already reaching for her.
"Yet here you are." She presses against me, and my wolf finally goes quiet. "Still pretending you want that broken Omega when you could have me?"
"Don't call her broken." The defense comes automatically, even though I've thought the same thing a thousand times.
"Why not? It's true." Celeste's fingers trace my jaw. "You've wasted six years on a mate who can't even shift properly. The pack whispers about it. Your allies pity you. And for what? Duty?"
"The mate bond—"
"Is a suggestion, not a command." She kisses my neck, and my body responds in ways it never has with Aria. "You're an Alpha, Rowan. You choose your own path. So choose."
I should push her away. I should go home to my wife.
But I don't.
We barely make it inside the cabin before I have her against the wall. My wolf should be screaming—this is wrong, this betrays the bond, this will hurt Aria. But he's silent. He's been silent for months now, like even he's given up pretending.
"Finally," Celeste gasps as I take her. "Finally, you're letting yourself have what you really want."
What I really want. The words echo in my head as pleasure builds. Is this what I want? Or is it just easier than dealing with the guilt of having a mate I can't love?
I'm too far gone to care.
Afterward, we end up at the cabin's table. I tell myself this is the last time. That tomorrow I'll recommit to Aria. That I'll try harder to feel something other than obligation.
But I've told myself that lie a hundred times before.
"Finn asked about his 'other mommy' yesterday," Celeste says casually, running her fingers through her hair. "He's starting to figure it out."
My blood goes cold. "What did you tell him?"
"The truth." She smiles. "That Aria is temporary. That once he's old enough, she'll leave and we'll be a real family. That's what you want, isn't it?"
"I never said—"
"You didn't have to." She kisses my cheek. "Actions speak louder than words, Alpha. You're here with me on your anniversary. That says everything."
She's right. I know she's right. But something about hearing it out loud makes my wolf stir again, uneasy.
"Aria doesn't deserve this," I say quietly.
"Then reject her." Celeste says it like it's simple. "Make it official. Let her go find some other pack to burden. You'll be free, she'll be free, and we can finally stop sneaking around."
"The pack needs a Luna—"
"The pack needs a strong Luna. I can be that." She stands, adjusting her dress. "Think about it, Rowan. How much longer are you going to keep punishing yourself—and her—by staying in a bond neither of you wants?"
She leaves me alone in the cabin with thoughts I don't want to examine.
But she's wrong about one thing. Aria wants this bond. She's wanted it desperately for six years, even though I've given her nothing but coldness in return. That patient, understanding smile haunts me because I know what it costs her.
And I keep hurting her anyway.
My phone buzzes. A text from Marcus: Where are you? Aria was looking for you. It's your anniversary, you bastard.
Guilt crashes over me. I stand, gathering my clothes, already planning the lie I'll tell. Traffic. Emergency pack business. Anything but the truth.
But then I smell it.
Aria's scent. Faint, but unmistakable.
My head snaps toward the cabin window, and my heart stops.
She's standing in the clearing, her face pale in the moonlight. Her amber eyes are wide with shock. With betrayal. With the kind of pain that can't be fixed.
She saw everything.
"No." The word comes out strangled. "Aria, wait—"
But she's already running.
My wolf explodes to life, howling in agony. MATE. HURT MATE. FIX IT.
I try to shift, to chase her, but my body won't obey. The mate bond—dormant for so long—suddenly flares to life like a live wire in my chest. Pain shoots through me, stealing my breath.
Something is very, very wrong.
"Let her go," Celeste says from behind me, unconcerned. "She was going to find out eventually. Now you can finally be free."
But I don't feel free.
I feel like I'm dying.
The bond writhes in my chest, and for the first time in six years, I feel it properly. Not the cold thread of obligation I've been ignoring. The real thing. Hot and bright and absolutely vital.
"What did you do?" I grab Celeste's arm, suddenly suspicious. "The bond—it's never felt like this before."
Fear flashes in her eyes, there and gone. "I don't know what you're talking about."
She's lying. I can smell it.
"What. Did. You. Do?"
Before she can answer, another scent fills the cabin. Old. Powerful. Ancient.
Magic.
Blood magic.
And it's coming from Celeste's skin like smoke from a dying fire, finally burning out after years of keeping something locked away.
My wolf howls again, and this time, the sound is full of horror.
Because I finally understand.
The bond wasn't cold because I didn't love Aria.
It was cold because someone made sure I couldn't feel it at all.