Chapter 10
The pack house was never truly mine. It was supposed to be a home–a sanctuary for an Alpha and his family–but Ronan Vale of the Obsidian Howl Pack had never treated it as such. His presence was a rarity, his attention fleeting. It had always been that way. Even after I bore him a son, even after Kieran grew up waiting for a father who was never truly there, Ronan remained absent.}
The only time I had ever begged him for something was for Kieran’s last wish–to see the ocean with his parents. It wasn’t much to ask, was it? A child’s simple dream. And yet, I had to plead, over and over, until he finally agreed. But on the eve of our departure, Ronan disappeared. He left us behind, just as he always did. That same night, Kieran took his last breath, never getting the chance to see the vast blue waves he had longed for.
I buried my son alone. There was no comforting hand, no whispered words of solace from the mate who should have been by my side. Days later, I found out why he had abandoned us–not for duty, not for some pressing Alpha obligation. He had been with my sister, Adeline Leclair. She had wanted to see the snow, and Ronan had taken her thousands of miles away to find it. The proof was right there on her Instagram, a picture of them together in the snow–capped mountains, her caption piercing through my grief like a dagger:
[I said I wanted to see the snow, and you took me thousands of miles just to find it.]}
I didn’t cry. I didn’t scream. What was the point? My son was gone, and my mate had never belonged to me in the first place. So, I packed my things. I had nothing left to keep me here.
But as I prepared to leave, Ronan broke down for the first time. He clung to me, his tears soaking my shoulder, his voice trembling with desperate pleas. Yet, his sorrow came too late. His grief meant nothing to me now.”
<-0
Returning from the cemetery to the pack house felt like walking through a graveyard of memories. Kieran’s laughter still echoed in my mind, his tiny hands pulling at my dress, begging for just one more bedtime story. Now, the silence was deafening. Each toy I packed away, each piece of clothing I folded, felt like I was erasing him from existence. My hands trembled as I clutched his belongings, tears falling unchecked.
But I couldn’t stay. Not in this house. Not in this pack. Not with the man who had never truly been mine.
Dragging my suitcase down the stairs, I halted when I saw Ronan carrying Adeline in his arms. She looked up at him, her hands curled around his neck as if she belonged there. And maybe, in his eyes, she did. He walked past me without so much as a glance, setting her down on the couch with the kind of tenderness I had never received.}
“Anastasia Leclair,” his voice was cold, indifferent. “Is this just another one of your dramatic stunts?“}
Adeline, feigning innocence, sighed. “Anastasia, I twisted my ankle, and since Ronan said the Obsidian Howl Pack was close by, he brought me here to take care of it. You don’t mind, do you?“}
I watched as he tended to her injury, his hands careful, his touch reverent. A twisted ankle–that was all it took for him to drop everything and run to her side.
I remembered when I had been injured. A rogue attack had left me with a broken leg, and in my desperation, I had reached out to him through our mind link, hoping–stupidly–for some concern.}]
“A broken leg isn’t life or death,” he had said. “You already escaped the rogue. Why bother me?“?
That was when I knew. Ronan had never cared. Not for me. Not for Kieran. His wolf should have sensed his mate’s pain, should have felt my suffering–but he had remained indifferent.
And now, as I stood here watching him dote on my sister, the truth had never been clearer. I had never been his priority. I had never been his exception. He was forced to take me as his mate, but his heart had always belonged to Adeline.}
If it had been her instead of me, she would have been Luna of the Obsidian Howl Pack by now. But it was me–me, who had given him the power to become Alpha. And still, I was nothing more than a placeholder. A name on paper. Nothing in his heart.
My fingers curled around the handle of my suitcase. I had made my decision. There was no turning back.
