Chapter 1

To everyone's surprise, Alpha Ulysses, who was one of the main protagonists at the proposal ceremony, left early.

Today was supposed to be a special day—not only was it meant to be his proposal ceremony to me, but it was also a celebration of our pack's victory in the war.

He had promised me for the tenth time that he would propose today.

At the celebration party, while the soldiers kept toasting me, Ulysses was busy chatting and drinking with his secretary, Camilla.

Their interaction was undeniably intimate, as if Camilla were the heroine of the day instead of me.

He didn't even spare me a glance, despite the fact that I was running a high fever and nearly fainted from drinking.

The pity in my comrades' eyes said it all—everyone could see who I was suffering for.

When the engagement ceremony was about to begin, instead of proposing to me as planned, Ulysses broke his word yet again.

He anxiously carried an unconscious Camilla to the car.

"Camilla drank too much for me. She's not feeling well—I need to take her home," he said. "We'll have to postpone the engagement ceremony for another day."

Without waiting for my response, he hurried to settle Camilla into the passenger seat.

After eight years of love, this was the tenth time he had delayed our engagement because of Camilla.

Usually, I would break down and cry and plead, hoping he would realize who truly loved him, who fought alongside him time and time again on the battlefield.

But this time, I simply smiled softly and said, "Sure, drive safe."

Ulysses seemed surprised by my calm response but quickly regained his composure.

"I'll buy you some luxuries to make it up to you," he added before driving off.

Before leaving, he carefully shut Camilla's window to shield her from the wind in her drunken state.

I remembered how, whenever I drank, he would insist on keeping the window open—even in the dead of winter—claiming he couldn't stand the smell of alcohol in the car.

Now I understood—it was never about the alcohol. It was because it was me.

The night's moonlight was cold, and so was my heart.

I took a deep breath and quietly placed my wedding ring back in my bag.

After eight years, it was time to let go.

—

Early the next morning, I handed my prepared resignation to Beta Edgar.

Beta Edgar was taking care of business when I walked in. He was stunned to see my resignation - I had been the best healer in the army during the long war in the Darkwood Pack, saving countless lives, including his and Ulysses'.

Beta Edgar hesitated before asking, "Does Alpha Ulysses know about this?"

I smiled bitterly. "I'll tell him tonight, though he won't care."

"You two are recognized as model lovers by the wolves in the pack," Beta Edgar sighed. "Fighting side by side, the closest of lovers and comrades. Everyone envied your love..."

Yes, those were cherished memories.

But if you keep looking back, you'll never be able to move forward.

—

I returned home at 10 p.m. The house was unusually quiet and empty.

That was when a notification popped up on my phone—Camilla had tagged me in a post.

**"Thank you to our busy Alpha for spending the afternoon with me. I know we're special to each other. Going to the beach with him tomorrow—help me pick which dress looks best?"**

She paired the caption with several selfies, each featuring a different swimsuit, her body carefully posed to highlight her curves.

And in the reflection of the mirror in one of them, I saw Ulysses—shirtless, cigarette in hand.

I knew then that he wouldn't be coming home tonight.

I didn't know how many times this had happened in our eight-year relationship.

But this time, I felt nothing.

Calmly, I dialed another number.

"I'm accepting your offer. I'm leaving this place and moving to a different pack."

A deep, magnetic voice responded on the other end:

"Good. I'll personally welcome you to the Blast Pack in three days."

Chapter 2

Five years ago, Ulysses suffered one of the worst defeats of his life at the hands of the Blast Pack.

At the time, he was at the peak of his ambition as the newly appointed Alpha. During a border dispute with the Blastwind Pack, he launched a surprise attack, leading his warriors into battle—only to face an unprecedented rout.

From that moment on, the name “Blast Pack” became a forbidden topic.

Although the two packs later signed a peace agreement and grew closer over the years, Ulysses never truly moved on from that defeat—let alone allowed me to set foot in that place.

**Ulysses, once I arrive at the Blast Pack, we may never see each other again.**

•

The next morning, I started packing.

Halfway through, Ulysses stumbled in, drunk, reeking of pungent rose perfume.

I froze.

As werewolves, our sense of smell was highly sensitive, and we rarely used perfume. Ulysses, in particular, despised it—so much so that he had once thrown away part of my collection.

Then, it hit me.

He had spent the night tangled up with Camilla and deliberately doused himself in that overpowering scent to mask any trace of her.

Noticing my half-packed suitcase, he hesitated before stepping forward and wrapping his arms around me from behind.

“Honey, Camilla took too long to sober up last night, so I booked a hotel room to stay in,” he said.

I looked up, startled.

This was the first time in our relationship that he had ever offered an explanation for staying out overnight.

I simply nodded.

He eyed my luggage. “Are you going on a business trip?”

“Pretty much,” I replied evenly.

Ulysses seemed relieved. “I've got things to take care of today. Just came back to grab a few things—I won't be staying for lunch.”

“Okay.”

I continued packing without looking at him.

I had planned to tell him over lunch that I was leaving for good, officially ending our eight-year relationship. But now, it seemed that opportunity had vanished.

He headed into the bedroom, grabbed a gift bag and a few clothes from the closet, then stormed out.

**Boom.**

The framed photo we had once treasured was knocked off the display case, crashing to the floor in pieces.

Ulysses didn't even glance back before slamming the door behind him.

I walked over and knelt down, carefully picking up the shattered glass and the fallen picture.

It was a photo from the day we won our first war together.

Both of us were in a terrible state—disheveled, bloodstained, yet triumphant. He had his arm around my shoulders, grinning broadly at the camera.

It was on that day that he had promised me he would marry me, that I would become his Luna.

Like so many other promises, this one had been forgotten the moment Camilla became his secretary.

The clock ticked in the silence of the empty room.

After a long pause, I gathered the broken glass, burned the picture, and left the ashes behind—discarding them along with the last remnants of my attachment.

•

That night, exhausted from packing, I got a call from my best friend.

“Is Ulysses insane? He's bragging about his relationship with that slut Camilla all over social media! You're his mate—his only Luna!”

I checked my phone.

Camilla's latest post showed her at the beach, posing in a revealing bikini. Around her neck, a moonstone necklace gleamed under the sunlight.

Her caption read:

**”You said moonstone represents the purest love. Three wonderful years together—love you forever, my one and only Alpha.”**

**Three years?**

Ah.

It was also the anniversary of our **eight-year** relationship.

We had never celebrated it—not even once. I had forgotten it entirely.

I sighed and told my friend, “I'm not his Luna. We were never legally registered as married.”

“What? You've been together for eight years, and you never made it official?”

Yes.

In those eight years, Ulysses had canceled our wedding plans ten times.

•

At eleven p.m., unexpectedly, Ulysses came home.

Chapter 3

When Ulysses got home, he headed to the bedroom to change but froze when he noticed the empty display case—the framed photo was missing.

“Where's the picture we kept here?”

He rushed at me, didn't even have time to drop his jacket.

“It fell and broke,” I replied.

His gaze flickered to the broken glass in the trash can, and his expression eased. “That's okay, we can take more pictures later.”

He finally set his jacket aside and pulled out a shopping bag.

“I hadn't gotten around to giving you the gift I promised yesterday. Today marks our eighth anniversary, so here's a ring. Happy anniversary.”

He placed the box on the table.

I could hardly believe what I was hearing.

Eight years together, and he had never once remembered our anniversary.

I slid the ring onto my finger and immediately noticed that the band was far too thick for me.

I smiled to myself—he must have bought it as an afterthought while picking out Camilla's necklace.

“By the way, the year is almost over. Have you considered stepping back from this year's army evaluation and promotion?” he asked casually. “Camilla has been by my side for three years now, and her biggest dream is to gain recognition like you. You've been promoted several times in a row—she's eager to surpass you for once. Could you help her out?”

His tone carried a hint of hesitation.

I smiled inwardly. **So, this gift comes with strings attached.**

The honors I had received over the years had never been handed to me—I had earned them through my own battlefield achievements.

“Of course,” I answered calmly.

Not just this year, but every year after. I would no longer compete with her.

**After tonight, I would be gone.**

“You… agree?”

My immediate response caught him off guard. He studied me for a moment, then continued.

“Well, Camilla is my secretary, and she's just as dedicated to me and the pack as you are. It's only fair.”

He smiled slightly, as if reassuring himself.

“And since you'll be my Luna, everything in the pack will be yours. There's no need to fight over this… By the way, let's go to the registry office tomorrow morning and make it official. We'll register our marriage and start planning the ceremony.”

I said nothing.

His eyes suddenly flickered with realization. “Oh, right. You mentioned business traveling tomorrow. What time is your flight?”

“Three in the afternoon.”

I met his gaze, debating whether to tell him the truth—this was my last night here.

But before I could speak, his phone rang.

Camilla.

Her sweet voice carried through the speaker. She had a stomach bug and desperately needed someone to take care of her.

After hanging up, he looked at me guiltily. “Well… Camilla isn't feeling well. She's just a girl, and she doesn't know how to handle these things on her own. I should go check on her.”

This time, it almost sounded like he was asking for permission.

I forced a smile. “That's okay. Go.”

He let out a breath, visibly relieved.

Standing up, he added, “Since your flight is at 3 p.m., we have time. Let's register the marriage at 10 a.m. Don't worry, I'll be there this time, no matter what.”

I laughed bitterly.

He didn't even give me the chance to end things face to face.

•

The next morning, instead of going to the marriage registry, I headed straight to the airport.

The VIP staff guided me through a private entrance to the exclusive hangar.

On the spacious runway, a sleek, luxurious blue private jet gleamed under the sunlight.