Chapter 1

In the seventh year of our bond, Jackson betrayed me—emotionally, if not physically.

He didn’t deny it. His voice shook with a fevered honesty I had never heard before.

“Aurora, I’ve fallen in love with her. I love her so much it’s hopeless.”

“I’m not going to dissolve our bond, and I won’t touch her. I just want you to accept that she’ll have a place in my heart.”

I didn’t scream like some heartbroken Omega. I just looked at my Alpha, calm and clear.

“It’s her or me. You can’t have both.”

That night, Jackson—who never touched hard liquor—drank whiskey until dawn.

Eventually, he relented.

“I’ll buy her a ticket to Europe. You pick the destination. I won’t ask questions.”

But in the month before she was supposed to leave, he spent every waking moment with Chloe.

He canceled all Teton Pack meetings. He took her hiking and camping through the Grand Teton National Park, often not coming home until long after midnight.

“Nothing happened,” he told me. “I just… I want to spend a little more time with her.”

That month contained my birthday, our mating anniversary, and the anniversary of my mother’s death.

No matter how many times I called out to him through our pack bond, he didn’t come back to me.

But Jackson—do you know? That plane ticket wasn’t for her. It was for me.

Every year on my birthday, Jackson would go to that famous bakery downtown and order a custom strawberry cream cake just for me.

He’d bring home a giant bouquet of red roses and be at our doorstep by eight, like clockwork.

Now, it was past ten. The hallway was silent.

I posted a quiet birthday story on Instagram, tossed the cold dinner into the trash, and turned off the lights to go to bed.

At eleven, someone knocked on the door.

Then a message from Jackson lit up my phone:

“Chloe’s birthday is tomorrow. Her last wish was to welcome midnight with me.”

“I promise—I’ll make it up to you next year.”

Jackson wasn’t like other men who cheated in the shadows.

He was brutally honest.

So honest that every shred of his obsession with Chloe was laid bare before me, raw and unfiltered.

When Chloe’s pack report had errors, he sat beside her, line by line, helping her revise it.

“She’s new. She’ll learn,” he explained.

When she wasn’t feeling well, he went to her apartment to brew sage tea, warming her stomach with his Alpha hands.

“Chloe came to Jackson Hole alone. It’s tough. If I don’t take care of her, who will?”

When she closed her first deal, he bought her that Silver Spur Necklace she’d been eyeing.

“She’s had her eye on it for months. She’s proud—wouldn’t take a gift without earning it.”

To love deeply is to show restraint.

And honestly, I would’ve preferred if Jackson had just been tempted by her youth and beauty.

Instead, he repressed every Alpha instinct. He didn’t touch her. That told me just how emotionally invested he really was.

Before midnight, Chloe posted a picture on Instagram.

Under the giant Ferris wheel at the Jackson County Fair, two slender figures huddled close together.

“Birthday wish already granted. Thank you, Mr. J.”

That glowing Ferris wheel—the one from our only trip to the fair when we were eighteen—burned through me.

Jackson, you promised me that ride when we were broke teenagers. You swore you’d bring me back when you made it.

And now? You took her.

I couldn’t stay silent.

I sent him a message:

“Come home now, or we dissolve the bond.”

In the seven years we’d been mated, Jackson had never taken me outside Jackson Hole, always citing pack duties.

When we were still in high school, he’d scraped enough money to take me to that fair once. We stood under the Ferris wheel, staring up at the lights.

Even then, a single ticket was a stretch. He looked embarrassed but determined.

“Aurora, one day, when I’m strong enough, I’ll bring you back here and make your dream come true.”

Well, Jackson, you got strong. And then you forgot all about the girl who waited through it all.

Still, ten years of love doesn’t vanish overnight.

As soon as he got my message, he raced home.

He came in with the cold clinging to his coat, anger in his eyes.

But when he saw the raspberry mousse cake melting on the table, something shifted in his expression.

“Chloe likes raspberry,” he muttered. “Maybe the bakery got it wrong.”

I gave a hollow laugh.

“Are you showing off now, Jackson?”

Showing me how deeply he knew her—so deeply he forgot I’m deathly allergic to raspberries.

His brow furrowed. For once, irritation bled into his voice.

“Didn’t I promise to send her away by the end of the month?”

“It’s just a cake. I’ll reorder.”

That sentence shattered the last image I had of him.

The Alpha I loved never treated my needs as “just” anything.

And he didn’t come home alone. Chloe was in the passenger seat, waiting.

“Go to bed. I’m taking Chloe to see the fireworks at the square.”

He didn’t even glance back as he left.

Outside, the night air was sharp. Chloe leaned against the window, waiting with that smug little smile.

Jackson frowned, said something to her—maybe scolding, maybe not. But then he took off his scarf and gently wrapped it around her.

Watching him look at her like that, I finally believed him.

He had really fallen.

Just like when we were eighteen. When he first saw me cheering on the football field and couldn’t look away.

Ten years later, that same look—intense, captivated—was now for another girl.

Chloe was young and beautiful, full of ambition. When she joined the pack, she announced she’d make it to the core leadership team within a year.

Her high ponytail, her fiery energy—it reminded me of myself in high school, leading the cheer squad.

And maybe that’s why it hurt so much.

Because watching him care for her like that, I finally knew:

We were over. Completely.