Each word landed like a stone. Every step I took felt like dragging my feet through wet concrete. My wolf, who had been clawing at the edges of my ribs since I'd walked in on them, went eerily still. Not calm. The kind of still that comes before something breaks.
And the last five years with Theron began replaying in my mind, scene by scene, like a film I couldn't pause.
I'd met him seven years ago.
His pack had just been established, barely more than a handful of wolves holding contested territory. I hid the fact that I was the sole surviving heir of the Silvercrest bloodline and quietly funneled every alliance, every resource, every territorial connection my family had into building him up. From an Alpha with nothing to his name to one of the most powerful pack leaders in the region.
After we were mated, he treated me like I was the center of his universe.
When I got sick, he sat at my bedside and refused to leave, his wolf pressed against mine through the bond like a warm hand holding me steady.
When I was hungry, he cooked for me himself, making the oatmeal I loved, the kind that was easy on my stomach.
Every time we went out, he held my hand and never let go.
Every Moon Blessing Day, every anniversary, he showed up on time with a gift and a smile.
Then Corvina moved in, and everything changed.
She was his blood-brother's widow. That was the reason. She had no pack, no one else, so he brought her into our territory.
At first it was just small courtesies. Checking in on her. Making sure she was comfortable in the guest quarters. Then came the late-night summons. Her legs were swollen. Her feet were numb. She needed him. Again and again, she pulled him out of our bed in the middle of the night, her Omega distress pheromones threading through the halls like smoke under a door.
On our mating anniversary, he left me sitting alone at the feast hall and rushed to the Healing Hall to sit with her through a prenatal examination.
I got jealous. Of course I did. But every time, Theron would take my hands and say with absolute conviction: "Her mate saved my life once. His widow and his pup, how can I just abandon them? Seraphina, you're the kindest wolf I know. You understand, don't you?"
Because I loved him, I trusted him. I trusted us. I trusted what we'd built.
Until I saw him in bed with her.
Then I knew exactly how wrong I'd been.