CHAPTER 10

I couldn’t sleep last night, no matter how much I tried. Tossing and turning, I finally gave up when it became clear that sleep wouldn’t come. The weight on my chest was suffocating, and I knew only one thing could ease it. My wolf needed to run.

I slipped out of the house into the quiet night, heading toward the secluded field I had visited countless times. It was as empty as I expected. I stood still, letting my senses expand, searching for the faintest scent of another. When I was certain I was alone, I walked to the shelter of a large tree.

She stirred within me as I slipped out of my dress, standing naked under the cool moonlight. My skin tingles with anticipation as I let her take control.

The shift began, my bones snapping and reshaping with familiar but fleeting pain. And then, she emerged—Zoe, my wolf.

She was beautiful, a sight that stole breaths. White as fresh snow, her fur was flawless, untouched by even the faintest hint of another color. She was everything I lacked: grace, beauty, and unshakable confidence.

“Be careful, alright?” I murmured, but Zoe barely acknowledged me.

She stretched, muscles rippling under her pristine coat, and then bolted into the night.

As she ran, I felt the world shift. My worries melted with every stride, replaced by the sheer joy of freedom. The wind rushed past us, carrying away my pain.

For an hour, she ran as if nothing could stop her. When she finally slowed, satisfied, we walked back to where I’d left my clothes. But just as we reached the spot, Zoe stopped abruptly.

“Mate.”

The word echoed in my mind, soft but resolute.

Then I heard it—a rustle in the woods. My breath caught as he stepped into view.

He was magnificent.

Tall and powerful, his reddish-brown fur glowed like molten copper under the moonlight. His movements were fluid, each step radiating strength and confidence. His amber eyes, piercing and intelligent, locked onto Zoe with an intensity that made my heart race.

Zoe was mesmerized, and so was I.

They stared at each other for what felt like an eternity before he took a step forward. Then, as if compelled by some invisible force, Zoe sprang into motion, and they darted into the forest together.

Their coats—white and russet—blurred against the autumn landscape as they ran. They leaped and tumbled, nipping at each other playfully. Their howls echoed through the woods, a hauntingly beautiful harmony that spoke of a bond deeper than words.

It was breathtaking to watch them—two souls perfectly in sync.

When they finally tired, they stood facing each other, their gazes lingering as though they could convey every unspoken emotion. Slowly, he turned and disappeared into the woods.

Zoe let out a soft whine before retreating to where my clothes lay. I stood there, staring after him, feeling the ache of a moment too fleeting.

The next morning, exhaustion clung to me, though Zoe was practically glowing with happiness.

“Don’t complain,” she teased. “Ian loves us so much.”

Her joy was infectious, yet bittersweet. She had spent the entire morning reminiscing about him.

“He’s kind and gentle, everything we could want in a mate,” she sighed dreamily.

I couldn’t help but compare Ian to my human mate—the one who made no secret of his hatred for me.

By the afternoon, I couldn’t take being idle any longer. I wandered to the living room, drawn by the sound of laughter. I didn’t need to see it to know who it was.

Elsa.

My stomach twisted as I entered. There she was, seated beside my husband, her arm linked with his. The way she looked at him—with open admiration—was enough to make my chest ache.

He was the first to notice me. His eyes flicked up briefly before returning to her, no trace of recognition or warmth in his gaze.

“Her Majesty finally wakes,” Elsa drawled, her voice dripping with mockery.

She leaned closer to him, her touch deliberate, her smirk daring me to react.

I swallowed the lump in my throat and turned away, heading to the dining room. I ordered my meal and ate in silence, willing myself to block out the laughter echoing from the other room.

But it was impossible.

When I finished, I stood to leave, only for my sister to block my path.

“I know we’re not best friends,” she said, pouting. “But I’m still your sister. Come sit with us.”

Before I could refuse, she looped her arm through mine and pulled me back to the living room.

I sat stiffly at the table, unnoticed by everyone as they continued their conversation. My husband didn’t glance at me once. His focus remained entirely on Lena, the woman seated beside him.

The pain of his indifference was a familiar sting, but it cut deeper today.

Drew’s entrance broke the tension in my chest. His warm smile was like a lifeline.

“I hope you’re feeling better,” he said gently, sitting beside me.

I smiled back, grateful for the small comfort. But before I could respond, Williams cleared his throat, silencing the room.

Then Elsa stood, her eyes gleaming with annoyance and I knew she was about to do something.

“Did I tell you all about my sister’s terrible scar?” she said loudly. “It’s hideous, really, but makeup helps her hide it now.”

I froze as a wave of humiliation washed over me.

“If she doesn’t mind, I can show you,” she added, picking up a wipe and walking toward me.

I shot to my feet. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

She feigned innocence, pouting. “Don’t be like that. You used to be fun.”

This wasn’t about fun—it was about tearing me down. I looked at my husband, hoping for even a flicker of support. But there was nothing.

“Enough,” Drew snapped, his voice sharp. “What are you doing?”

Elsa huffed and returned to her seat, muttering under her breath.

I looked at my husband one last time, searching for something—anything—in his eyes. But I found nothing.

And in that moment, I knew.

He would never be mine.

It was time to stop trying.