Chapter 1

I was at the local bakery buying a cake with my three-year-old son, Liam, when he suddenly pointed at a strange werewolf and chirped, "Daddy!"

I clamped my hand over Liam's mouth immediately. "I'm so sorry..."

Then, the familiar scent hit me, and I froze.

Alpha Ethan. The Alpha of the Timber Ridge Pack, the pack I used to call home.

He turned his head. His gaze locked onto my face before slowly shifting down to Liam.

The air between us went dead silent.

I scooped Liam into my arms at once, pulling him close so Ethan couldn't catch his scent.

"Excuse us. We have to go."

Liam is three years old now.

Which means it has been three full years since I rejected Ethan.

By the time we got back, darkness had completely swallowed the sky.

Alexander's villa sat on the northern ridge of the pack, nestled on a gentle slope with the best view in all of Silver Creek. After I moved in, he remodeled the second-floor bedroom, put up fresh curtains, and planted a maple tree in the yard. He told me this would be our home from now on.

Liam looked up at me. "Mommy, who was that man?"

I shut the fridge door and turned around to look at him.

"Just a stranger."

"But he kept staring at me. It felt like he knew me," Liam said, tilting his head with a puzzled frown. "And his scent smelled kind of familiar."

I didn't answer. I just bent down, scooped him up, and carried him upstairs.

I bathed him on autopilot. Steam blurred the bathroom mirror, but Ethan's piercing stare kept replaying in my head.

Three years.

I honestly thought I would never see him again for the rest of my life.

Fate really loved sick jokes.

By ten o'clock, Liam was finally fast asleep. Moonlight slipped through the curtains, tracing the soft bridge of his nose and his brow. Those eyes, that nose... he looked so much like Ethan. Carved from the very same mold.

My phone buzzed.

I picked it up. A text from an unknown number with only two words:

"It's me."

I stared at the screen for two seconds, then quietly blocked the number.

Turning off the light, I lay down beside Liam. In the dark, memories from three years ago rushed back like a tidal wave. All the moments I thought I had buried, all the scars I thought had healed—that simple text ripped them wide open again.

Three years ago.

When Ethan and I first got together, we actually had our share of happiness.

Back then, he was gentle. He would drive over to the pack library to pick me up after work. At the time, I worked at the library by day, and pulled two extra jobs on nights and weekends—barista at Starbucks and dog-walking for neighbors. Juggling three jobs barely covered my rent and bills.

He would always show up ten minutes early, leaning against his car door waiting for me. When he saw me walking out, a smile would break across his face, and he would hold the door open for me.

He remembered when I casually mentioned my favorite blueberry muffins, and the very next morning, a fresh box would be sitting on my doorstep. On rainy days, he would tilt the umbrella all the way over to my side, letting his own shoulder get soaked to the bone.

Deep in our subconscious, Ember and Shadow were already calling to each other. I was too naive back then to realize that was the pull of a Fated Mate bond. I thought it was just deep, passionate young love.

I truly believed I had found my person.

Reality slapped me awake in no time.

The gap in our bloodlines was a chasm neither of us could cross.

He was pure Hayes royalty, the future Alpha of Timber Ridge. He grew up with private drivers, private chefs, and clothes that cost more than several months of my hard-earned paychecks.

And me? I was just an ordinary wolf who had shifted late.

Ember didn't awaken until I was eighteen. She was an ash-gray she-wolf—not the strongest, but stubborn as hell.

I was terrified of being looked down on by his circle, terrified of people whispering that I was a social climber. So I refused to take anything from him. Whenever we went out to eat, I would quietly Venmo him half the bill the second we walked out.

Even if that meant slaving away at three jobs every single day.

Every time Ethan got a Venmo alert, he would scowl and tell me we didn't need to split things so cleanly.

I insisted anyway.

I thought that by holding on to my fierce independence, I could earn genuine respect.

I was dead wrong.

Ethan had a friend named Jason. He was also a Timber Ridge member, serving on the pack security patrol.

Jason and I were barely acquaintances. Whenever we bumped into each other in the pack, it was just a nod and a polite "hey." That was it.

Until that party.