Chapter 3

After Alpha Harvey left, I took down the wedding photo hanging in the bedroom.

Ten years.

Ten years of being his Luna, and the only thing we truly shared was this single photograph.

How laughable.

I stared at the picture.

The groom's smile was stiff, his posture rigid, as if the mere act of standing beside me was unbearable. A noticeable gap separated us, as though even the photographer's command to "get closer" had been too much to ask.

We had taken more than ten attempts to get this shot. I still remembered the photographer's quiet muttering to the staff:

"Is this a wedding shoot or a punishment? The groom won't smile or get close to the bride. If he doesn't want to get married, why bother?"

Even my wolf had whined that day, restless and uneasy in the presence of a mate who didn’t want us. And yet, back then, I had clung to foolish hope.

Now, I removed the photo from its frame, my fingers gripping the edges.

Behind me, a voice cut through the silence.

"Isn't that your most treasured picture? What, finally ready to take it down?"

I didn’t flinch.

It was rare for Alpha Harvey to be home this early—he usually spent his nights in someone else's arms. My wolf barely stirred at his voice now. If anything, she let out a bored yawn in my mind, more interested in the speck of dust floating by than the man we were once bound to.

I thought back to the first time I caught him cheating.

One year after our wedding.

I had clawed the mistress's face, left her bleeding, but Alpha Harvey had only leaned against the door, watching with amusement.

"Go ahead. Take her down." He had smirked. "If not her, there'll be another after her."

Back then, this version of Alpha Harvey scared me the most—the detached observer, the man who watched me unravel like I was entertainment.

But now?

I felt nothing.

I ignored him and pulled a suitcase from the wardrobe, tossing in clothes.

That finally made him move.

His hand closed around my wrist, firm but uncertain.

"Where are you going?"

The fresh bandages on my wrist turned red as the wound reopened.

I didn’t even wince.

"In a bad mood," I said flatly. "Going on a trip with my friends for a few days."

For a moment, he hesitated.

Then, without another word, he let go.

That night, he moved back into the bedroom.

"I hurt you," he had said, as if stating a mild inconvenience. "This is my way of making amends."

I threw his pillows and blankets out of the room without hesitation.

"Go back to Yvonne. I don't need your concern."

His face darkened, his lips curling into a cold smirk.

In a blink, he had me pinned to the bed.

"You're still my mate, Jasmine."

His hand slid under my nightgown, possessive.

My wolf growled, not in longing, but in warning. A deep, primal sound that made the air around us crackle with tension.

I didn’t flinch.

I didn’t beg.

Instead, I raised my hand—

Smack.

The slap echoed in the room.

"Alpha Harvey, you beast! Don't touch me! You disgust me!"

The overpowering scent of another woman clung to his skin, making my stomach churn. My wolf sneezed dramatically in my head, as if even her senses were offended.

His eyes flashed dangerously, a growl rising from his chest.

But instead of retaliating, he punched the pillow beside me in frustration.

"You'll regret this, Jasmine!"

I wiped my hand on the sheets as if scrubbing away filth.

"I already regret wasting ten years on you."

His jaw clenched, and he stormed out, slamming the door behind him.

That night, he brought Yvonne back again.

Half-asleep, I heard the noises from the study.

The man's heavy breathing.

The woman's exaggerated moans.

He was doing it on purpose.

A punishment.

A reminder.

He had never kept his mistresses overnight before.

My wolf sighed. Really? That’s his idea of revenge? Pathetic.

I pushed the blanket off me, walked barefoot to the study, and stood in the doorway.

The door was wide open.

Alpha Harvey looked up, expecting to see me break, to see me rage.

Instead, I just watched.

Calm. Expressionless.

Unbothered.

That pissed him off more than anything.

He grabbed a pillow and hurled it at me.

"Get out!"

I caught it midair. Didn’t even blink.

With one last glance, I turned and shut the door.

I felt a dull ache in my chest.

Not because I loved him.

Not because I was jealous.

But because I had spent a decade trying to be a good mate to a man who had never been mine to begin with.

I dragged my suitcase to my best friend's place.

Two more days.

And I'd be gone.