Chapter 8

Derek's chest suddenly felt hollow, like a chunk of him had vanished. He frowned, gripping his phone, instinct urging him to call Hannah. But as the call connected, Brittany bumped into him, yelping in pain. His phone hit the floor, screen shattered.

The call never went through.

Brittany clung to him, voice sweet. "Derek, who were you calling?"

"No one," he said, too quickly. "Just remembered some pack business."

Even he was surprised by his own excuse, like a guilty mate caught sneaking around. Brittany didn't press, batting her eyes. "Derek, come to my family's dinner tonight?"

He ruffled her hair, forcing a smile. "Sure."

That evening, not only were Brittany's parents, Lawrence and Jacqueline Kane, at the Kane pack's old den, but Charles Sullivan showed up too. Derek's gut twisted—something big was brewing.

Sure enough, Lawrence spoke up. "Derek, since you and Brittany are promised to each other, why not set a date for the binding ceremony? Make us family sooner."

Jacqueline chimed in, "Exactly! If that little she-wolf hadn't wormed her way in, you two would've been bound ages ago. Dumping her? Best news ever."

Derek's mind drifted. Little she-wolf—they meant Hannah. Why did their words sting?

Seeing him distracted, Lawrence's tone sharpened. "Derek, you're not having second thoughts about binding with Brittany, are you?"

The air grew tense. Brittany smoothed it over. "Mom, Dad, no rush on the binding. I know Derek won't let me down." She turned to him, smiling softly. "Right, Derek?"

Her delicate, blushing face reminded him of Hannah—how she used to look at him, eyes full of hope, asking, "Derek, will you really form a sacred bond with me?" Back then, her mother's shadow loomed, and he'd snapped, "Hannah, you're getting ahead of yourself."

Now, to Brittany, he simply said, "Yeah."

Dinner dragged on, Derek barely present, agreeing to every condition the Kanes threw out. By the end, their binding date was set. As they left, Brittany kissed him, bubbling with excitement. "Derek, thank you for choosing to bond with me."

He should've been thrilled—his longtime crush, his destined mate, was finally his. But his heart felt heavy, joyless. He pulled out his phone to call Hannah, then stopped, hanging up before it rang.

Rain fell, cold and relentless, memories flooding with it. Derek hadn't always hated Hannah and Eleanor. When they first joined the Sullivan pack, news of his mother's death came from other packs. He blamed them, tormenting them mercilessly. He expected Eleanor to treat him like a threat, Hannah to fight for the pack's wealth.

But Eleanor picked him and Hannah up from school every day, cooked for him, knitted him scarves in winter. She was gentler than his own mother ever was. Still, he suspected their kindness was a ploy.

Then came the kidnapping. Eleanor risked her life to save them, landing in the ICU for a month. That shook Derek. For the first time, he mimicked her, cooking his favorite dish to bring to her bedside. "Pup, you've had it rough," she'd said, eyes full of pity.

From then on, things softened with Hannah. He stopped waking up early to avoid her, instead leaving for school at the same time, pretending it was coincidence. He shielded her from bullies, claiming her as his own. They worked side jobs together, braved haunted houses, wandered flower fields. Life felt… hopeful.

Derek was drawn to Hannah, though he'd never admit it. Once, he broke her favorite cup—a gift from her dad—and refused to apologize. She cried, a mess of tears, adorable and heartbreaking. "It's all I have left of him," she'd sobbed. His heart raced, a flustered feeling he'd never known.