My wolf whined softly as I started packing my things, and my gaze landed on the large leather-bound book sitting on the coffee table. It was our “album,” a tradition Nicho had insisted on. Each photo inside captured a moment from the years we’d spent together—his promise to give me 9,999 memories before making me his Luna. He’d said he wanted me to choose him, not because of the mate bond, but because of his devotion.
The album was nearly full, with only one blank page left. But all those promises now felt hollow, shattered by the way he had drifted into Selena’s arms. My wolf growled again, a mixture of sadness and anger that mirrored my own feelings.
I picked up the album and carried it outside to the clearing where the pack often held bonfires. The moonlight illuminated the open space as I crouched to build a small fire. When the flames took hold, I placed the album on the kindling and watched it burn, the edges curling and blackening. Smoke rose into the air, carrying away years of love, promises, and heartache.