A twisted ankle—that was all it took for him to rush to her side, to carry her as if she were made of glass. I watched as Caspian gently settled her on the sofa, his hands careful as he placed an ice pack on her foot. His tenderness was a knife in my chest, twisting with every gentle touch he gave her.
And now, they were together again, weren’t they? He must have visited her at the Shadow Crest Pack, bonding with her, ensuring she was always happy, while I and our son remained nothing more than an afterthought.
I remembered the time a rogue attack in the woods had left me with a broken leg. Desperate and in pain, I had reached out to him through our mind link, hoping for some shred of concern. His response had been as cold as ice, "A broken leg isn't life or death. You already escaped the rogue. Why bother me?"
That was when I knew—Caspian never cared. Even though his wolf must have sensed that his mate was in danger, he remained indifferent.
Finally, I said the words I’d been rehearsing for days, "Alpha, as you wish I'm going to sever—I'm leaving."