The night Amelia Caldwell, my lifelong rival, swaggered back to Joravia Pack, Alpha Stephan Westbrook was at the airport-everyone smelled it. The media pounced, and by morning, their "rekindled love" was all over the pack's feeds, loud enough to rattle windows. For weeks, social media went nuts: pics of them hanging around the same fancy neighborhood, insiders spilling sappy stuff about their "epic romance." Then someone dug up a photo of me dropping off a pie to Stephan last year. The pack tore into it: "Yara Hollis has been chasing Stephan forever, but Amelia's back one day and she's dust." "Stephan and Amelia should just bond already! Keep losers like Yara out of the way." Amelia posted on her page: a pic of two hands tangled over a burger, caption: "Years gone, but I'd cross the whole damn country to find you." To let them have their "destiny," I packed my bags, left a bond-breaker note, and split. But Stephan lost his mind. Voice cracking, he roared: "When the pack talks crap, mates fight back! You just run off-don't you have a single care in you?!" My business trip flight landed the same night Amelia got back. She hadn't changed-still glowing, grabbing all the attention without even trying. Her split with Stephan years ago, before she bolted, was pack legend. The second word hit she was back, every reporter in Joravia was shoving mics in her face. I pulled my hood up, snuck past the crowd, and prayed she didn't catch my scent. Her perfume stung-too sweet, too loud. Me and Amelia? We've hated each other since we were pups. Always bickering, always trying to one-up. But here's the kicker: a year after she left, Stephan and I bonded. We kept it quiet-three whole years. Nearby, two reporters grumbled, too loud: "That's Stephan's car, right? You think he'd miss picking up his 'true mate'?" "Please-look at that ride. Only one wolf in Joravia drives that. Tomorrow's gonna be a circus." My grip on my suitcase tightened. Stephan switched my flight to tonight, said: "Family dinner tomorrow. Get back early." He'd said he was swamped, sent his assistant to get me. The guy reeked of guilt as he held the car door. "Is Stephan still stuck working?" I asked. "Yeah. but he said he'll race home to you tonight," he mumbled. It was 1 a.m. Stephan never works this late. I knew what it meant: he'd show up eventually. Don't ask where he'd been. When Stephan and I bonded, we kept it quiet-only the elders and our closest packmates knew. Mom hated it. "A secret bond? What if he's still stuck on Amelia? You think that's smart?" But he was the wolf I'd pined for since I was a pup. My nose always twitched when he was near; his scent-pine and something sharp, like citrus-made my head spin. No one knew how my chest ached when I heard he and Amelia split. Or how my pulse raced when his dad, tipsy at a pack barbecue, laughed and said, "Stephan needs a she-wolf with teeth-Yara's got plenty." To me, that beat any big ceremony. When Stephan nodded, like it was the easiest choice, that was enough. Keeping it quiet was my call. The night before we sealed it, I heard his buddy slurring, "You tell the pack, and Amelia'll haul ass back here faster than a wildfire." Stephan was sipping a beer, silent. I strolled over, his arm wrapping around my waist before I could blink. In front of his gaping friend, I plucked the beer from his hand: "Let's keep this under wraps. I don't need Amelia's drama burning down what we got." I laid it all out-my beef with her, how I wanted a real life, no games.

"Take your time to fall for me. But if your heart's still with her? We end this. Now." I remember his laugh, low and rough, before he kissed me-hard, like he was staking a claim. He got it, but played it cool, grinning at his friend: "Got that? Shut your trap next time." The next day, he buried the news. Even the bonding papers-signed by pack officials who came to our place, doughnuts in hand-stayed locked away. So I get why the pack's feeds are wrong. But that photo? My throat went tight. The reporter said it was his car. I zoomed in-tinted windows, but that jawline? I'd know it blind. Below was Amelia's interview. Some guy asked, "Late night-someone waiting for you?" She batted her eyes, giggling. "A girl's gotta have secrets, right?" Nothing's worse than secrets and coincidences. They dig into your head, make you think crazy stuff. I forgot the night Stephan came home, roaring, "You leave me with all that crap? I thought we were in this together!" Forgot how he nuzzled my neck, teasing, "You're colder than winter, Yara." All I could smell was roses-Amelia's perfume-on his jacket that time he stumbled in at 3 a.m. And the gossip? Blasted everywhere one minute, scrubbed clean the next. I heard his call to his assistant, quiet, like he thought I was asleep: "Wipe it all. Every word. She can't see this-she'll lose her mind." The family dinner went off without a hitch-or at least, Stephan acted like it. I hated myself for it. Back in the day, I'd have flipped the table and yelled till he spilled every damn thing. I used to swear I'd never back down: no matter how much I cared, I'd put myself first. But now? I couldn't even ask the question burning in my throat. Scared he'd nod, and I'd be the joke, slinking away with my tail between my legs. Stephan pushed his plate away first, shrugged on his jacket, kissed his mom's cheek, and turned to me: "Tell the driver to take you home. Got stuff to handle this afternoon." He used to tell me where he was going. Used to drag me along, even if it was just a run to the store. Never left me hanging. He never said "I love you," but for three years? He was perfect. Remembered the day we bonded like it was yesterday, caught every little thing I said, could smell when I was mad before I even frowned. Never let me stay upset. Patience for days, too. When I burned the toast, he didn't snap-just laughed, ruffled my hair, and made me watch him do it right. When I mouthed off to his cousin, he pulled me aside, nuzzling my neck, and said, "Easy, firecracker. He's not worth it." So I was sure he loved me. No wolf's that gentle, that steady, with someone they don't care about. But I missed one thing: Stephan's always been a good wolf. Kind to everyone. I just happened to be his bonded mate, so he tried harder. Back then, I scoffed at that thought. But soon, it'd sink its teeth into me like a bad infection. From that day on, Stephan was up before dawn, back after dark. Only thing that stayed? The good-morning kiss he'd chase till I laughed and let him. I clung to that, trying to drown the itch in my chest. Every day was hell-torn between yelling at him and shutting up, lying awake all night. One night, I tossed too much, woke him. He wrapped his arms around me, lips brushing my shoulder, and mumbled: "Tough night? Want me to stay up? Talk?" Tears spilled before I could stop them. I'd always sworn I wouldn't be that she-wolf-paranoid, letting stupid thoughts eat me alive. But here I was, a mess. My head filled with Amelia's texts-sappy crap about "old times," photos of her and Stephan at that diner downtown, the one he used to take me to. And worst of all: she was the one who broke their bond first. "Stephan.," I started. "When you're back from your trip, we'll talk. Promise." I wanted to fight, to make him say it now. I didn't care if he went to the airport, why-just needed an answer to shut up the doubt. He was half-asleep, nuzzling my hair, grumbling, "'M tired, baby. Morning, yeah?"

Stephan was heading out for a five-day trip, catching the first flight at dawn. He hauled me out of bed to fix his collar, voice soft but sharp, like he could smell my mood: "You've been acting weird. Once this chaos dies down, I'll take you to that new burger joint you wanted to try. Promise." That's him-always picking up on when I'm off, always ready to hand over the moon if he can. Little by little, he wore down my walls, making me love him more, need him more, till I couldn't picture a day without his scent in the sheets. I didn't want to fight before he left. Shook my head, blamed work, dodged his questions. For a second, I thought maybe I was just being stupid. But that afternoon, an anonymous account dropped a post-no words, just two photos. Stephan and Amelia, slipping into the same fancy neighborhood, one after the other, under the dark sky. Comments exploded: "YES! Knew they'd bond again!" "Amelia dumped him back then, and he still waited? That's real stuff." "Soulmates, man. You can't fight it." Some pushed back: "Pics don't mean squat." The poster shot back once: "Got more. Stick around." I found the post at 2 a.m. Minutes later, it was gone. I didn't know what to call the feeling-like my chest was squeezed tight, breath coming in short gasps, even though the room was cool. For days, that account posted at the same time. Different jackets, same move: Stephan and Amelia, always a few steps apart. Then, to twist the knife, someone claiming to be Amelia's friend shared a screenshot: "Fate always brings me back." I'd know that profile pic in my sleep. It's been rotting in my block list for years. Me and Amelia clashed a lot, but I never cut her off so hard till that day. Years back, she sent me a photo: her grinning, Stephan's arm around her shoulders, his cologne practically oozing from the screen. She typed, sharp as a bite: "Not bad, huh? Snagged him with one text. Worth all your pining?" "Put half the energy you waste hating me into finding a mate, and maybe you wouldn't be alone." "Even if you tried, Yara-Stephan'd pick me. Duh." "You're always second place. Forever." First time I didn't fire back. Just stared at that photo, over and over, my chest aching like I'd taken a hit. The wolf I'd cared about for years? Just a toy to her. Worse, she used their stupid little moments like a weapon. So yeah-I did what she wanted. Played the loser, slunk off. Deleted their numbers, skipped every pack cookout they might show up to. I hadn't slept in days. Couldn't eat, couldn't focus on work. I stared at my phone, torturing myself, waiting for their next "big story" to drop. I scrambled for excuses, clinging to hope-until Amelia's interview hit the pack feeds. As the pack's up-and-coming jewelry designer, she didn't need drama to shine. But she ate it up. "Ms. Caldwell, word is you've got news! You two look perfect-gonna spill when the time comes?"