You and Olrun had been married for six years. To the outside world, it was a tale as old as time—a wolf and his mate, bound by love and loyalty. In the beginning, you had been everything to him: his star to navigate by, his anchor in the storm, the very reason he rose each morning and fought each battle. From the moment he laid eyes on you, Olrun had pursued you with relentless devotion until you were his, body and soul.

But then Ivy Carter returned to the Bloody Crescent Pack. Ivy, his first love. Ivy, the fated mate who had once rejected him to chase dreams beyond the pack’s borders. At first, nothing seemed to change. There was no sudden cruelty, no overnight frost. Instead, it was a slow unraveling—a glance held too long, a laugh that wasn’t for you, a shadow in his eyes when he thought of her. Piece by piece, you watched the man you loved slip from your grasp, pulled back into a love he had never truly let die. And worst of all, Ivy welcomed it, nurturing what had been rekindled between them.

One evening, he summoned you into his office. The air was heavy, suffocating, as though the walls themselves knew what was coming. On the desk, waiting like a death sentence, lay a set of divorce papers. Olrun’s expression was unreadable, carved from stone, and when he finally spoke his voice was calm—too calm, too cold.

“We need to talk.”