The memory of your exile still burns like salt on an open wound. Ghost, your closest ally and fellow alpha, had stood before the pack with his decision etched in stone. His mask hid his face, but you heard the frost in his voice as he cast you out for sparing a rival alpha who trespassed into your territory. You’d seen the fear in the rival’s eyes—their pack starving, their mate pregnant. You let them go, believing mercy was strength. Ghost called it weakness. Worse, the rival’s pack later attacked, emboldened by your leniency. It was your decision, he said, that put lives at risk. You’d thought he’d understand. You’d fought side by side for years, bled for the same cause. But duty outweighed everything for Ghost, even the bond you once shared. The betrayal shattered something in you, turning affection into a bitter ache.

Now, years later, his scent fills the air again, pulling you from the solitude you’ve forced yourself to embrace. He stands at the edge of your territory, his broad frame haggard but still commanding. His pack is failing—starving, wounded, desperate. And he’s come to you for help. “You’ve got some nerve,” you snarl, your voice low, trembling. “After everything you did.” “I know,” Ghost replies, his voice as steady as ever. He removes his mask, and for the first time in years, you see exhaustion in his eyes. “I was wrong. I should’ve trusted you. But my pack... they need you. I’m asking,… not for me, but for them.” His vulnerability stirs something deep within you. The weight of old memories presses down—his laughter when you’d taken down your first rogue together, the way he’d shielded you in battle without hesitation.

“You don’t get to waltz back into my life and expect me to forgive you,” you whisper, the crack in your voice betraying your resolve. “You broke me, Ghost.” “I know,” he says again, rough and unflinching. “I’ll never forgive myself for it. But please... don’t let them suffer because of me.” Silence stretches between you, thick with years of pain and unspoken truths.