The Wolf Who Loved Too Late

I knelt on the cold marble floor of Luna Isabella's grand hall, my forehead pressed against the back of my hands, my voice steady as a still lake. "I, Helena Carmichael, pay my respects to Luna Isabella."

Isabella Royce, regal and poised, waved a hand gently.

"Rise, Helena. You saved my life, and I've called you here today to grant you a favor."

I didn't stand.

Instead, I bowed lower, my words deliberate.

"I have one request, Luna. Please grant me permission to break my bond with General Grant Morgan."

The hall fell silent, the air thick with shock.

Isabella's porcelain saucer froze midair, her sharp eyes widening. "What did you say?"

"Your bond with Grant was sealed by Alpha Alexander Royce himself," she said, her voice tinged with disbelief.

"He's the finest wolf in Argentum Town. Countless she-wolves would give anything to be bound to him. Why would you want to shatter that bond?"

I stayed quiet, my lips pressed tight.

Around me, the other she-wolves in the hall exchanged glances, their whispers cutting through the silence.

One of them, a high-ranking matron, spoke up.

"Luna, you've been tucked away in the palace too long. You haven't heard. For three years, Grant's been devoted to that Delilah Hayes, the she-wolf he brought back from the battlefield. He hasn't so much as stepped into Helena's chambers."

"Exactly," another chimed in, her tone sharp.

"Last year at the Moon Festival, Grant pinned a flower in Delilah's hair right in front of every noble she-wolf in the pack. Left Helena standing there like a servant."

Isabella's gaze snapped to me, her expression a mix of shock and pity.

"Helena, is this true?"

My nails dug into my palms, the sting grounding me.

I remembered our binding day, waiting alone as the ceremonial candles burned to nothing, no mate by my side.

I thought of every pack gathering, Grant's arm around Delilah while I lingered in the shadows. I heard their laughter through the courtyard walls, night after night, while I lay awake.

"Yes," I said, the single word draining every ounce of strength I had.

Isabella sighed, her shoulders softening.

"Very well. If this is your wish, I'll grant it. But this bond was decreed by Alpha Alexander, and Grant's a key figure in the pack. For it to be unbound, he must agree."

She summoned an enforcer to fetch a scroll, the document that would sever our bond, and handed it to me.

"If Grant signs this within ten days and doesn't change his mind, I'll ensure Alpha Alexander issues a decree to set you both free."

My hands trembled as I took the scroll, the weight of it heavier than stone.

For a moment, I was back three years ago, when the pack's decree first bound me to Grant.

I was Argentum Town's brightest she-wolf then, my name whispered in awe, my beauty and wit unmatched.

When Alpha Alexander announced I'd be bound to Grant, the war hero, the whole town buzzed.

Everyone knew his heart belonged to another-Delilah, the orphaned she-wolf he'd saved from the battlefield.

He cherished her like a rare gem.

If not for her low status, which Alpha Alexander deemed unfit, he'd have bound himself to her long before.

I begged the Alpha to reconsider, kneeling through the night to spare myself a lifetime of misery. All I got was a cold, "This is the pack's will. You will not defy it."

The years that followed proved my fears right.

On our binding night, Grant left me alone to gaze at the moon with Delilah, skipping even the sacred rites.

I sat in an empty room, the pack's laughter echoing in my ears.

Three years, and he never once entered my chambers.

When I fell ill, he didn't care. At pack feasts, he paraded Delilah on his arm, leaving me to face the pitying stares of the crowd.

The worst was when I tried to reach him, to bridge the gap. His response was always the same, cold and final: "Delilah is my one true mate. You're in the Morgan pack now, so play your part and stay out of the way. My heart belongs to her alone."

I endured it for three years. But saving Isabella's life earned me this chance to break free, and I wasn't letting it slip away.

When I returned to the Morgan estate, I barely crossed the courtyard before a soft, syrupy voice called out.

"Helena, you're back?" Delilah stood under the veranda, her eyes locked on the ornate box carried by the palace attendant behind me.

"Heard Isabella showered the Morgan pack with some fine treasures."

I met her gaze coolly.

"These are mine, gifted to me by Isabella."

Her smile didn't waver, but she stepped forward, reaching for the box.

"Oh, Helena, don't be like that. Isabella wouldn't just gift you something out of the blue. These are for the Morgan pack, aren't they? You're just holding them. Surely you're not planning to keep all that for yourself."

I shifted, blocking her path. "Watch yourself, Delilah. These are Luna's gifts to me. You've got no claim to them."

A flicker of irritation crossed her face before she lunged, grabbing my wrist to yank me aside. Pain shot through me, and I shoved her back instinctively.

She stumbled, nearly falling.

A shadow moved fast, catching her.

Grant's cold eyes locked on me, his voice like ice. "What are you doing?"

I glanced at my wrist, marked with red scratches, then at him shielding Delilah. My chest ached, sharp and raw.

"She tried to take Isabella's gifts," I said, my voice steady despite the trembling in my fingers.

Delilah's eyes welled up, her voice quivering.

"Grant, I swear, Helena's trying to hog the Luna's gifts for herself. I only said a few words, and she pushed me."

Grant's brow furrowed, his gaze slicing through me. "Helena, you come from a noble pack. Why stoop to fighting over trinkets? I've told you before-anything in this estate Delilah wants, she can have."

I laughed, a bitter sound that didn't reach my eyes.

"These aren't the pack's, Grant. They're mine, from Isabella."

A servant girl, unable to hold back, dropped to her knees.

"General! Helena risked her life to save Luna Isabella. She took a blade to the chest, nearly died. These gifts are hers, specially given!"

Grant's eyes flickered to the faint scar peeking from beneath my collar. He froze, just for a moment.

After a long pause, he said, "If you'd explained that sooner, Delilah wouldn't have misunderstood."

Delilah, seizing the moment, sniffled dramatically.

"Helena, I'm sorry, I didn't mean it. I just saw how beautiful those things were and got carried away."

Grant glanced at her, then at the box, and turned to me. "You've never cared for fancy things. If Delilah likes them, let her have them."

My fingers went cold.

It was always like this. Over the years, Delilah had taken my jewelry, my paintings, even the jade pendant my mother left me, all under the excuse of "liking" them. And Grant? He'd always say, "Let her have it."

"No," I said, each word sharp and deliberate.

Delilah's eyes brimmed with tears, her lip trembling. Grant's jaw tightened, his patience thinning.

"Delilah's delicate, gentle. Why make a fuss over this?"

I smirked, cold and sharp.

"Delicate? So that makes it okay for her to steal what's mine?"

Grant faltered, caught off guard.

After a moment, he relented slightly.

"Fine. If you're set on keeping them, name your price. I'll meet it if you hand them over."

I almost laughed at the absurdity. For Delilah, he'd bargain with me?

Slowly, I pulled the scroll from my sleeve and held it out. "Alright. Sign this, and she can have everything."

He didn't even glance at it, just grabbed a pen and scrawled his name. Delilah's face lit up, and she eagerly waved for the attendants to cart off the box. Grant turned to follow her.

"Grant," I called, my voice stopping him.

He looked back, his expression distant. "What now?"

I clutched the scroll, wanting to ask-So, you're agreeing to break our bond? But the hurt lodged in my throat, choking the words.

All I managed was a faint, "Never mind."

He assumed I'd been haggling over land or wealth, his tone flat. "I've given you what you asked for. I won't go back on it."

Then he walked away, not sparing me another glance.

I stood there, watching his retreating figure, my grip tightening on the scroll.

Ten days. Just Ten days, and I'd finally be unbound. Free.