Chapter 7
Time passed quietly at home.
I deliberately tuned out all news related to him. Anytime his name popped up on the pack forums or in some overly dramatic headline-“Alpha Manfred and Model Mate Welcome Mystery Pup“-I’d simply scroll faster.
Instead, I focused on preparing for my studies abroad. Shadow Crown’s university wasn’t just a school–it was the hub for every ambitious shifter with a brain and a bloodline. I was ready to dive back in.
One week before the divorce was scheduled to be finalized, I was curled up on my bed, a book in one hand.
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Then my phone buzzed.
A message from a number I should’ve deleted moons ago.
Where are you?
I stared at the screen, then set the phone down face–first on the nightstand. Let him wonder.
Another buzz.
Don’t forget–we have an appointment at the registry office.
Still, I didn’t answer.
We both knew what day it was. I didn’t need a reminder.
Ever since that day–when he walked away
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with Jessica under the bright lights and paparazzi flashes–there’d been nothing left between us but silence.
No more bond. No more shared mindspace. No more lingering scent of him on my skin.
My wolf had mourned in her own way. The first few nights back home, she’d paced the edge of the forest, nose in the air, tracking a mate who wasn’t coming. But now? Now she barely twitched when his name crossed my screen.
Silence was all I had left to give him.
And honestly?
It was the only answer he deserved.
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Manfred’s Pov
I hadn’t expected the villa to feel this empty -an unfamiliar unease creeping in. Emily had moved to the capital for me, leaving behind no family or close friends here.
I stepped inside, and the scent hit me first–not Emily’s, but the lack of it. Her honey–and–wild–thyme scent used to cling to the curtains, the couch, the air itself. Now, all I got was furniture polish and quiet.
Too quiet.
I was only here for a file–something buried in my office that I should’ve grabbed days ago. But now that I was standing in this hollowed–out home, all I could think about was the fact that Emily had just packed her things.
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She’d taken her presence with her.
No traces. No scent trails. No hair in the brush or half–empty tea on the counter. Just gone.
Even during our worst fights–even after the mess with Jessica–Emily had never truly left. She might have stormed off to the guest room or ignored me for a day or two, but her scent had always been there. Steady. Reassuring.
I sat on the edge of the couch and pulled out my phone.
Where are you?
The message hung in the chat like a howl with no echo.
I waited.
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No response.
A tension curled in my gut, low and restless. My wolf–usually calm unless challenged -shifted uneasily under my skin. He didn’t like this silence. Emily had always answered. Even if it was just an annoyed “busy” or a meme of a wolf chewing a phone cord.
Then my phone rang.
Jessica.
I almost didn’t answer, but habit–and obligation–won.
“Manfred, where did you go?” Her voice was sweet, a little breathy, with that helplessness. “I brought you soup. I’m outside your place, but no one’s home. It’s freezing out here… When will you be back?”
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“I had to pick up a file,” I said, flatly.
I glanced out the window. Night had fallen fast. I knew I should refuse.
But as she described–softly, earnestly- how long she’d spent preparing the meal, my resolve wavered.
Emily still hadn’t replied. Maybe she was busy. Maybe she was asleep. Maybe-
Stop. She’s not here because she doesn’t want to be.
I scrolled up through our chat history, and that guilt turned into something far heavier.
Before, my phone had been full of her. Little check–ins. Photos of flowers she’d found on her morning walks. Voice notes where
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I could hear her laugh or her wolf in the background, húffing at squirrels. She used to share everything with me–silly things, quiet things, things that didn’t matter to anyone else.
But they had mattered to me.
Now? Silence.
No new messages. No scent in the air. No bond to reach for.
I clung to the thought like a lifeline: Once we remarry, things will go back to how they
were.
They had to.
Right?
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