"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.