Chapter 2: Broken Promises and Bitter Truths

My phone buzzed—Savannah texted me:

The screen lit up with her name. My heart skipped, just for a second. Even now, some stupid part of me hoped for an apology—or at least an explanation that made sense.

"Babe, why did you suddenly take off? I wasn’t ready at all!"

Her words felt so out of place, like she was talking to someone else. Was she messing with me? Or just pretending?

"Today was really complicated. I can’t explain it in a few words."

She always dodged, always gave me half-smiles and excuses. Did she even realize how much that stung?

"Just trust me—I have my reasons. I’ll explain everything when I get back!"

I read her words over and over, searching for anything real. All I found was distance. It was like she was already gone.

Her words didn’t reassure me at all.

They felt empty, rehearsed. I could almost hear her saying them to someone else, using that same tone, that same little sigh she always gave at the end. Like I was just another audience member.

That picture-perfect smile was pretty, but sometimes her expression just felt... off.

Sometimes, when the light hit her face just right, she looked like a stranger—someone wearing Savannah’s skin, but with eyes that never quite met mine.

Just one look and I could tell she was imitating someone.

It was subtle, but I saw it—the tilt of her head, the way her laugh came too loud at jokes that weren’t even funny. Sometimes she’d glance at me, and I wondered who she was trying to be.

I didn’t want to hear her explanations anymore.

I was done. Done with the lies, done pretending everything was fine. My heart was bruised, raw, running on empty for months.

I’m the kind of guy who needs honesty. Real emotion.

I can forgive almost anything, but not a fake smile. Not love that’s just for show. I wanted something real, even if it hurt.

Once I set my heart on someone, I’d do anything to make her happy.

I’d moved mountains for her—worked double shifts, drove through blizzards, skipped meals to pay her tuition. I would’ve given her the world, if she’d only asked.

But when I saw Carter’s son kissing her—those eyes, that mouth I knew by heart—disgust and resentment surged inside me.

It was like someone spray-painting graffiti all over a painting I’d spent years working on. My fists clenched at my sides. I wanted to scream, but I just stood there, taking it.

I won’t even eat after someone else—so how could I accept my wife being all over another guy in public?

That image burned behind my eyes. The betrayal was so complete, it felt like a punch to the gut. I was raised to believe in loyalty, in keeping your word. This? This was something else entirely.

I’m the last apprentice of Alpha Rowan from Maple Hollow’s werewolf pack. The most promising young wolf in the region. The kind who was supposed to have it all.

Alpha Rowan was a legend in our parts—old-school, proud, strict as hell. He took me in when I was just a scared kid, taught me how to survive, how to lead. Being chosen as his apprentice? Biggest honor of my life. I never took it for granted.

Two years ago, when I left the woods to take the pack’s traditions out into the world, a rival clan spiked my drink with something nasty.

I was at a backwoods bar, celebrating my new job, when everything went sideways. The world spun, my vision blurred, and I knew I’d been drugged. I barely made it out before everything went black.

The drug, brewed by folks messing with stuff they shouldn’t, was crazy strong.

It was the kind of thing you only heard about in whispers—old magic, outlawed for a reason. My body felt like it was burning up, my mind slipping away. I was lucky to come out alive.

I dunked myself in an icy well, then staggered into a rundown mountain town. That’s where I met her—Savannah, wild and laughing, like she was born from the woods herself.

That night, the cold snapped me back to myself. I stumbled into a greasy diner, half-frozen, and there she was—Savannah, eyes bright, laughing like she owned the night. I thought it was fate.

After one wild night, I decided to marry her. I kept working so she could finish college.

It was reckless, impulsive. But she looked at me like I was her whole world, and I wanted to believe it. I promised her everything, not knowing how much it would cost me.

The old pack chronicles I’d spent years restoring were burned in a fire.

I came home to nothing but smoke and ash, my life’s work gone. My stomach dropped through the floor. I never found out who did it, but I had my suspicions.

Alpha punished me, making me stay up on the ridge, freezing, to rewrite them all over again.

Long nights under the stars, scribbling by lantern light, my fingers numb and raw. But I did it, because that’s what loyalty meant.

Savannah mostly left me alone, hardly ever coming by.

She’d bring coffee sometimes, maybe a sandwich, but mostly she kept her distance. I told myself she respected my work. Now, I’m not so sure.

After we got our marriage license, I always wanted to take her for wedding photos, throw a party, go on a real honeymoon.

I pictured us on a beach, her hair blowing wild, our toes in the sand. Every time I brought it up, she changed the subject—said we didn’t have the money, that there’d be time later.

But she always said, as a small-town girl who’d worked hard to get into college, if her classmates found out she was married, they’d look down on her.

She was embarrassed. She wanted to fit in, not stand out. I tried to understand, but it still hurt. I wanted to shout it from the rooftops. She wanted me hidden.

She pleaded, almost shy:

"Derek, can we postpone the wedding? We’re still young, and I’m only a junior. I want to enjoy campus life a bit longer."

Her voice was soft, her eyes wide. She looked so earnest, I almost believed her. Part of me wanted to say yes to anything she asked.

I ran my fingers through her long brown hair and smiled:

"Focus on your studies. I’ll pay your tuition."

I meant it. I took extra shifts, skipped meals, even pawned my old guitar. She was worth it, or so I thought.

But there was always a knot in my heart.

No matter what I did, I couldn’t shake the feeling something was off. I was giving everything, and getting nothing back.

After I married Savannah, Alpha refused to see me.

He was furious. Said I’d broken tradition, put the pack at risk. I tried to explain, but he wouldn’t hear it. The silence between us just got wider.

For a werewolf, marriage means a formal moonlit oath. You need a ceremony before the Alpha and the pack elders. Without that, it’s not real. Not even legal.

I skipped the ritual, thinking love was enough. But in our world, oaths matter. Without them, nothing counts—not even the law.

I didn’t want to let down the Alpha who raised me, but I didn’t want to hurt Savannah either.

I was stuck in the middle. Tried to make it work, but the harder I tried, the more it all unraveled.

So I kept doing everything Alpha asked—begging for forgiveness, over and over.

I called, wrote letters, took every job he threw my way—no matter how dirty or dangerous. Just wanted to prove I was still loyal.

But my calls went unanswered.

The silence was worse than any punishment. I’d never felt so alone in my life.

Alpha left for Scotland with my packmate, bringing the old ways across the ocean.

I watched them go, feeling like I’d lost my family all over again. The woods felt emptier, the nights colder.

I never understood why Alpha disliked Savannah, but now, I think I’m starting to get it.

He always said she had secrets, that something didn’t add up. I thought he was just being old-fashioned. Maybe he was right.

I never regretted supporting her through college.

I was proud. I bragged about her to everyone. I wanted her to succeed, to have the life she dreamed of.

But facing her endless demands and fake smiles, all I felt was exhaustion.

It was like running a marathon with no finish line. Every time I thought we were close, she moved the goalposts. I was just tired.

I didn’t want to be her hidden ATM in the backwoods anymore. I didn’t want to be the secret blood donor for her friends.

I wanted to be her husband, not her bank account, not her emergency supply. I wanted to matter.

Now that she had someone she liked, it was time for me to leave.

I let the thought settle. It was heavy, but weirdly freeing. Maybe it was time to find out who I was without her. Ha.