Winter Never Turns Back

Dominic's silver collar never came off.

It was meant to suppress what remained of his wolf.

Two years ago, after the pack attack, he lost the ability to shift. An Alpha without his wolf form couldn't even project a proper aura.

I took care of him for two years.

Two years later, he recovered.

The first thing he did was propose to Vivian—the woman who'd abandoned him.

The media called it a love story for the ages. Devotion rewarded. A happy ending.

I stood on the pedestrian street, head tilted back, watching the proposal live-streamed on the massive outdoor screen. Silent. I reached into my pocket and dropped the silver bracelet into a trash can.

The debt I owed him—paid in full.

---

Everyone on the street had stopped moving. All eyes on the screens broadcasting the same event. Not just here—every functional screen in Seattle was showing Dominic Blackwood's proposal.

The image was crystal clear. Even the faint shimmer of tears in the woman's eyes was visible.

The setup had Dominic written all over it. During the final months of his recovery, he'd sketched this scene obsessively. Even the ice sculptures—he'd designed those himself.

Back then, his hand had gripped the back of my neck, fingers cold, and he'd asked what flowers I liked.

I'd said hyacinths.

But the screen showed a sea of roses. Passionate. Red. Overwhelming.

And the woman standing in the center wasn't me.

It was Vivian Cross. His ex-girlfriend.

I stood there, composed, as Dominic knelt on one knee. The diamond in the black velvet box caught the light like a star. Compared to that, the silver bracelet in my pocket—rough, poorly made, ill-fitting—was laughable.

The girls beside me were squealing.

"Dominic Blackwood, the Blackwood heir—God, he's gorgeous. They used to call him the Seattle playboy. Guess he's finally settled down."

"I heard during the two years he lost his wolf form, it was Vivian who dropped everything to take care of him. That's true love. A perfect ending."

I rubbed my wrist quietly. The grayish-brown scar was still there—left over from caring for Dominic.

Back then, Vivian had broken up with him and flown to Milan for a design fellowship.

The crowd held its breath. The proposal had reached its climax.

Vivian looked down at the man kneeling before her, voice trembling. "I do."

He slid the ring onto her finger. Stood. Kissed her.

At that exact moment, fireworks erupted over Seattle.

The spectacle wasn't just local—it was national news. But that was Dominic. When he loved someone, the whole world had to know.

The crowd roared. The girl next to me grabbed my wrist, barely containing her excitement. "They're perfect together, don't you think?"

I winced at the pressure on my scar but managed a smile. "Perfect."

She noticed my pale face and let go, embarrassed. But I'd already turned and walked away.

Behind me, the couple on the screen kissed deeply. The crowd screamed. Fireworks painted the sky.

I stopped near a trash can.

Crouched down. Steadied myself. Stood back up.

I pulled out the silver bracelet.

Ugly. Crudely carved. Didn't even fit properly.

I'd saved for months to buy it. I'd planned to give it to Dominic once he was fully recovered. Silver bracelets helped stabilize newly restored wolf forms.

But there was no point keeping it now.

I dropped it into the trash.

I felt... calm.

From this moment on, I owed the Blackwoods nothing. I owed Dominic nothing.

---

I was fired from Blackwood Enterprises.

I used to have my own office. Now I didn't even have a desk.

HR handed me a cardboard box. "Emma, your things are in here." She lowered her voice. "Dominic ordered this personally. You'll get severance. Just... go."

Her tone was gentle, but I knew what Dominic's actual words had been.

*Get her out.*

Leaning back in his chair, dismissive. Like I was nothing.

I struggled to carry the box past my old office. The door was open. It had been converted into Vivian's lounge. Design sketches scattered everywhere. Intimate photos of her and Dominic plastered over what used to be my meticulously organized schedule board.

I looked down. My knuckles went white gripping the box.

Then I let go.

It didn't matter.

---

Outside the building, I was knocked over. The box tumbled. My things spilled everywhere.

Too many people. Reporters and crowds surging toward the entrance. I was shoved aside, my hand slamming into a metal railing. The pain was sharp.

I looked up.

Vivian appeared, arm in arm with Dominic. She loved red—dark hair, red dress, impossible to miss. But Dominic was more striking. He hated crowds, visibly irritated, but still shielding Vivian carefully.

A reporter shoved a microphone in her face.

"Ms. Cross, the 'Proposal of the Century' has been trending for a week. As the leading lady, do you have anything to say?"

Vivian's smile was radiant. "I'm just grateful that during the hardest two years of his life, I was the one by his side."

Dominic Blackwood. A man who'd had everything. Who'd stood at the summit. The attack that cost him his wolf form was the only time he'd ever fallen—and the world had turned its back on him.

Anyone had more right to say those words than Vivian. She'd left on the first flight out. I was the one who stayed.

But Dominic looked pleased. He didn't correct her. He didn't even flinch.

He gazed down at her, gentle.

Camera flashes exploded. Entertainment reporters captured the moment—two lovers gazing at each other.

Then Dominic turned.

His eyes found mine through the crowd. Cold. Sharp.

I looked back at him. Smiled faintly. Felt... light.

He frowned.

I was grateful, too. Grateful that during the hardest two years of his life, I'd been the one by Dominic's side.

My debt—paid.

---

The taxi still hadn't arrived. I felt lightheaded, stomach aching. Low blood sugar. I crouched by the curb, clutching my abdomen. My injured hand was swelling, bleeding.

Vivian really was special to Dominic.

I'd known him for years. He was the Blackwood heir from childhood. Scandals followed him everywhere. But Vivian was the only woman he'd ever publicly called his girlfriend.

Getting back together made sense.

A car horn blared.

I looked up.

A black car stopped in front of me. The window rolled down. Dominic's face—lazy, indifferent. His fingers drummed the steering wheel.

"Stomach again?"

My lashes trembled.

He laughed. Cold. Mocking. "Deserved."

I looked away.

This was how he'd treated me two years ago. Before everything changed.

Back then, he'd said my kind of Omega was lucky to be alive at all.

Now I understood. The tenderness he'd shown me later—it was all an act. He was afraid that if I left, no one would take care of him.

Footsteps approached. Vivian circled around me and slid into the passenger seat, pouting. "Dominic, sorry I'm late. Those reporters wouldn't leave me alone. You shouldn't have left first—you could've helped me."

She glanced at me while buckling her seatbelt. Her voice faltered. Her face went pale.

She urged him quickly. "Dominic, we should go. We'll be late for the gala."

Dominic frowned slightly.

I looked up at him, enduring the pain. This would probably be the last time I spoke to him.

"I watched the proposal. The real thing was even better than your sketches."

Everything was perfect—except the flowers weren't hyacinths.

I added, "I hope you'll be happy together."

Dominic's expression hardened. His hand on the window frame clenched. Knuckles white. As if my blessing was an insult.

He was wearing a wedding band.

I looked away, missing the way he stared at me.

Vivian spoke softly. "Dominic, it's getting late. Don't waste time on irrelevant people."

A faint voice drifted down from above.

Dominic said, "Emma. Don't regret this."

He waited. I didn't respond.

He scoffed. Restarted the engine. Hit the gas.

I watched the car disappear.

It reminded me of the way he used to drive. Reckless. Fast.

Even a blessing from me made Dominic angry. He was impossible.

But I wouldn't regret it.