Chapter 1: Avalanche, Wolves, and a Broken Vow

To stay by Mariah’s side—yeah, I know how that sounds—I gave up my shot at heading back to Chicago and finishing college.

That decision felt heavy as a winter coat in August. One I put on out of loyalty and longing, even with my old man’s voice rattling around in my head, warning me not to waste scholarships. Still, I couldn’t picture leaving her. Not when every breath I took seemed tangled up with hers.

She went alone, up into the Rockies to train with the old pack—her family, the shifters she’d grown up with—and that’s when she got caught in an avalanche.

Folks in town said the mountains were unforgiving. And when word got out that she was missing, you could feel the air freeze in the church basement. It was like the Rockies themselves had swallowed her whole.

Everyone thought she was gone for good. For a moment, I just stood there, numb, like I’d already lost her.

There were candlelight vigils, neighbors dropping off casseroles, and the kind of silence that only comes when hope’s running out. People started talking about her in the past tense. Like she was already a ghost walking the ridgelines.

But I drove all night—three states and then some—tore my hands raw digging. And I pulled her out from under the snow.

I can still feel the burn in my palms, the icy sting biting through my jacket. Adrenaline kept me moving when my legs wanted to quit. I remember shouting her name into the wind, refusing to believe she was gone. When I found her—half-frozen but alive—I just about dropped to my knees and thanked every saint I could name. My heart nearly burst with relief.

After that, she became my wife. I still remember the way my chest ached with hope, even as doubt crept in around the edges.

Our wedding wasn’t much—just a courthouse on Main Street, her hair still tangled from the mountains, my suit borrowed and a little too tight. But when she slipped that ring on my finger, I paused for a second, hardly believing it was real. I thought I’d finally outrun the shadow of losing her.

But when we were trapped together by a pack of wild wolves in the backcountry—

—moonlight glittering on the snow, our breaths coming out in sharp, scared clouds. The world shrunk down to just us and the howling outside.

She didn’t hesitate. She threw herself into the arms of Ethan—her true mate, the one she called her moon. I saw it all.

The way she moved, it was instinct. Like she’d been waiting her whole life for him to show up. I watched her choose, and it stung sharper than the cold.

"Ethan, if I get to spend my whole life with you—even die beside you someday—that'd be a blessing."

Her voice shook, but there was a faith in it I’d never seen before. She looked at him like he was the answer to every prayer she’d ever whispered.

The wolves’ heavy breathing drew closer. My own heart thudded in my chest, my skin prickling as the danger pressed in.

Snow crunched under their paws, their eyes catching the moonlight. You could feel them circling. It felt like the world was holding its breath, waiting for someone to make a move.

All I could do was smile, bitter and hollow.

It was the kind of smile you give when the punchline’s on you. I felt hollowed out. Like the mountains had scooped something out of my chest—and left me with nothing but wind and regret.

No resentment, no blame.

I wanted to hate them, I really did. But watching Mariah’s face, I just couldn’t. Some part of me understood—maybe always had—that you can’t force someone’s heart, no matter how many times you pull them out of the fire.

I asked Mariah:

"If I’d been the one to meet you first, would you have loved me?"

My voice was quiet, barely more than a whisper. I already knew the answer. But I needed to hear it all the same. Needed her honesty, even if it cut deep.

Mariah didn’t answer. Instead, she squeezed Ethan’s hand tighter, her knuckles white, her eyes shining with something I couldn’t reach.

That silence was louder than any shout. She held onto him like he was the only solid thing in a world that could crumble at any second.

Knowing what her silence meant, I calmly strapped the last bit of dynamite to my chest.

I remember the cold weight of it, my hands didn’t even shake. There was a strange calm that settled over me—like I was finally letting go of something I’d gripped too tight for too long.

Turning, I charged into the wolf pack. My boots bit into the snow, and for a heartbeat, everything felt sharper and more real than ever.

I could hear the wind rushing past my ears, the wolves scattering, the shock in Mariah’s voice. She called my name, but I didn’t look back.

If that's how it is, I wish you both a lifetime of peace and happiness.

It wasn’t a curse, just a simple blessing. I meant it. I really did. I closed my eyes—then everything went white.