Badboy

Soul Mate

Enemies To Lovers

Campus

Childhood Sweetheart

Unattainable Love

Exhilarating Story

Playboy

Cheat

rejected

contemporary

Student

Female lead

True Love

Counterattack

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

At our graduation party, my boyfriend kissed his “soulmate” in front of everyone and told me it was “just for the game.”
On Valentine’s Day, he brought out the “signature curry” he’d learned to cook for me—
and fed it to her, tossing me a casual, “Don’t overthink it.”
Every eye in the room turned to me, waiting for the hysterical meltdown.
I just smiled and nodded.
Because no one knew that a month earlier, I’d already decided to cut every connection to him
and accepted a transfer to Buenos Aires.
This blurry little game of his?
He can keep playing it—just not with me.
……
……
It was Alfred’s lab graduation party—the kind where the music is too loud, the drinks are too sweet, and everyone pretends the last six years of sleep deprivation were “the best time of our lives.”
Alfred was the center of gravity either way.
He was the star of the group. Everyone in Dr. Hart’s lab revolved around him.
And Wanda—his junior, his “soul partner,” the one the lab called his other half—wore the exact same white chiffon dress I had on.
Identical.
Not “coincidental,” not “similar.” Identical.
She smiled at me across the room like we were friends.
Like she hadn’t done it on purpose.
Someone—Bell, always desperate to keep things fun—climbed onto a chair and raised his glass.
He clapped his hands and announced a game.
“Okay! Tradition time!” he shouted. “Blindfold challenge. Pack-style. Old-school pack style. Find your wife, by scent!”
Laughter popped like fireworks.
Humans laughed loudest. Wolves laughed tighter.
Because wolves knew: “scent games” were cute until they weren’t.
Laughter exploded. People who weren’t wolves laughed the loudest, because they didn’t understand what it meant when we used the word “pack” like a joke.
Alfred took the scarf like it was nothing. Like this was harmless.
They tied it around his eyes.
And the second the room quieted, I felt it—
Alfred’s wolf stirred under his skin—subtle, but I felt it. We’d been together long enough that his shifts registered in my bones.
His houlders settling. Jaw tightening. Breath deepening as scent takes over.
I stood still, hands folded, smiling like a good girlfriend. Like a woman who didn’t know how a bond could be mistaken for a signal.
“Go on,” Bell urged. “Follow your instincts!”
Alfred walked forward.
No searching. No wandering.
Straight toward Wanda.
He grabbed her waist. Pulled her in like he’d done it a thousand times. 
And kissed her like the party—
Like I—didn’t exist.
The room went dead.
Shock has a sound: it’s the absence of everything else.
People stared at me, waiting for the explosion. Waiting for the jealous girlfriend to finally snap.Waiting for the girlfriend to become a headline.
Instead, I started clapping.
Slow at first.
Then louder.
And I stepped onto the little stage near the speakers—where someone had set up a playlist for the night—and queued a song I’d saved years ago, a dreamy, nostalgic track about loving someone you can’t have.
The first notes spilled out sweet and cruel.
I still love you… I still want to find your heart… through the fog, I reach for your voice…
Alfred and Wanda kept kissing.
A kiss that claimed space. A kiss that made the room forget how to breathe.
Like they were hypnotized.
Someone muttered, “Oh my God.”
Bell’s grin died. He looked like he wanted the floor to swallow him. He covered his eyes and awkwardly slapped Alfred on the shoulder, as if that would rewind time.
Alfred ripped off the blindfold. His cheeks were flushed—not from alcohol, but from adrenaline.
Then panic hit him.
His eyes snapped to me.
“Lesley—” he blurted, “I thought— I was walking toward you.”
He didn’t even let me ask.
“It was a mistake,” he said fast. “A stupid mistake.”
Wanda swayed slightly, tipsy, but she leaned into him anyway—pressed to his chest like she belonged there. Her gaze slid to me, sweet and sharp at the same time.
Someone else jumped in to rescue him.
“This is Bell’s fault,” a guy said. “He should drink three shots as punishment and apologize to Lesley.”
Bell stumbled over with a drink, babbling apologies, but I didn’t even look at him.
People stepped back instinctively.
They could feel it, too—the tension in the air when a wolf’s mate stands in a room where her place is challenged.
“Wow,” But I just said, bright and light, like someone just done being hurt. 
“Wanda can barely stand. Why don’t you two get a private room and keep going?”
The words landed like a slap.
Alfred’s face darkened.
“I said it was a mistake,” he snapped. “Don’t be like this.”
Wanda finally straightened, putting on her best innocent smile.
“Lesley,” she said softly. “Come on. It’s just a boring joke. Alfred and I were respecting the game. ”
Her smile sweet as poison,“You can’t seriously hold onto something like this, right?Don’t ruin tonight. It was just instinct.”
The room exhaled in relief at the word instinct. It made everything feel less immoral.
Alfred visibly relaxed when I didn’t argue.
If this had happened a year ago, I would’ve cried. I would’ve ripped off my composure in front of everyone and demanded he defend me. I would’ve fought for the scraps of dignity they were stepping on.
But I didn’t.
“Yeah,” Alfred said quickly, seizing the opening. “Lesley, Wanda and I were just playing. There’s nothing.”
He reached for my hand.
I moved away.
For a second, he looked like he didn’t recognize me.
We’d known each other since we were kids. We’d been together for years. I never made him lose face in public.
Then his face pinched—confused, offended—like my distance was the real betrayal.
“Don’t worry,” I said, smiling. “You two look great together.”
Then I tilted my head.
“Why don’t you try it for real?”
That was the moment his wolf roared—not out loud, but I heard it anyway, deep in the bones of the room.
And Alfred grabbed my wrist.

On the ride back, I barely spoke.At the apartment, I finally asked.“You’re applying for a European exchange?”“It’s not definite,” Alfred said, kneeling to rub my shin when I’d bumped it on the shoe cabinet. “Even if it happens, it’s next semester. One year.”“One year,” he repeated, calm. “We survived four years long-distance. We can survive this.”He said it like we’d suffered equally.Like I didn’t still have receipts of every train ticket, every hotel, every “I’ll come next time” from him.Like he hadn’t spent those same years preparing for IELTS, researching Zürich rent prices, building a life that never once included my input.I laughed, and it sounded wrong.“You’re planning to go with Wanda,” I said. “Why do you think I’ll wait for you?”Alfred’s brows knit.“Lesley,” he said, voice sharpening, “she’s just a girl. I don’t understand why you’re always hostile to Wanda.”“Just a girl,” I repeated.He kept going, righteous.“This is a career opportunity. We’re ambitious. I don’t know what fantasies you’re inventing.”Then, colder:“You used to be fun. You used to be confident. You helped other girls pass me love letters in high school. Why are you suddenly so paranoid, so irrational, so… exhausting?”Something in me snapped—cleanly, quietly.“Friend and girlfriend aren’t the same,” I said, voice rising. “You don’t get to blur the line and call me crazy for noticing.”Alfred stared at me like I’d failed a logic test.Then he said quietly, voice turned clinical.“Maybe we’re better as friends.”That was it.A cliff.A breakup delivered like a scheduling update.

I Don't Fight for Crumbs Alpha

Chapter 4