The pack house hummed with energy, laughter, and the constant rhythm of footsteps as more guests arrived each passing day. The air was thick with the mingling scents of neighboring packs, the corridors alive with greetings and voices offering congratulations to Michael and Kathy. For the visitors, this was a joyous occasion, an honor to witness the binding of the Silverblade Pack’s future Alpha and Luna.
For Elaine, it was a cage.
Every new arrival, every burst of laughter, every word of congratulations felt like another bar locking her inside a prison she could not escape.
She moved quietly through the gathering halls, her notepad in hand, writing down schedules and relaying messages. She served wine, adjusted seating arrangements, and managed the constant stream of requests with practiced precision. To the visiting Alphas and Lunas, she was no one of importance—merely a helpful face, a quiet presence ensuring everything ran smoothly.
And that was exactly what she wanted them to see.
Her smile was measured, polite, but never warm. Her words were efficient, clipped, but never rude. Her bow was respectful, but her eyes never lingered long enough to invite conversation. To the outside world, she was a shadow, a silent cog in the grand machinery of the ceremony preparations.
But inside, she was breaking.
Later that evening, as the pack leaders mingled in the grand hall, Elaine kept herself stationed near the far wall. She moved gracefully between tables, refilling goblets and scribbling notes as guests spoke to her.
The laughter and music swelled around her, mocking her with their cheer. She felt it press against her chest, squeezing the air from her lungs until her breath came shallow and controlled.
And yet, she never faltered. She kept moving, one task after another, as if her survival depended on it.
The feast stretched deep into the night. The long tables glowed beneath the flicker of candlelight, the great hall echoing with the sound of voices and goblets clinking in celebration. Visiting Alphas and Lunas leaned close together, sharing stories of their packs, strengthening alliances over food and drink. Every so often, their gazes would shift toward the honored pair—Michael and Kathy—and their smiles would widen with approval.
Elaine caught those looks, too. She saw the way Michael sat tall and proud beside her sister, his hand resting casually on Kathy’s arm. She saw how Kathy’s cheeks flushed prettily when another Luna praised her, how Michael’s lips curved into a proud smile when he introduced her.
Each time Elaine passed their table, her chest constricted, a physical ache blooming just beneath her ribs. But her face remained serene, her expression void of everything she truly felt.
She would not let them see.
And no one noticed.
No one saw the way her hands trembled briefly when she turned away. No one felt the jagged edge of her wolf’s howl inside her chest. No one cared enough to look past the mask.
When at last the feast ended and the final guest was escorted to their quarters, Elaine lingered behind.
Her steps were slow but steady as she moved from table to table, gathering goblets and half-empty plates. Her hands folded linens with practiced care, each motion mechanical, as though she were made of clockwork. The exhaustion tugging at her body was not from the long night of work but from the constant effort of holding herself together.
As she turned with a tray in her arms, her eyes flickered toward the far end of the hall.
Michael was still there.
The future Alpha stood near the head table, his arm loosely around Kathy’s shoulders as he spoke in low tones. But his eyes—his eyes were not on his mate.
They were on Elaine.
Even across the wide hall, she felt the weight of his gaze trailing her every step.
Her heart stuttered, caught between a wild flutter of longing and the sharp sting of betrayal. For one dangerous second, she almost faltered, almost let herself believe there was something in his eyes that wasn’t pride for Kathy, but regret—for her.
But Elaine crushed the thought before it could take root.
She tightened her hold on the tray, straightened her shoulders, and walked steadily toward the door. She did not look back. She could not.
She had no room for hope.
Not anymore
By the time she reached the exit, her lungs burned from holding back the sob clawing its way up her throat. The moment the door shut behind her, she ran.
Her feet carried her down the familiar path through the forest, leaves crunching beneath her boots, branches clawing at her arms as though trying to hold her back. But nothing could stop her from reaching the only place where she could breathe—the waterfall.
The roar of crashing water reached her ears before the clearing opened. The sound was a balm, a shield that drowned out the echoes of cruel words and false smiles.
She stumbled to her knees on the damp earth, her body finally betraying the strength she had tried to hold. The sob tore free from her chest, raw and unrestrained.
Her wolf howled inside her, the sound vibrating in her bones, mournful and furious. 'This is not right. This is not what the Goddess wanted for us.'
Elaine pressed her palms into the ground, tears spilling freely.
“I know,” she whispered brokenly. “I know, but what choice do we have? They’ve taken everything from us.”
Her wolf snarled, restless, aching to fight, to tear apart the injustice. But Elaine had no fight left in her. Not now. Not when every day felt like bleeding slowly from a wound that refused to close.
The water thundered before her, merciless, constant, as if mocking her smallness in the face of fate. For a long time, she let herself break, let the sobs wrack her body until she could barely breathe.
Elaine fell asleep from exhaustion, from the whole day of pretending, and from the constant pain of seeing her mate with another.
And then—
A twig snapped behind her.
Aksara