By then, the Alpha house had gone still. The fire in the front room had burned low, leaving only a faint red glow beneath the ash, and the moonstone lamps along the walls shone dimly, their pale light washed thin against the stone. The evening meal prepared for Lucian sat untouched on the table, long gone cold. His mother and aunts lingered far longer than they should have, as though their presence alone might soften the humiliation he had left behind.
But some things could not be softened.
Not when the Alpha who should have returned never did.
Before she left, Lucian’s mother took both my hands in hers. Her palms were warm, but her grip trembled. Sheena Thornfell had always been kind to me. From the first day Lucian brought me before his family, she had treated me as though my place as Luna was already decided, as though I belonged to their pack and always would.
Now there was shame in her eyes—and helplessness too.
“Do not let this sit in your heart, child,” she said quietly. “I will speak to him.”
I lowered my eyes and gave a faint nod.
After they were gone, the silence deepened.