Lilienne
I hand the stack of documents to Melanie without even glancing at her. I'm so deeply immersed in my work that even the slightest distraction could shatter my focus—and with it, the fragile barrier keeping me from the painful reality I'm trying so hard to escape.
Melanie doesn't need instructions. She knows exactly what to do: deliver the documents personally to one of our pack alphas and return with his signature. With a curt nod, she turns and heads for the door.
But before she can even reach the handle, it slams open with such force that she leaps back in alarm, nearly colliding with my desk.
"Alpha!" she gasps, clearly shaken.
I snap my gaze away from the laptop, my eyebrows lifting as I watch my husband storm into the room. His face is flushed, his jaw clenched, and his eyes blaze with fury.
"Beta Dawn, leave the room!" he barks.
Melanie hesitates, her eyes darting between us, but I give her a subtle nod. She obeys without a word, quickly disappearing behind the door.
The moment it shuts, I can feel his wolf clawing just beneath the surface.
"I thought you didn't want anything to do with Serina," he growls, each word like a thunderclap. "So why the hell did she come sobbing out of your wing of the palace?"
I scoff, rising from my chair—I refuse to sit while he looms over me like some righteous judge. I meet his glare head-on.
"The real question," I say, voice low and razor-sharp, "is what your mistress was doing in my part of the palace to begin with."
I don't know why I feel so smug right now. I know this argument won't end well—nothing involving that woman ever does. But today, I'm done cowering. If I have to fight for what's mine, then I will. Gladly.
Kaelen, however, seems to have left his reason behind somewhere on that hunting trip, because the next words out of his mouth make me feel like I'm staring at a stranger, not the man I once knew.
"Why can't you just do as I say? Why can't you obey me like she does?"
"What?" The word falls from my lips before I even register it. Shock hits me like a physical blow, twisting my stomach into tight knots. I almost stumble.
"Obey you? I'm not your servant, Kaelen. I'm your wife. Your partner. Your queen. You may hold more authority in court, but that doesn't give you the right to order me around, especially over something that has nothing to do with me."
For the first time, something flickers across Kaelen's face—resignation, edged with disbelief. He knows I'm right, yet he can't seem to grasp that after all these years of marriage, I'm finally standing my ground. And doing it without so much as a tremble in my voice.
"Ha." He lets out a dry laugh, but it's devoid of warmth. The smirk that follows is steeped in bitterness. "You've changed, Lily," he says, voice cold but eerily calm. "And not for the better."
With that, my husband turns and walks out of the study, leaving behind nothing but silence and a sudden, heavy chill that settles into my bones.
I don't know what kind of force is driving me, but my feet move on their own. Without a second thought, I shove aside all the papers on my desk and storm out of the room, ignoring the startled yelps of my maids and the concerned glances from my guards.
I don't want to talk to anyone right now. No one—except him.
I keep walking, my long silk skirt clinging to my legs, its narrow cut restricting my stride. Frustration boils over. Without thinking, I seize a handful of the delicate fabric and rip it up to mid-thigh. A sharp breath escapes my lips, followed by a sigh of relief as my legs finally move freely again.
I don't care how I look. I just need to reach my place—my sanctuary. Somewhere I can disappear from the world. Somewhere I can be still. Quiet. Hidden. Alone. Like the coward I feel I've become.
When I finally reach the familiar oak tree, my legs give out beneath me, and I collapse onto the ground. My fingers dig into the cool, damp grass, as if holding onto it will keep me from falling apart completely.
I'm unraveling again. He's the one who's wrong—he's always the one who crosses the line—yet I'm the one left feeling hollow and bruised. Why is it always me?
My spiral of self-pity is abruptly interrupted by a soft whimper at my side. A familiar scent—fresh pine, wild earth—tickles my nose, and I jolt upright, heart skipping as my gaze meets a pair of wide green eyes.
The little black wolf stares back at me, head tilted slightly, concern shimmering in his gaze.
"Hi there," I whisper, my voice shaky as my hands instinctively reach out to stroke his velvety fur. "I see you kept your word... and brought me your owner's reply."
The little wolf nods and tugs the pouch down with his teeth, nudging it toward me with a gentle push of his snout. I reach inside and sift through the folded papers, already sensing which one holds the answer I've been waiting for.
"Why do you always look so sad every time I see you?
Would you like me to teach the wolf a few tricks to make you laugh? He's not the fastest learner, but maybe that's exactly what you need right now.
Alternatively, if someone is hurting you, just give me a name. The wolf already knows how to bite on command.
P.S. His name is Pepper. Yes, like the one that makes you sneeze."
A real laugh escapes me—loud and full, bursting straight from my chest. It's the first in what feels like forever. Why do these letters always lift something inside me, like a weight I didn't even know I was carrying? It feels like I'm writing to an old friend, someone who knows me deeply, even though we've never met.
Still smiling, the little wolf leaps into my arms and licks my cheek, his warm body pressing against mine, radiating a comforting kind of heat that melts into my skin.
"Pepper, huh?" I murmur, lying back on the soft blanket of grass. I curl my legs and cradle the wolf against my chest. "How did your owner come up with a name like that for you?"
Pepper gives a small, expressive whine, and I can't help but smile again. We spend hours there beneath the shelter of the old oak, surrounded by the rustle of leaves and the gentle hum of the summer breeze.
His heartbeat thrums steadily against me, a soothing rhythm that lulls me more deeply into peace. Slowly, the tension in my body begins to unwind, loosening its grip. And without even realizing it, I drift off—finally letting go of the last threads of pain that have been clinging so tightly to my weary heart.