I didn’t follow Scott.
He strode through the den with Liora at his side, laughter spilling from him like a young wolf on the night of his first hunt. His voice carried easily through the hall as he spoke into an enchanted comm-scroll, teasing her about moonlit swims and golden wine as though I weren’t crouched on the cold stone floor, my knees throbbing and my heart splintered in silence.
I rose slowly.
My joints creaked beneath the weight of thirty years of quiet obedience. My hand dragged along the floor as I steadied myself, gathering what little remained of my pride.
I stepped into the washroom and closed the door softly behind me.
The mirror showed a woman I barely recognized.
Swollen eyes. Red cheeks. Hair tangled and dull.
A shadow.
Or perhaps the ghost of a girl I had once been—before love stripped away my name and silence stole my voice.
There was no funeral. No ceremony.
Yet I mourned all the same.
Not for him.
Not even for the life we had built.
I mourned for myself—for the girl who had once been whole.
Then footsteps passed the doorway.
Scott.
He didn’t knock. Didn’t pause to see whether I still breathed.
He was still laughing, still warm and human—but only when speaking to Liora.
Then he stopped just long enough to throw the words over his shoulder like a blade.
“Pack my things. We leave at dawn. A sea voyage.”
No “please.”
No glance.
No acknowledgement that a soul had ever shared this den with him.
I nodded instinctively.
Not that he was looking.
I dried my hands on the crooked towel and crossed the hallway into his chamber.
Chaos greeted me.
Ceremonial tunics tangled with hunting leathers. Boots scattered across the floor. Wolf pelts thrown carelessly across chairs.
An Alpha living like a spoiled pup.
I began folding the garments.
Linen shirts. Dark cloaks. Travel pants.
I polished his cufflinks with the edge of my sleeve and arranged his enchanted amulets neatly beside his grooming potions.
My elbow brushed the small table beside the bed.
A leather folder slid to the floor.
Expecting trade records, I bent to retrieve it.
And froze.
Inside was a travel ledger stamped with the seal of the Luciana shipping clan.
Names written in elegant ink:
Scott Morroco.
Liora Morroco.
Kael Morroco.
Lyra Morroco.
Fenrir Morroco.
Orion Morroco.
Not a single trace of me.
No companion mark. No Luna’s name beside the Alpha.
The sea voyage I had dreamed about since I was eighteen—the one he once whispered about beneath the old oak tree at the edge of the pack territory—had never been meant for me.
Three days from now was Liora’s birthday.
He had never remembered mine.
I folded the ledger carefully and returned it to the table.
Then I packed his trunk.
Boots polished until they shone.
Clothes folded with precision.
Healing herbs and strength tonics arranged like offerings for a long journey.
The door burst open.
“Ma,” Kael called casually, stepping inside without knocking. “Pack my things too. Lyra’s busy.”
He held a mug of ale, completely at ease.
“And don’t forget the twins,” he added. “Orion needs his rune tablet. Fenrir wants the blue swim tunic. And pack some snacks—they’ll get restless during the voyage.”
Of course they would.
And so I packed.
Small tunics rolled carefully. Shirts folded. Lyra’s perfume tucked between cloth to keep the glass safe.
Travel rations sealed inside enchanted pouches.
Each item placed neatly inside their trunks.
With care.
With habit.
With the same quiet devotion that had built this household.
When I finished, I returned to my chamber and closed the door.
The silence pressed in around me.
I sat on the edge of the bed, trembling as memories rose uninvited.
I was eighteen again.
Back before Draven had become Scott.
Before the man who would one day kick me to the floor and erase my place in his life.
“Evelyn,” he had said once, gripping my hand tightly beneath the moonlight, “I swear I’ll take care of you. Always. No matter what happens.”
My heart had fluttered at his words.
“You’ll never have to worry,” he promised softly.
I had smiled, unguarded and hopeful.
“Even if the world turns against us?” I whispered.
“Especially then,” he said.
I remember another night.
The pack slept nearby while we lay beneath the silver glow of the moon, our fingers intertwined.
“I don’t care about rank or power,” he murmured fiercely. “You are my future. We’ll build a life no one can touch.”
I laughed then.
Young.
Fearless.
“You make me believe in forever.”
And he kissed me like he meant it.
Like forever had already begun.
But forever ended the day my father discovered us.
The Alpha of my birth pack stood before me like a storm given flesh.
“You cannot drag our bloodline into this disgrace,” he said coldly. “If you marry that boy, you will no longer be my daughter.”
“I love him,” I said, my voice trembling but determined.
“You love a shadow,” my father replied. “And shadows devour everything.”
Thirty years later, the boy who had sworn to protect me had vanished.
In his place stood a man who kicked me aside and prepared a voyage for another woman.
I sat there in the quiet room, watching the past crumble into dust.
And for the first time in years—
I smiled.
Not gently.
Not kindly.
Bitterly.
I walked to the corner of the room where an old communication stone rested on a small wooden stand.
No one in the house used it anymore.
I placed my palm against its surface and whispered the activation rune.
The stone glowed faintly.
A distant connection stirred.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
Then a voice answered through the crystal.
“…Hello?”
Older.
Heavier.
But unmistakably familiar.
My throat tightened.
For a moment I could not speak.
Tears slipped down my face as I gripped the glowing stone like a lifeline.
“…Father,” I whispered, my voice breaking.
“It’s me.”
“Evelyn.”
