By the time the sun began to set, I had convinced myself to attend the pack gathering. I didn’t want to go not after the argument with Harlan but the weight of my responsibilities as his Chosen Mate left me with little choice. My wolf protested in my mind, “ We shouldn’t have to beg for his attention, she growled. Why do we let him treat us like this?”
But I ignored her. This was my reality. Harlan needed me by his side for the sake of the pack, even if it felt like he barely noticed I existed anymore.
I put on a simple green dress, one that Harlan had once complimented before everything between us became so strained. For a fleeting moment, I wondered if he would notice tonight if he would look at me like he used to.
When Harlan came to fetch me, he barely glanced at me. “Ready?” he asked, his eyes already on the road ahead.
I nodded silently, following him out.
The pack gathering was in full swing when we arrived. Wolves of all ranks milled about, talking, laughing, and enjoying the night. The scent of roasted meat and bonfires filled the air, mingling with the earthy smell of pine and the faint undertone of wolves in their shifted forms patrolling the perimeter.
Harlan led me through the crowd with the ease of an Alpha, his commanding presence parting the sea of pack members like it always did. But while I walked beside him, it was clear to everyone including me that I was merely a shadow at his side.
Lila was already there, waiting for us near the central fire. She was dressed in a flowing red dress that clung to her every curve, her hair styled to perfection. As soon as she saw Harlan, her face lit up, and she hurried toward him like he was the only person in the world.
“Harlan,” she purred, “I was wondering when you’d get here.”
He smiled at her, a warm, genuine smile that I hadn’t seen directed at me in longer than I cared to admit.
Lila stayed glued to him the entire evening, her hand casually resting on his arm, her laughter ringing out whenever he said something. And he let her. No, he encouraged her, leaning down to whisper in her ear, brushing a strand of hair from her face, giving her all the attention I craved but never received.
The pack members noticed. Of course, they did. Their eyes flickered between me and Lila, their expressions a mix of pity and judgment. Some whispered to each other, their words too low for me to hear but loud enough to sting. Others avoided my gaze entirely, as if my humiliation was too uncomfortable for them to witness.
I stood there, silent, smiling when it was expected, nodding when someone addressed me. But inside, I was crumbling. My wolf howled in frustration. This isn’t right, she growled. This isn’t how it’s supposed to be.
I stood in a corner near the refreshments table, nursing a cocktail in my hand. It was fruity, sweet, and far too weak to drown out the ache in my chest as I watched Harlan and Lila across the firepit.
I took another sip of my drink, trying to focus on the sharp tang of citrus instead of the sharp pang in my chest. But no amount of sweet cocktails could make this scene any easier to endure. After downing four drinks, finally Harlan acknowledged me.
“Why are you hiding over here?” He asked me, and I turned to see Harlan standing behind me, his arms crossed and his brow furrowed.
“I’m not hiding,” I said quickly, setting my glass down with more force than necessary.
He raised an eyebrow, his gaze sweeping over me like he didn’t believe a word I said. “You’ve been standing here all night, Anya. What’s going on?”
“What’s going on,” I repeated, as I gestured toward Lila, “is that you seem to be having a wonderful evening without me. I’m just enjoying the show.”
He stepped closer to me, “Don’t start this here, Anya. You’re overreacting.”
“Overreacting?” I hissed, “You’ve spent the entire night glued to her side, Harlan. You didn’t even notice I was here until now!”
He exhaled sharply, “She’s family. You know that.”
“Family doesn’t cling to you like a lovesick pup,” I snapped.
For a moment, I thought he was going to argue back, but instead, he straightened and glanced around. “We’re not doing this here,” he said.
“Fine,” I shot back. “Let’s not do it at all.”
I grabbed another cocktail from the table and turned away, pretending not to notice the curious glances of the pack members nearby. But even as I walked away, I could feel his eyes on me, heavy.
The ride home was silent, the tension between us so thick it was suffocating. Harlan drove with his hands gripping the steering wheel tightly, his golden eyes fixed on the road ahead. I stared out the window, the night blurring past as I tried to collect my thoughts.
As soon as we stepped into the house, I couldn’t hold it in any longer.
“Harlan,” I said.
He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Anya, not now…?”
“No,” I cut him off. “We’re talking about this now.”
He turned to face me, but he didn’t interrupt.
“What are we even doing anymore?” I asked, “Do you even see me, Harlan? Because tonight, it felt like I didn’t exist to you. Like I never do when Lila’s around.”
He groaned, rubbing his temples like I was giving him a headache. “Anya, you’re being ridiculous. Lila’s been through a lot…”
“I know that!” I shouted. “I know she’s grieving, and I know you feel responsible for her. But does that mean I have to stand there and watch you treat her like she’s the one who matters most to you? Like she’s your mate?”
“She’s family, Anya. And I’m trying to keep this pack together. You need to stop taking everything so personally.”
“How can I not?” I shot back, “Do you have any idea what it’s like to stand there and watch everyone pity me? To see the way they look at me like I’m nothing but an afterthought to you?”
“You keep saying she’s family,” I continued, “But what about me, Harlan? What am I to you?”
He didn’t answer right away, and the silence felt like a slap in the face. When he finally spoke,
“You’re my mate,” he said, but there was no warmth in his tone, no conviction.
I laughed bitterly, wiping at the tears that had started to fall. “You don’t act like it.”
“You need to stop letting it bother you.”
“What if I can’t?” I asked him.
“Anya,” he began, “Do you ever stop to think about what you caused?
