Liora didn’t see any reason to waste words on Marcella. Calm and deliberate, she deleted the message, blocked her number, and opened her chat with Kaelen. The last conversation they’d shared had been over a week ago, and the silence since then weighed heavily.
As she scrolled through the thread, a familiar ache settled into her chest. Message after message stretched across the screen, each one carrying her thoughts, her heart laid bare. She had told him everything—from lofty dreams of leading her own pack lands someday, to trivial musings about her meals, even the way the wind smelled on a crisp morning. Every word a thread connecting them.
Kaelen’s replies were sparse, scattered like distant echoes in a den long abandoned. When he did answer, it was always about Marcella—her moods, her whims, her every fleeting desire. Liora felt the familiar thrum of betrayal press against her ribs, sharp and insistent.
For the first time in years, she didn’t want to reply. If her words would vanish into silence, what was the point of speaking at all?
She tucked her phone into her pocket, ready to leave it at that, when Kaelen’s name flashed across the screen. He was calling.
“Where are you?” His voice carried the low growl of worry, tinged with restrained reproach. “It’s late… why aren’t you home yet?”
Tonight, he had refused Marcella’s invitation, a rare deviation from his usual routine, intending to return early and spend time with Liora. But the den was empty when he arrived. She hadn’t answered his calls, hadn’t replied to his messages—and his worry had escalated to the edge of panic.
Liora glanced at the clock. Eight PM.
He had always been a wanderer of the night, returning at odd hours or disappearing entirely until the early dawn. Liora had waited countless nights, a single lantern burning in the corner of the den, the scent of simmering soup hanging faintly in the air. And if he returned drunk, she would rise from sleep, fighting exhaustion to tend him.
But what had Kaelen ever done for her in return?
She couldn’t remember a single gesture. Her patience frayed, and the words came out sharper than she intended.
“Can’t I have a life of my own?”
It was the first time she had ever dared speak to him this way.
A tense silence followed, broken only when his voice softened.
“Liora… I’ve missed you these past few days.”
“Tomorrow’s the ceremony,” she said quietly, her tone even. “I was just worried something might happen to you. Don’t get upset. Wait for me, alright? I’m coming to get you now.”
Within minutes, Kaelen pulled up outside in his car, a bouquet of fresh flowers in hand—a gesture she did not accept. Instead, she opened the passenger door, greeted by a faint scent that made her stomach twist. Nausea rolled over her, and she grabbed a tissue, opting to climb into the back seat rather than sit in the front beside him.
Kaelen, absorbed in his glowing phone screen, didn’t notice.
“Why’d you go to the amusement park?” he asked casually, barely lifting his gaze. “Finished with the ceremony preparations?”
“Pretty much,” Liora replied, her voice soft but detached.
Tomorrow, she would leave this den—and this territory—behind for good.
Kaelen chuckled lightly, almost to himself. “I remember you always wanted to ride the Ferris wheel. I’ll take you one day, make it unforgettable. I didn’t mean to interrupt your fun today, but my mother… she wants to see you.”
“It’s fine,” Liora said. “There will be plenty of time later.”
Her lifetime of wishes would be ticked off one by one, none of them tied to him.
Once Kaelen finished his messages, he started the car, and, as if unaware of the impact, played one of Marcella’s favorite songs. Liora’s gaze drifted to the familiar streets outside, the city she had grown up in. Neon signs flickered in harmony with the starlit sky, the lights dancing like silver and gold sparks across the dark canopy.
Yet the longer she looked, the more the wind stung her eyes, leaving them raw and damp.
By the time they arrived at the old family home, the dining table was already cluttered with leftovers. The housekeeper moved between dishes, quietly clearing the remnants of the day. Laughter and conversation floated through the den as parents from both sides mingled freely. Kaelen and Marcella sat at the center, their camaraderie effortless, filling the space with warmth that no longer included Liora.
She felt like a ghost in the room. Her form flickered in Kaelen’s peripheral vision, a lone silhouette he barely registered. Yet somewhere deep in his chest, a pulse skipped—a memory surfacing, fragile and sharp.
A promise he had made long ago, one he had vowed to never break: to shield this little she-wolf from sorrow, to never let her feel abandoned. A promise now resurrected, though far too late.
