“It’s time I reclaim my throne as the Alpha. Tell the council I’ll be there by sunrise,” I said firmly into the phone.
My grandmother sighed on the other end. “Are you sure about this, Evelyn? Once you step foot back in Blackthorn Territory, there’s no turning back.”
“I know,” I replied firmly, clutching the phone tighter. “It’s time.”
I hung up before she could say anything else and stared at the bedroom I’d called mine for nearly a decade. Five years of living under someone else’s roof, pretending to belong somewhere I didn’t, it was enough.
Enough pain, enough regret and enough pretending. I was finally going home to take up my rightful position.
As I turned to grab my bag from the closet, my elbow accidentally knocked over the small vase sitting on the edge of the dresser.
The sound of glass breaking made me freeze. My heart sank as I looked down at the mess. It was one of Maya's favorite vases, the one Lucas cherished most.
“Oh no,” I whispered, quickly bending down to pick up the pieces.
Before I could clean it all up, the door burst open, and Lucas stormed in. The man who should have been my happily-ever-after looked furious.
“What happened?” he demanded, his sharp gaze darting between me and the broken vase.
“I—I didn’t mean to. It was an accident.” I tried to gather the shards.
Lucas’s eyes narrowed, and he took a threatening step closer. “You dropped her vase. Again.”
“No, I—” I started, but he cut me off.
“Always doing this, aren’t you? Destroying everything that reminds me of her,” he snapped.
A lump formed in my throat, but I swallowed it down. This wasn’t the first time we’d fought over something like this, nor would it be the last. Maya, Lucas’s late fiancée, the woman I could never replace had died five years ago in a car accident.
But to Lucas, it felt like yesterday. To him, I was nothing more than the temporary substitute, the one who kept his bed warm while he mourned.
He found me shortly after Maya's death and promised me a future, claiming he loved me just as much as he had loved Maya.
Yet, for five long years, he never once proposed. Every mention of marriage was brushed aside with excuses about timing or responsibility.
“I’m sorry, Lucas. It was an accident!” I pleaded, trying to pull my wrist free as he grabbed me.
He yanked me closer, his grip tightening painfully. “Accident or not, you’ll pay for this!”
Before I could respond, his hand slipped slightly, and I stumbled backward, crashing into the dresser. Pain shot through my side as my hip hit the sharp corner. I gasped, clutching my ribs as I sank to the floor.
“Well?” he said coldly. “What are you waiting for? Clean it up.”
“But I’m hurt,” I whispered, tears welling up in my eyes.
He scoffed. “Serves you right. Next time, you’ll think twice before breaking something important to me.”
Without another word, he stormed out of the room, leaving me alone with the mess he’d made. Again.
Later that evening, I stood in front of the mirror, applying ointment to the angry red marks on my arm. The burn wasn’t severe, but it worsened with every movement.
The door opened, and Lucas stepped inside. He walked over and gently took the ointment from my hand.
“Let me,” he murmured, his fingers brushing against mine.
I hesitated, unsure whether to pull away or let him continue. In the end, I stayed still, watching as he carefully applied the soothing cream to my injury.
His touch was tender and loving, but it only made me angrier. How could he act like nothing had happened? Like throwing me in the middle of a broken vase was just another minor disagreement?
“You need to stop doing this,” I said softly, breaking the silence.
“Doing what?” he asked.
“This.” I gestured between us. “Acting like everything’s fine when it’s not. Like I’m some kind of placeholder until you’re ready to move on.”
Lucas stiffened, his hands pausing mid-motion. “That’s not fair, Evelyn. You know I care about you.”
“But you don’t love me. Not the way I deserve to be loved. Not the way Maya deserved to be loved,” I shot back.
His face darkened, and for a second, I thought he might lash out again. But instead, he dropped the ointment and stepped back, putting distance between us.
“We need to talk,” he said.
Before I could respond, my phone buzzed loudly on the nightstand, pulling both of our attention to it.
“Who’s texting you this late?” Lucas asked, frowning as he reached for the device before I could stop him.
“Wait—don’t!” I stammered, moving forward, but it was too late.
His eyes scanned the screen, and his face darkened instantly.
“What’s this?” he demanded, holding the phone up so I could see the message.
It was from my grandmother: I can’t wait for you to pack. See you soon, sweetheart.
Lucas’s jaw tightened as he looked at me with betrayal flashing in his eyes. “What the fuck is this, Evelyn? Who sent this?” he growled.
“My grandmom,” I said quietly.
“So you’re leaving. After all this time, you’re just going to walk away?” His voice was icy cold.
“Yes, Lucas. I’m done being a substitute. By sunrise, I’m leaving for good.”
