Chapter 5
I gripped the phone so tightly my knuckles went white as the line went dead. My mother’s voice, always gentle, always warm, had been a balm to me, a reminder of home. But now, as I stood in this harsh reality, her words seemed to echo in an empty cavern, underscoring just how far I’d drifted from where I belonged.
I glanced up and found Kayden and Francis watching me, arms crossed, expressions a mix of irritation and disinterest. As usual.
“My friend’s getting married,” I said, keeping my tone light, feigning indifference. I raised an eyebrow at their scrutinizing stares. “What‘ s with the looks? Want to come along?”
They exchanged glances, neither hiding their disinterest. I could already predict their response–why would they care about someone else’s happiness? They didn’t know, of course, that the ceremony I’d be
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attending wasn’t just any wedding. It was a Mateship Ceremony, my Mateship Ceremony. Arranged by my family to finally settle my unstable lycan blood by bonding me to a powerful Alpha.
But what was the point in telling them? I’d be leaving soon anyway, never looking back. I’d see my family again, become part of my own pack, where respect and support might actually mean something. Kayden‘ s and Francis‘ s indifference only cemented my decision to keep it to myself.
Kayden shrugged, dismissive. “Go if you want. We have bigger things to focus on.”
Francis, no warmer, added, “In fact,
maybe you should take some time away. Clear your head or something.” His tone. was sharp, his words intended to wound.
“But first, don’t you think you owe Sharon an apology? She’s still recovering from the injuries you caused yesterday.”
I froze, feeling a spark of irritation flare to life in my chest. Apologize? My wolf
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growled, pressing beneath my skin,
indignant. Sharon had stolen my reward, as if she had any claim to it. All I’d done was try to take back what was mine. And now they wanted me to apologize?
“Apology?” I spat, fists clenching. “For what? Sharon clung to my reward as if it were hers. I tried to take it back, and it’s somehow my fault she got hurt?”
But Francis was already walking away, ignoring my words as if they were smoke drifting past him. His silent dismissal settled around me like ice, tightening
around my heart.
When he finally disappeared down the hall, I was left standing alone, my chest tight with frustration. They didn’t care. They’d always side with Sharon, the
innocent act she wore like a delicate mask
captivating them both. It didn’t matter what I said or did–they‘ d always see her as the one worth protecting, and me as the one causing trouble. The unfairness of it
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burned, a constant reminder that I didn’t belong here.
By morning, I’d shoved the bitterness down, determined to go about my day, to ignore the gnawing frustration and focus on my routine. I walked into the common room, mentally readying myself for whatever fresh indifference the day would bring–only to stop short as I took in the scene before me.
Dozens of vases lined the room, filled with every type of flower imaginable, vibrant blossoms spilling from each one. The air was heavy with their fragrance, a thick sweetness that quickly turned sickening. I staggered, my senses assaulted by the overwhelming scent, feeling my throat started to tighten.
My chest clenched, my breaths coming shorter, shallower. No… not here, not now. Panic crept in as I realized what was happening. The pollen was making it hard. to breathe, and my wolf instincts recoiled,
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struggling against the sensation of drowning in the thick, floral air. I stumbled, clutching my chest, my vision blurring as I scanned the room for where I kept my inhaler.
“Medicine…” I choked out, barely able to speak. My hands trembled as I fumbled through the drawers, knocking over a vase in my frantic search. The shattering of glass echoed through the room, sharp and jarring.
A second later, Kayden and Francis came rushing in, but they stopped short, eyes widening as they took in the mess. Kayden’s gaze snapped to the broken vase, the flowers spilling across the floor in a scattered, colorful mess.
“What’s going on here?” he demanded, his eyes narrowing as he looked around.
Neither of them seemed to notice my gasping breaths, the way my hands. trembled as I clutched the inhaler to my
mouth, drawing in deep, desperate puffs to
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calm my tightening lungs. My chest heaved, my entire body feeling as though it were weighed down with stone, but they were too busy glaring at the spilled flowers.
Francis shot me a look of pure annoyance as he knelt, carefully picking up the scattered blooms. “Seriously, Malinda, what’s wrong with you?” he muttered, irritation lacing his words as he focused on the flowers instead of me.
The medication finally started to work, my breathing gradually slowing, the tightness in my chest easing. But my relief was quickly dampened by a sharp sting on my leg. I looked down to see blood trickling from a small cut, probably from when I’d
stumbled earlier.
They hadn’t even noticed.
Ignoring the wound, I took a shaky step back, still clutching the inhaler as I tried to regain my balance. My gaze hardened as I looked at Francis and Kayden, still engrossed in tidying up the room, treating
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the flowers with more care than they ever
showed me.
Resentment bubbled up inside me, a bitter, unrelenting ache. This was all I was to them–an inconvenience, a burden,
someone to tolerate until she could be cast aside. My injury went unnoticed, my struggle dismissed. All they saw was a mess to clean, a nuisance to silence.
I bit back a sharp retort, my fingers curling into fists. The wound on my leg throbbed, but it was nothing compared to the ache in my chest–the sting of their indifference, their utter lack of sympathy. They didn’t care that I was struggling to breathe, didn’t care that I was hurt. They didn’t
care about me at all.
In that moment, any lingering attachment I’d felt for this place, any hope for kindness or friendship, withered away. I had my answer, stark and clear. There was nothing left for me here but cold shoulders.
and hollow stares.
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the flowers with more care than they ever
showed me.
Resentment bubbled up inside me, a bitter, unrelenting ache. This was all I was to them–an inconvenience, a burden,
someone to tolerate until she could be cast aside. My injury went unnoticed, my struggle dismissed. All they saw was a mess to clean, a nuisance to silence.
I bit back a sharp retort, my fingers curling into fists. The wound on my leg throbbed, but it was nothing compared to the ache in my chest–the sting of their indifference, their utter lack of sympathy. They didn’t care that I was struggling to breathe, didn’t care that I was hurt. They didn’t care about me at all.
In that moment, any lingering attachment I’d felt for this place, any hope for kindness or friendship, withered away. I had my answer, stark and clear. There was nothing left for me here but cold shoulders
and hollow stares.
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I straightened, my resolve hardening. Soon, I’d be gone, far from their indifference, far from their icy gazes and callous words. I wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of seeing me hurt anymore. Let them keep their Sharon, their perfect little darling. I was done trying to belong here.
They might never miss me when I was gone. But someday, when they looked back, perhaps they’d realize what they‘ d
thrown away.
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