Chapter 2 Just a Ghost

That passionate touch didn't go unnoticed.

"I'll stay back a moment. I dropped a plate-just need to clean this mess," he said, his smooth voice brushing against my nerves like velvet against skin.

Talia glanced down for the first time, only then spotting the shattered porcelain scattered around Ronan's boots.

She gasped quietly, her instincts pushing her forward to help.

But Ronan gave a quiet shake of his head and assured her he'd handle it alone.

With a hesitant nod, she accepted, though it was clear it took effort.

She grabbed my wrist and gently pulled me out of the kitchen.

Even as I turned away, I could feel the weight of his gaze on my back-heavy, unrelenting.

A surge of jealousy twisted in my chest like thorns. It was irrational, I knew that. Talia didn't deserve the blame.

She hadn't known Ronan was fated to me. She didn't go after him maliciously, nor did she do anything to deserve my resentment.

They were close long before he ever laid eyes on me. There was something real between them-bond or no bond.

It was just a crush, I tried to convince myself.

She'd forget about him once she found her true mate. Right?

But knowing that didn't stop the ache in my chest. Didn't undo the feeling of being second best.

Talia had always come first.

I was just an afterthought.

That realization stung, and the bitterness curdled into quiet anger.

Why did I have to share the only person the Moon Goddess had chosen just for me?

My sister had always been the center of attention in our home. I once told myself it was the younger-sibling syndrome.

But deep down, I knew better. Our parents adored her-not cruelly, not overtly-but with a kind of favoritism that didn't need to be spoken.

Talia was everything I wasn't.

She was charming where I stumbled. Effortlessly magnetic while I stayed to the edges.

Her beauty was bold, where mine was quiet. People surrounded her. Protected her. Cherished her.

She was the one they whispered about being future Luna, the one everyone watched with stars in their eyes.

I was just "the Luna's older daughter."

She was Talia-the beloved.

And I was Kaia.

And still, I loved who I was.

We grew up in the same home, same blood in our veins, but we walked different paths. I never envied hers before.

I respected her-admired her, even. She had always been kind to me, whether or not the world noticed.

She didn't ask to be admired. She just was. It came naturally to her. She wasn't arrogant. She wasn't trying to compete.

It made hating her impossible.

In fact, in many ways, I looked up to her. It sounded ridiculous, being the elder sister, but I truly did.

She was the version of strength and grace I never managed to master.

She was one of a kind-just as I was.

She was radiant-just as I was.

All I needed was someone to see it.

Someone the Moon had chosen.

That was meant to be Ronan.

But for the first time, jealousy shadowed my admiration.

I envied her closeness to him. Envied the memories they had carved together, the ones they were still making, the ones that would never fade.

I'd never been picked on, never ridiculed or cast aside, but sometimes I wondered if I might've preferred that.

At least then, I'd have felt something from the pack-even if it was disdain.

Instead, I was neither loved nor hated. Just... there.

Unseen. Unspoken.

A ghost among my own people.

I glanced over my shoulder, a quiet flush rising to my cheeks.

And there he was-Ronan. Still crouched on the kitchen floor, frozen mid-motion, his hands suspended over the glass shards.

His gaze met mine. Steady. Searching. My heart thudded as time seemed to slow.

Only a few seconds passed before Talia tugged again, pulling me away toward the common area.

The room was cozy, its center dominated by a mounted flatscreen TV and three oversized couches arranged around it.

One of the armchairs was already occupied.

"There you are, Kaia," my father called out, raising an amused brow.

"Was starting to think you'd barricaded yourself in your room. Even on your birthday."

He laughed as if we were close.

We weren't.

I forced a polite smile and took the seat opposite him. Our relationship had always been indifferent.

So long as I didn't disrupt his precious meetings or interfere with the Duskwind council's agenda, he hardly noticed I existed.

That worked for me. I preferred solitude, especially when it meant tending to the gardens in peace.

The click of heels against tile broke my thoughts.

My mother stepped into the room, apron still tied snugly around her waist, speaking quietly to my father. I barely heard a word.

All I could focus on was the girl I left behind in the kitchen. Talia.

She hadn't said a word to me-not about him, not about us. Not about the mate bond that had suddenly pulled the ground from beneath my feet.

And then she returned.

A sparkle in her eyes and a grin stretching wide across her face.

She darted into the room, a large, navy-blue gift box in her hands, tied with a delicate red ribbon.

"This is from Ronan and me," she said, her voice soft.

I stared at her as she lowered the gift into my lap, her eyes now cast toward her black heels.

Moments later, Ronan entered the room.

I refused to look up.

I couldn't.

Because I knew if I looked at him-into those deep, wild-forest eyes-I'd crumble.

I thought he'd walk straight to Talia, maybe sit beside her on the loveseat.

But he didn't.

Instead, he leaned silently against the doorway of the common room.

His arms folded across his chest, the tight sleeves straining against the curve of his biceps.

The quiet power in his stance made my pulse quicken. It felt like a punishment-his silence, his stare, his everything.

The box sat heavy in my lap, like a stone. I didn't know whether to open it or throw it. Everyone's eyes were on me now.

And I still couldn't breathe.