Chapter 3 No.3

Elara POV:

The next ten days were a blur of grueling labor and quiet endurance. My status as a "criminal wolf" and my physical disability meant I was assigned the most strenuous tasks in the pack kitchen. I scrubbed massive cauldrons, hauled heavy sacks of grain, and peeled endless piles of vegetables, my hands raw and my back aching. But I didn't complain. Every piece of bread I earned, every bowl of thin stew I was given, was one step closer to my departure.

In the quiet moments, memories would surface, unbidden and sharp. I remembered a time, long ago, when my family had been whole. Before Seraphina. Before the prophecy that had branded me an outcast. But those memories were fleeting, like wisps of smoke. For most of my life, I had been on my own, fighting for every scrap of affection, every moment of peace, only to be met with disappointment.

One night, as I was leaving the kitchens long after the sun had set, I saw a familiar black ''horse-drawn carriage'' parked in the shadows at the edge of the woods. The ''carriage door'' opened, and Kaelen stepped out.

My body tensed. I wanted to turn and walk away, but my feet felt rooted to the ground.

He walked towards me, his steps silent on the soft earth. In his hands, he held a small, white box. "I brought you something," he said, his voice softer than it had been in years. He opened the box to reveal a small cake, topped with a single, glistening forest berry. "To celebrate your... return."

I stared at the cake, my throat tightening. Forest berry cake had been my favorite as a child. He used to sneak pieces to me from the Alpha's table when he thought no one was looking. He was the only one who ever showed me any kindness, the only one who saw past my Omega status. He had been my light in a world of shadows.

That light had been the reason I'd done it. The reason I had thrown myself in front of him during the rogue attack all those years ago. The arrow, its tip coated in a silver-laced poison, had been meant for him. It had pierced my side, and the venom had ravaged my body, destroying the function of one of my kidneys before the healers could save me. I had almost died for him. And he had never even known.

"I also brought this," he said, pulling something from the ''carriage''. It was a dress. A beautiful gown of deep crimson, woven from shimmering moon-petal silk. It was the exact dress I had pointed to in a trader's catalogue when I was a little girl, a dress I had dreamed of wearing.

"You always said you wanted a red dress," he said, a faint, almost hopeful smile on his lips.

The bitterness rose in my throat, hot and acidic. "I don't like red," I said, my voice cold and empty. "It's a garish color. You must be mistaken."

The smile vanished from his face, replaced by a look of confusion and hurt. "Oh. I... I'm sorry. I thought..."

"It doesn't matter," I cut him off.

He recovered quickly, his Alpha composure settling back into place. "I was going to take you to Moonstone Lake," he said, his voice regaining its gentle tone. "We haven't been there in years. I thought you might like to see it."

A part of me, the stupid, hopeful part I thought had died in that dungeon, stirred. Moonstone Lake was our place. It was where we had first met, where he had promised to be my friend forever.

I found myself nodding, allowing him to lead me to the ''carriage''. The ride was silent for a few minutes, the tension a thick blanket between us.

"You're too thin, Elara," he said finally, his eyes on the road. "And your leg... does it still pain you?"

Before I could answer, he stiffened. His eyes glazed over for a second, his focus turning inward. A mind-link. An urgent one, judging by the deep furrow that appeared between his brows.

'Seraphina needs me.' The words were not spoken, but I heard them in the sudden chill that filled the ''carriage'', in the way his hands tightened on the reins.

"Turn the ''carriage'' around," he barked at the ''horseman'', his voice once again the cold, commanding tone of the Alpha. "Now!"

The ''horseman'', a pack warrior, didn't hesitate. He swung the ''carriage'' around in a tight arc, heading back towards the pack center at high speed.

Kaelen didn't look at me. He didn't offer an explanation or an apology. His entire being was focused on Seraphina, on her supposed distress. He had brought me cake and a dress, offered a glimpse of the boy I once knew, only to snatch it away the moment she called.

Just like he always did.

He had abandoned me. Again.