It had been days since that last ugly scene. I kept myself busy.

The party Carmela demanded had to be flawless, and that became my excuse for everything. If I didn't think, I couldn't feel. If I didn't feel, I wouldn't fall apart.

But the pressure came at me like a storm. The staff followed me around with endless questions, decorators called me at odd hours about colors and flowers, the planners wanted confirmation on things I didn't even remember agreeing to. My head never stopped pounding.

And Calhoun.when he did call.it wasn't to check on me. No. It was only to remind me of what Carmela wanted. How spectacular she expected her event to be.

By the time the four days bled into each other, I couldn't even remember what I ate or if I slept. All I knew was the migraine drilling into my skull as I dragged myself into the venue. My legs felt like sandbags, my chest tight, but I forced myself to keep moving. The party was set for 8pm sharp, and if nothing else, it had to be perfect.

This is my final duty as Calhoun's Gamma. When all is said and done, I'll walk away with a clean conscience.

The lights dazzled, chandeliers dripping like golden waterfalls, music humming softly to welcome the elites that began to fill the hall. And then, as though she'd been waiting for the perfect moment, Carmela arrived.

I don't think I'd ever seen a dress like that before. Midnight blue silk that clung to her figure as though it had been poured on her body, crystals embroidered along the bodice, catching every shard of light in the hall. The gown pooled at her feet in a sweeping train, the kind only seen on red carpets. Her hair was slicked back, diamonds dripping from her ears, her chin tilted with that practiced arrogance. She didn't just walk in-she sashayed-her heels clicking like an anthem meant to remind the world she was the center of it. And, of course, the guests swarmed her with their praises.

"She looks breathtaking," someone whispered nearby.

"That gown alone must have cost tens of thousands," another added.

"Well, Carmela is Calhoun's weakness, isn't she? Look at this.look at what should have been a simple welcome party, yet here we are at what feels like a gala."

"I remember in college," a man chuckled, "Calhoun wouldn't let any guy look at her twice. He beat one to a pulp just for holding her hand in a group assignment."

"Oh, yes! And the gifts-don't get me started. Carmela was showered with things that made the entire school jealous."

"She was born lucky," someone sighed. "And she still is."

Their words sank into me like knives. I stood at the far end of the hall, trying to disappear into the shadows, clutching a flute of champagne so tightly I thought the glass might shatter in my palm. My eyes stung, but I refused to let tears fall. I couldn't. Not here.

And then. tranquility slipped right out of reach.

I saw the way Carmela paused mid-laugh, as though she caught a scent in the air. Her sharp eyes darted across the hall until they landed on me. And the glint that flashed through them made my stomach twist. A glint that promised cruelty. She had found her prey.

Her heels carried her straight toward me, and with every step she took, my body stiffened. My chest rose and fell in shallow breaths. I wanted to move, to slip away, but my legs betrayed me, rooted to the floor.

"Elodie." Her voice dripped with mock sweetness as she finally stopped before me. Her lips curved, but it wasn't a smile-it was a sneer. "The decorations are decent, I suppose. The guests seem entertained. But me?" She tilted her head, her diamond earring catching the light. "I'm not pleased in the slightest."

She leaned closer, her perfume overwhelming. "And look at you, standing here like some ornament. But tell me, how fitting is it, Elodie, that you.someone so beneath this world, are dressed so plainly? Your shoes, especially. Lower, dull. Not fit for such an occasion. So here's what you'll do." Her eyes sparkled with malice. "You'll bend down-right here, right now and fix my heel straps. They're loose. Do it immediately."

The world stilled. I swear it did. Conversations cut short, music dimmed into the background of my pounding pulse, and suddenly every gaze in the hall was on us. On me. Heat rushed to my cheeks, blood boiling, shame crawling under my skin. My chest burned as Carmela's lips curled, challenging me to defy her.

I forced air into my lungs. My voice was calm when it came out, though my insides trembled. "I'm sorry, Carmela. I can't bend. My waist still aches and I'm healing slowly." My fingers tightened on the champagne flute until I thought it would shatter. "But if those shoes hurt badly, I can get your costumiers to bring you another pair. What I cannot do is bend."

The silence after that was deafening.

For a moment, Carmela just stared at me. Her face froze in disbelief, like she couldn't quite process what I'd said. It was as though the world had just tilted off its axis, and someone- me, had dared to ruin her perfect balance. I watched her eyes widen, lips parting in shock, and for a heartbeat, she looked like a spoiled child who had never been told no before.

But the shock didn't last long. It twisted, darkened, and within seconds her pretty face was flushed with rage. Her chest rose sharply as she leaned closer, her teeth gritting.

"Did you just say no to me?" she snarled, her voice slicing through the hush of the hall.

Every gaze drilled into me. My heart thundered, but I forced myself not to shrink. My nails bit into the champagne flute as I whispered, steady but trembling inside, "I said I'm sorry, Carmela. I cannot bend. I told you I'm healing. My waist. it still hurts."

And just when I thought the humiliation couldn't cut deeper, fate proved me wrong.

The doors swung open and Calhoun stepped in.

My chest tightened instantly. His commanding presence filled the hall. His sharp eyes scanned the room, narrowing the second he noticed the tension. In three long strides he was near, his entire focus locked on Carmela's face.

The moment she saw him, Carmela's fury melted like ice under the sun. To my shock, her eyes brimmed with tears. tears she summoned faster than I could blink. Before I could even process, she stumbled forward, collapsing into his arms, sobbing as though I'd struck her.

"Calhoun," she cried, her voice cracking beautifully, theatrically. "Please. look at how cold-hearted she has become. All I asked-" she hiccuped against his chest, her diamonds catching the light as her body trembled- "was for her to help me fix the strap of my shoes, so I wouldn't trip and embarrass you in front of all these guests. Elodie was always so perfect in small details like these. But tonight. tonight she refused me. She looked me in the eye and told me she wouldn't bend."

My throat dried. My heart dropped, sinking somewhere to the pit of my stomach.

Calhoun's eyes snapped to me, and the glare that burned from him nearly turned my blood cold. Rage. pure and murderous darkened his gaze as he pulled Carmela tighter against his side, shielding her like a treasure.

"Why would you be so cruel, Elodie?" His voice thundered, rattling me from the inside out. "Carmela is still healing, for goodness' sake. She should not be stressed in the slightest. What's so difficult about helping her with a strap? What?" His jaw flexed, fury lacing every syllable. "As far as you are my Gamma, you will do whatever Carmela asks of you. Whatever it is. If she wants her shoes tied, you bend down and tie them. Immediately. Do it now."

The final snap of his words shattered what little pride I had left.

Around us, murmurs began to swell like poison.

"She's just a Gamma. What right does she have to refuse an Alpha's daughter?"

"Ungrateful thing, standing there as if she belongs in their class."

"How dare she make Carmela lower herself to ask twice?"

"She's nothing compared to Carmela. And yet she acts up?"

"No wonder Alpha Calhoun looks furious, imagine embarrassing him like this in public!"

Every word stung. Each whisper of theirs sliced deeper than the last, tearing at what little strength I clung to. My chest burned, my eyes reddened as I blinked back tears that wouldn't stop stinging.

And then I saw Carmela peeking from the safety of Calhoun's arms, her lips curling into a wicked, satisfied smirk. She wanted this. She had planned it. And she was winning.

Calhoun's growl rumbled, silencing even the whispers. His gaze cut back to me. "I don't want to repeat myself, Elodie."

The final nail drove into me. My shoulders sagged, every muscle of mine screaming in shame, in defeat. My lips trembled as I forced myself to speak. "Yes, Alpha."

The words tasted like blood in my mouth.

Slowly, painfully, I crouched. My waist seared in protest, sending sparks of agony through my body.

My hands shook so badly I could barely find the tiny buckle on Carmela's heel strap. I tried to steady them, tried to swallow the lump in my throat, but it was useless. Two hot tears slipped down my cheeks, falling to the ground.

And just as I reached forward, pain shot through me.

I screamed. Carmela had stomped her stiletto heel onto my fingers, pinning them down. Gasps tore through the hall. My cry echoed against the high ceiling as agony spread like fire through my hand. I whimpered, curling in on myself, clutching my throbbing fingers to my chest.

"Elodie!" Calhoun's voice snapped, alarm flashing across his face. He moved instinctively, but before he could reach me, Carmela collapsed into his arms, her fake tears pouring like a performance she had rehearsed her whole life.

"Oh, Calhoun!" she sobbed, pressing her face into his chest. "I didn't mean to.honestly, it was an accident. My heel slipped. If Elodie feels wronged, I can always go down on my knees and beg for her forgiveness."

Those words knocked my breath from me. I sobbed quietly, clutching my bleeding fingers. Pain twisted every nerve, coldness creeping into my body as though my soul were draining out of me. My knees shook.

But instead of defending me, Calhoun exhaled heavily, his face hardening as he stroked Carmela's hair. "Never mind, Carmela. It was a mistake. I'm sure Elodie understands."

His words hollowed me out. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't think. It felt like something inside me had shattered beyond repair. Was this what breaking truly felt like? I wondered if I would ever be whole again after what he had done to me. Tears blurred my vision as Carmela peeked out from his chest, her lips curling into a wicked smirk only I could see.

I stumbled into the restroom.

The door slammed behind me, and I slid down the cold tiles, clutching my chest as the sob tore out of me.

My phone buzzed in my palm. A message from Calhoun.

"Where are you? Come over here immediately."

For a second, I wanted to type back: I went home. I feel unwell. But fear coiled around my throat tighter than the collar had. What if he cut my wages? What if I lost everything? I swallowed the scream lodged in my chest and turned toward the hall.

When I stepped in, all eyes shifted to me. A chill swept down my spine. The crowd parted, and there was Carmela on her feet, mascara streaking her face, sobbing dramatically. Her finger jabbed at me.

"Where is my golden bracelet cuff?!" she screamed. "My dead grandmother gave it to me! It's worth millions, it's an heirloom!"

Shock froze me in place. Then anger stirred, trembling through my veins. My voice came careful, shaking. "I didn't take anything."

"Liar!" she shrieked. "It fell when you bent to tie my straps! Gammas like you are thieves!"

Something inside me snapped. My vision went red, humiliation and rage crashing together, but before I could speak, Calhoun finally stepped in. His voice was calm.

"Carmela. Stop it. It must have fallen. I'll have the guards search for it."

Carmela's head whipped toward him, eyes blazing. "Calhoun, what are you saying? That I'm lying? If you won't search her, then we are done! You're prioritizing her over me, your true mate! I won't have it!"

My breath hitched. She turned to storm off, but his hand caught her arm, pulling her back gently. His gaze slid past me, cold, detached, and he signaled to the guards.

"Search Miss Elodie."

The floor tilted beneath me. "What?" The word cracked out of me as I stumbled back, but three guards closed in, massive hands gripping my arms, forcing me to my knees.

"Please!" I screamed, thrashing. "Alpha Calhoun, I swear.I didn't take anything! I'm not a thief! I'm not-" My cries tore into the air, sharp with pain as they yanked my arms behind me.

He looked away. He couldn't even watch. And Carmela.her lips curled with triumph.

My dress ripped under their hands. Rough fingers groped, searching, dragging me. When they found nothing, they shoved me down. I collapsed on the floor, clutching the torn fabric to my chest, sobbing as my bra peeked through the ruined cloth.

One guard muttered, "We found nothing."

Carmela sneered. "Maybe she hid it in her underwear. She's a thief!"

My blood iced. A guard's hand reached for my waist, ready to strip me bare-

"Enough!" Calhoun's voice rang out, panic flashing across his features. But before his order fully landed, another voice pierced the air.

"Found it!"

Everyone turned. A woman stood near a table, holding the golden bracelet high. "It was under here! A few tables away!"

Gasps swept the hall. My sobs filled the silence. The guards released me, stepping back. Carmela's eyes widened, then quickly softened as she ran to Calhoun, burying her face against his chest.

"Oh my goodness," she whimpered. "I.I made a mistake. Elodie. she didn't deserve that. Can I apologize?"

But I didn't lift my head. I stayed on the ground, clutching my torn dress, my shoulders shaking with every broken cry.

Calhoun's hand closed around Carmela's as he began to lead her out. His voice was flat, final.

"No need. That little humiliation won't end her life. She's fine."

ELODIE'S POV~

"That little humiliation won't end her life. She's okay."

Those words wouldn't leave my head. Calhoun's voice.so calm, so certain kept ringing ceaselessly in my ears. Not Carmela's cruel laughter.

Not the gasps or the whispers of the guests. Just him. Over and over, like a knife twisting in my chest.

My tears wouldn't stop, falling freely down my cheeks as I clutched the shredded remains of my dress to my chest, trying in vain to cover what had been ripped away from me.

The crowd that had gathered to witness my humiliation began to disperse slowly. I tried to stand, my knees wobbling, my body weak and trembling.

And then a jacket landed squarely on my face. Blinking through my tears, I looked up to see the waiter who had carried Carmela's silver tray toss it toward me and walk away without a word.

No apology. No acknowledgment. Nothing. Just another reminder that no one cared, that I was invisible, unworthy of even the smallest kindness.

I wrapped the jacket around me, but it did nothing to stop the tremors coursing through my body. Shock. Pain. Fear. Humiliation. They clung to me like a second skin, seeping into my bones.

The world outside was gray, heavy with rain pouring, and as I stumbled into it, the heavens themselves seemed to join in my punishment. Rain pounded down, soaking the jacket, drenching the scraps of fabric that still clung to my skin. My tears mixed with it, but I had no strength left to cry. My mind had gone numb. My body moved on autopilot, dragging itself across the nearly empty streets, soaked and exhausted, my vision blurring.

I was approaching a dark alley, a shortcut home when a car honked beside me. I froze, my heart thudding painfully in my chest. Slowly, I turned. There was Calhoun. Clutching the steering wheel, his gaze locked onto me with that piercing intensity I had once craved, and he waved for me to get in.

Fresh pain, hatred, heartbreak, it all surged through me at once. My chest felt like it had been torn open. I wanted to scream at him. Fuck you. Go to hell with your ride. But the words caught in my throat. Did they even matter anymore? My vision was already swimming with black dots. My body felt like it was disintegrating, piece by piece, under the weight of everything.

So I ignored him. My feet dragged through the puddles. Rain pelted my head and my soaked jacket, but I barely noticed. I was already broken. Already numb. My heart hardened a little more with every step, my soul turning colder and colder.

The honking didn't stop. My head throbbed as I tried to ignore it, my soaked jacket clinging to me like a second skin, heavy with the rain and then his voice cut through the storm.

"Elodie! Get into the car now!"

I froze. Every nerve in my body screamed. Hot, furious anger surged through me, burning brighter than the cold rain pelting my skin. In the past, I would have panicked. I would have rushed to him, eager to please, desperate not to upset him. But not now. Not after today.

I turned on my heels slowly, letting the rain wash over my face as I faced him, giving him the coldest, deadest look I could muster.

"What for?" I spat, my voice trembling with fury and heartbreak. "What's the need for me to enter your car right now? Don't waste your time, Alpha Calhoun. Don't forget, I'm just a Gamma. I have no reason to be in the same car as you."

The words hung in the air, and I turned away, trudging slowly forward, letting each step pull me farther from him, from everything I had once believed in. I didn't care to see his expression. I didn't care if he followed.

But then I heard a car door slamming, footsteps rushing toward me. My heart thudded in panic, but I didn't look. I shouldn't have to. And just as I took another step, a hand clamped hard around my wrist and yanked me backward. Pain shot through me, and I gasped, stumbling.

His glare was fire, furious and unyielding.

"Didn't you hear me when I asked you to get in?" His voice was harsh. "Why are you so pissed? I get it, today's been bad. Misunderstandings everywhere. But I did what I had to! I didn't want to lose Carmela again. I've lost her once; I will never let that happen again. I'll make it up to you somehow, don't worry! You can't just mess everything up over this little misunderstanding!"

His words slapped me harder than any hand could. They burned, and I yanked my wrist from his grip, ignoring the sharp pain. I laughed, but it was empty, hollow, and bitter.

"Have you seen yourself?" I whispered, stepping back, my voice breaking with rage and grief. "Felt no shame? Left your mate to chase after a mistress? Why? Don't worry, Alpha Calhoun. I know my place now. I am a Gamma. Just his assistant. I would never hope for more. Happy now? Can I go?"

Something in his eyes snapped. Murderous. Furious. He stepped forward, pointing at me, shouting, his voice trembling with emotion I couldn't decipher.

"You know that's not what I meant! I never looked down on you! I did what I had to out there to calm Carmela, or there would have been chaos more than I could ever handle! And-"

The next words didn't reach me. My world tilted, the rain spinning, the street fading. The last thing I heard before everything went black was him calling my name. And then pain. Then cold, wet asphalt against my body, every inch of me aching.

The morning sunlight burned my eyes as it streamed through the window. I winced, trying to open them, only to be startled by a beeping sound. My eyes snapped open fully, and I gasped.

And there,beside me, was a figure, her shoulders shaking as she cried. My heart skipped.

"Elodie." she whispered, broken, her face crumpling as she lifted her head.

It was Mila.

She jumped to her feet, bursting into tears all over again. "Oh, my darling, look at you," she wept, clutching the bedrail as if her legs might give out. "I thought I had lost you. You've been unconscious for over thirty-six hours!"

I blinked, dazed. Surely I was hallucinating. Surely the fever in my veins was playing tricks. "Mila?" I croaked, my voice raw and unrecognizable. "Mila. is that you?"

Her head bobbed, tears streaming down her cheeks as she nodded. "Yes. It's me. It's really me."

And that was it. The fragile wall I had built inside me shattered. I burst into tears, sobs tearing through my chest so violently that every rib ached. Pain lanced through my body with each breath, but I couldn't stop. Mila bent over me, wrapping me in the gentlest embrace, her lips pressing against my damp forehead again and again as she rocked me.

"Shh. I've got you," she whispered through her own sobs. "I've got you, my love. You're safe now. You're safe."

"I heard about the thing the moment I landed back in the Pack," she whispered, voice cracking.

"Elodie. Calhoun is being impossible! He lets that phony girl wrap him around her little finger, blind to what's real and what's just cheap trash."

I forced a smile to my lips, though it felt like ripping a wound open.

"I'm fine," I lied, the words bitter as ash on my tongue. My lips trembled. "I. I'll be fine."

My smile cracked, my voice breaking. "I. we." The words wouldn't come, swallowed by the lump in my throat.

"Our relationship is strictly professional now. As for us. there's nothing. We're done. We have nothing to do with each other."

"Oh, Elodie." she whispered.

Then her tone shifted.

"Very good then," she said with a huff. "If you're done with him, then onto the next. Look at you, hurt but still gorgeous. This plump ass of yours? Alphas would drool. All you need to do is show the world you're single, unmated, and boom, watch the magic happen. I'm telling you, Elodie, I'm hooking you up with someone. Don't you worry. Who knows? Your mate might be right around here."

A small, unwilling smile tugged at the corner of my lips at her silliness, just for a second, but the sound of the ward door slamming open ripped it away.

Calhoun stormed in, his eyes murderous, his presence swallowing the air whole. My breath caught, but I kept my expression neutral, even as his gaze locked on Mila with enough venom to burn her. She didn't flinch. She just glared right back.

His voice was low, but thunderous. "What's the meaning of what you just said? You will not hook her up with anyone. Those men aren't worthy to breathe near her. They just want to fuck her and then dump her for their real mates. Elodie is mine to protect, and I won't have her thrown to wolves who'll use and discard her."

Mila scoffed, leaning back like his fury was nothing. "Dude, please. Relax. There are still good men out there. All she needs is to go out, meet people, and maybe.just maybe.she'll find her mate. Fate works in mysterious ways. And besides. why do you care? Why does it matter who she's with? Not everyone is like you, Calhoun. Not everyone plays with two women's emotions at once. Blind as a bat, with no real taste in partners."

A vein ticked at his temple, his jaw clenching so tightly it looked painful. His voice snapped. "Don't you dare. Don't you ever try to force her into some meaningless feelings for these men. If you do, Mila.you'll answer to me."

Before Mila could retort, I broke in. "Alpha Calhoun, do you need something? Don't mind Mila. she's only joking."

"I'm not joking," Mila muttered stubbornly beside me.

But he ignored her completely. His eyes shifted back to me, unreadable. He opened his mouth, then stopped, swallowing whatever he'd wanted to say. When he finally spoke, his tone was clipped. "I came to make sure Mila gets home safely to her family. And. to check on you."

I forced a bitter smile and nodded faintly. "Thank you."

Mila moved quickly, almost shielding me. She placed a hand on his chest and pushed him gently but firmly toward the door. "Alright, time for you to go. Elodie needs rest, not more drama."

He resisted at first, reluctant, his gaze still fixed on me like he was trying to memorize every detail. But finally, he let himself be ushered out. Mila slammed the door behind him with more force than necessary, leaving the silence to thicken again.

When she came back to me, she sighed, her eyes softening. "Don't mind him, El. I know he seems cold, even cruel sometimes, but deep down? That man genuinely cares for you. More than he wants to admit."

ELODIE'S POV~

The day after I was discharged, I made the mistake of stepping back into the office.

Maybe I thought slipping in quietly, finishing the paperwork, and leaving for good would grant me some peace. I should have known better. In Calhoun's world, peace wasn't meant for someone like me.

I hugged the small cardboard box to my chest, filled with the scraps of a life I'd tried to build here, half-used notepads, a chipped mug, a picture frame that no longer meant anything. My steps echoed down the polished hallway, too loud in the silence, as though announcing my presence to the one person I prayed I wouldn't meet.

But fate has a cruel sense of humor.

The elevator chimed just as I reached for it. The doors slid open, and there she was. the bitch, Carmela. Draped in designer fabric that clung like second skin, holding a coffee cup like it was an extension of her hand. Her smile was already sharp, as though she'd been waiting for me.

She didn't sidestep. She collided into me deliberately, the coffee tilting, splashing across her pristine dress.

Her gasp pierced the air, fake, theatrical. "You ruined my dress! Again!" Her voice rose, carrying across the lobby. "You pathetic little thing, do you think this is funny? Do you think Calhoun will save you?"

I froze, my chest burning with humiliation as eyes turned toward us. "I didn't-"

But she didn't let me finish. She tossed the rest of the coffee in my face. The liquid was lukewarm but the shame scalded hotter than fire.

"What's that look for?" she sneered, tilting her head, savoring the spectacle. "Do you think this is unfair? News flash, sweetheart, Calhoun only has eyes for me. Whatever I want, I get. Taking down some nobody Gamma girl? That's not even worth his time."

Her heels clicked as she sashayed past me, leaving the bitter stench of coffee on my skin and a thousand eyes burning into my back.

"Security," she called lazily over her shoulder, "make sure she apologizes. On her knees. At the entrance. Don't let her up until I say."

My heart plummeted as two guards stepped forward.

"I don't even work here anymore!" I snapped, voice cracking. "I just resigned. You can't make me kneel like this!"

Their expressions didn't flicker. "Standing orders from Alpha Calhoun. Whatever Miss Carmela wants, Miss Carmela gets. Save your breath for him."

Those words shredded whatever pride I had left.

Still, I fought as they dragged me outside, the box falling from my arms, papers scattering across the floor like worthless confetti. My knees hit the concrete hard, pain shooting up my legs. Cold air bit into me, slicing through my thin clothes.

"Please." My voice was hoarse. "Don't do this."

But the guards didn't hear me. Or maybe they just didn't care.

And so, in front of coworkers and strangers, I knelt. Hours passed, my body trembling violently. My knees bled through the fabric, the blood freezing almost as quickly as it surfaced. Faces blurred as they walked by, some snapping pictures, others whispering.

I refused to fall. Stubbornness was the only thing holding me up when my body begged to collapse.

By the time the office lights dimmed for closing, my vision had gone hazy, every breath ragged. My head hung low, my body nothing but pain.

"Elodie!"

The sound of my name dragged my head up weakly. Through the blur, I saw Mila, her expensive heels clicking against the sidewalk as she rushed toward me. Her eyes were wide, almost horrified.

"You just got out of the hospital," she cried, kneeling beside me. "Why the hell are you kneeling out here in this freezing cold? Who did this to you?"

Her voice cracked with genuine fear, and I wanted so badly to collapse into her arms, to cling to the warmth of her concern. But my throat was dry, every word jagged as I forced it out.

".Mila," I rasped.

And then everything tilted sideways.

She crouched quickly and helped me up, fingers gentle as she guided me to sit on the low pavement of the corridor. "Can you breathe?" she hissed, checking me like I was the only thing that mattered. Her hands were steady, but her shoulders were wound tight with fury. She made sure I was steady, then, without a backward glance, she stormed off toward Calhoun's office. My heart slammed against my ribs so hard I thought it would burst.

"I can't let her do this," Mila mouthed over her shoulder, eyes fixed on the door. "Not to you."

I pushed off the ground with shaking hands and stumbled after her. I couldn't, wouldn't, let her go alone. If Mila got into trouble for me, I would never forgive myself.

She didn't knock. She slammed the door so hard it rattled in its frame and the whole hallway seemed to flinch. Before I could catch up, she was inside, voice already shredding the air.

"Where the fuck is that bitch who dared to touch my girl?" she screamed, wild and raw. "Oh-there you are, you stupid, silly slut! How dare you?!"

Carmela stood there like a porcelain doll tipped into motion, perfect hair, a smear of faux-innocence plastered across her face. She widened her eyes so perfectly I could have vomited. She acted hurt as though I had plunged a dagger into her lily-white heart.

Mila didn't stop. Her words spilled in a torrent. "You hear me, Carmela? How dare you lay a hand on her! Elodie did nothing to you. She works for Calhoun, she's not your property. Stop acting like some senseless woman clawing for a Luna position you don't deserve. You're not worthy of him. You're not worthy of anything!"

Calhoun's expression changed in a single breath. The air tightened. He growled then bared his fangs as his eyes flared amber. "Enough!!!" he thundered, and the sound hit me like a physical blow. Mila froze mid-sentence, the muscles in her neck working as she forced herself to stop.

My heart felt like it had been folded small and put in a drawer. Calhoun turned, and for one suspended second his eyes landed on me. They scanned my hair, my ruined clothes, the dried crust of blood at my knees from earlier and I felt exposed, like someone had peeled the skin off my chest and was holding it up to the light.

Before he could say anything, though, I saw the panic flash in Carmela's face. It was quick at first,too late to be genuine and then she dove forward like a practiced actress, flinging herself into Calhoun's arms. Her shoulders shook in theatrical sobs. "This wasn't what happened," she cried, wailing with perfect cadence. "They're trying to make me look like the villain. Elodie provoked me, she and Elodie planned this! How could I make Elodie kneel? This is a setup!"

I stood frozen, every instinct screaming that she was lying. Her voice was the smoothest lie I'd ever heard. Calhoun's posture shifted to protective posture, arms tightening, his whole body forming a shield around her.

That was when Mila lost it.

"You bitch!" she screamed. She closed the space between them in two steps and slapped Carmela hard across the face. The crack of skin on skin was loud in the hallway. Carmela's earring flew off, glittering through the air, and she staggered back, stunned. She nearly went down, but Calhoun's hands were there, catching her before she hit the floor.

My hand flew to my mouth before I even realized I'd done it. I couldn't breathe properly; the world had narrowed to Mila's shaking fist, the fallen earring, Carmela's face, mouth open in hurt, eyes shining with tears and Calhoun's ironed sleeve bracing her like she was fragile china.

Calhoun's jaw clenched. He looked like he wanted to shatter something. I wondered which of us he'd do it to.

I wanted so badly to tell him that Carmela had thrown coffee in my face, that she'd made me kneel for hours until my knees bled, that she'd smiled while strangers snapped photographs of me crumpled and humiliated. I wanted to tell him the truth, the whole brutal, ugly truth. But words stuck to my tongue.

The sound of Carmela's sob tore through the hallway. She lunged into Calhoun's arms, fingers clawing at his sleeve, and all the practiced fragility she wore fell into a poisonous, trembling plea.

"Did you see that?" she cried. She tugged at his sleeves, looking up at him with eyes full of hurt that I knew were false. "The way she slapped me.your sister just struck me over a lie her friend cooked up without even checking if it was true. How can you stand there and let this happen? Fine! It seems I know where your loyalty stands now! We are done!"

The words landed like thunder. For a second the world narrowed to the four of us. Carmela, weeping on his chest, Mila pressed tight and furious, and me, bleeding from humiliation. Panic flashed across Calhoun's face in a way that made my blood run cold. I'd seen him furious before, but there was something in that panic that felt like a door slam closed on whatever small hope I'd been foolish enough to keep alive.

Then everything moved too fast.

Calhoun crossed the space between him and Mila in two long strides and struck her hard. The sound of his hand on her cheek echoed. Mila staggered, a sharp gasp tearing out of her, one hand flying to her face. I lunged forward before I even thought, arms wrapping around her as if I could hold her together with my body. She was trembling under me, the fury that had been a roaring tide in her a moment before had turned to pain.

Carmela's eyes glittered in a way that made bile rise in my throat. She wore victory like perfume.

Calhoun's voice cracked as he yelled. "How dare you slap your future sister-in-law and your future Luna? Are you insane?!" His words were raw, a kind of cold wrath that burned. Mila froze, eyes wide as if she'd seen a reaper.

Calhoun didn't stop there. He turned his gaze to me, slowly, and merciless and said, "And you! The next time you lie about Carmela, you will be fired. No discussions. No excuses." There was finality in that sentence, a blade closing on whatever remnant of me had hoped for fairness. He took Carmela with him without another look, his hand possessive on her back as they walked away. Mila stood in the corridor trembling, wiping at her cheek with the back of her hand, eyes bright and furious and broken all at once.

I let out a breath that hurt. I pulled Mila to me because it was the only thing my body knew how to do, pressing her face into my shoulder. "There's no need," I told her. "Don't fight for me. I'm leaving. I'm leaving the Pack. I'm. I'm probably moving to Paris. I can't stay here." The words fell out of me like a stone.

Mila jerked away as if I'd punched her. For a second her face went blank and then she spun to look at me, searching my eyes like she could read a lie if there was one. When she saw nothing but coldness here, her knees buckled and she collapsed into my arms, sobbing. "No.please, Elodie, don't go," she begged between hiccups. "Is it because of Calhoun? Because of Carmela? I can handle them. I'll. I'll deal with them for you. Don't leave me. Don't-" Her mouth trembled on my name until it broke my chest.

I hugged her tighter until the wordless sobs reduced to soft, strangled noises. "I'm sorry, Milly," I whispered, using the pet name that had always made her face soften. "I can't stay. Nothing lasts forever. I can't keep waiting in this place for crumbs that were never mine. I'm sorry."

Days passed quickly. Mila never left my side. We ate noodles on my sagging couch, laughed at memories until the laughter cracked into tears, and then we cried until our throats burned. She packed my shirts into suitcases with hands that shook. When she saw how steady my hand was when I sealed the zipper, she would cover her mouth and sob harder. We spoke of Paris like it was a different life and the only place I could see myself breathing again.

The night before my flight, Mila's eyes were swollen and raw. She picked up her phone, fingers trembling, and began to type a furious message to Calhoun. She stopped when I put a hand over hers. "No," I said. "Please, Mika. Drop it. There's no time." She looked at me as if I'd stabbed her, then let out a wet, defeated sound. "Okay. Okay. But I hate him."

She hated him the way you hate a storm that took your house. Her voice kept shattering. We folded into each other on the couch until the city hummed outside the window like some indifferent animal.

My phone buzzed then with a new message. I didn't want to see his name, but instinct made me look. It was Calhoun: "Where are you?"

Mila's face flamed with anger; she snatched my phone like she intended to fire back. I managed to stop her hand.

"No," I said quietly. "Drop it, Mika. It's over." The last flight metaphor found me suddenly at the center: "It's over. No more layovers for a love that won't land. I've been waiting in this emotional terminal for years. It's time I board a different flight. Stop fighting with her because of me. Your brother is crazy about her; she'll be family soon. You need to find a way to coexist." My voice broke somewhere between brave and dead inside.

Mila's anger collapsed into fresh sobs. She held me like she was trying to hold every broken piece of me together. After a long time she helped me with the last of my bags and printed the ticket, her hands steady for the first time since that slap. At the gate she kissed my forehead again and again like memorizing a map.

Before I walked down the jetway I typed out one last message. My fingers felt like they belonged to someone else.

"Nine years loving you in silence. Five years pretending it was enough. This is the end of the line. Alpha Calhoun, I'm no longer your assistant. I no longer have feelings for you. We're just two strangers now. In this lifetime, let's never cross paths again."

I hit send, watched the dots spin and disappear, then blocked his number, email, social until his presence on my devices was gone like a bad dream. I didn't wait for his reply. I gave Mila one last look, one that contained grief and gratitude and every unspoken apology. She waved like a small, fierce flame.

When the plane lifted and the city shrank to a scatter of lights, I pressed my forehead to the window and let the tears come. It hurt like being cut open and then held over the sea. But as the miles put space between me and everything that had loved me only as an object, or a convenient thing, or a shadow, I felt myself unclench just enough to breathe.