I steel myself, holding my posture as though my spine is locked into place. "If it's not serving you, then I really don't know why else I'm here." My voice stays level, carrying just enough respect to keep from being accused of defiance, but without any warmth.
Her eyes narrow slightly, and for a moment she studies me as though deciding whether to tear me apart now or wait until she can do it more effectively later. "I don't want to make your life more miserable than it already is," she says, her voice deceptively calm at first, before dipping lower, dangerously low, the kind of tone that makes the air feel heavy. "Because trust me, it won't just be bad… it will be the worst in ways that will make you wish you could die." She steps closer, slow and deliberate, the soft thud of her heel against the floor marking each word.
I don't back away. I won't. "What are we talking about?" I ask, though my voice is quieter now, almost involuntary.
A bitter chuckle escapes her lips, humorless and sharp. "Since I met with Hillary yesterday... when it became obvious, even in front of all the Alphas and Alpha heirs, that we are mates, I haven't seen the slightest sign of interest from him. Instead, it feels like he's fighting it, like he's resisting the bond. And that is strange, so strange, because every man wants me. Every single one wishes they could have me, wishes I would look at them, even if nothing more were to happen."
Her eyes flash with something more than anger.. something almost like shame, though she tries to bury it beneath her glare. "I thought today would be different," she continues, voice tightening. "I thought maybe he was just overwhelmed yesterday, maybe today he'd finally look at me and say, 'You're my mate. I'm happier than I've ever been in my life.' But no." Her lip curls as though the word itself is poison. "No. Every time you are in that council room, I see his eyes flicker toward you. Every time. I see him watching you while you stand there pretending nothing is happening, pretending you don't notice how his eyes are begging you to look back at him."
Her hands clench into fists, knuckles pale, her whole body taut as if she's holding herself back from striking me. "Everyone else might be blind, might be stupid, but I'm not. I know something is going on... or has been going on. And don't you dare stand here and pretend otherwise!"
The edge in her voice sharpens until it's almost a blade. "Don't push me, Aria. I have been easing myself into the life I've always dreamed of, life with the man I've prayed for everyday, the man I've lost sleep over, the man I've waited years to call mine. In every Alpha heirs' gathering, I tried. I tried so hard for him to notice me. But every time, as soon as the gathering ended, he would walk away, like he had somewhere far more important to be. And I refuse..." she steps closer, until I can feel her breath, "...I refuse to believe he was rushing to you. That he is so… worked up over you."
Her gaze rakes over me like I'm dirt beneath her shoes. "Is he bewitched? Blind? What exactly does he see in someone like you? You're nothing but a servant. You let yourself be dragged east and west without question. You can't fight back, never stand up for yourself, and when you're told no, you bow your head like a loyal dog. Is that it? Is that what he wants? Someone who just obeys and has no say in the future she's been decided for without herself being engaged?"
Her voice rises again, almost trembling with rage. "Do I need to become that? Do I need to become a servant who bows to every order like a dog for him to see me? Because apparently, that's his type. But no, I don't think that's the case. I know he wants me... otherwise he would have rejected me outright if that's what he wanted. And as for you… if you used your parents' witchcraft to capture him, go and undo it immediately before you regret ever being born."
My parents' witchcraft?! What is she even talking about now? Witches are forbidden in this pack, no one talks about them, not even in whispers.
The very idea is dangerous. And for her to say my parents'… she must just be grasping at anything cruel enough to throw at me, rambling in some desperate attempt to insult me.
I force myself to ignore that part, refusing to give her the satisfaction of seeing me react.
But something else she said lodges in my mind, something I can't shake even if I want to. My thoughts shift, drawn sharply to the other thing she mentioned.
For a moment.. just a moment, hope sparks in me. It's hot, sudden, almost startling, like a small flame flaring to life in the middle of a long, cold night.
Could it be? Has Hillary really been doing all of this… because of me?
But just as quickly, I shut it down. I can't afford to believe it. Hope is dangerous. Hope can push me toward him, and for what? If he is already hers, if this is already decided, then what would be the point?
I lift my gaze to meet hers, steady, despite the pounding in my chest. "You have no evidence," I say, each word deliberate. "You can't just accuse us of something like that. It's unthinkable that you'd believe Alpha Hillary would ever look at me that way."
Her face hardens. "Do you wish to be a rogue, Aria?"
The question is a blow, sharp and immediate, slamming into me like a physical strike. My chest tightens, my pulse thundering in my ears. No. No, I can't.
The thought alone is suffocating.
A rogue is worse than an outcast. A wolf without a pack, especially a she-wolf.. is more vulnerable than prey.
Without a pack, you have no protection, no rights, no power. You are nothing but a body, living on borrowed time.
Any pack can seize you, make you a slave, not even a servant, because servants still belong to a pack. A slave is nothing but property.
And the rogues out there… especially the men… they don't take you to kill you. They take you to use you, to satisfy themselves in the most degrading ways, again and again, until you wish for death.
Your wolf withers and dies without a pack, leaving you empty inside, weaker than a human, unable to defend yourself. Eventually, the body follows.
I can't be that. I won't survive that.
She sees the flicker of fear in my eyes, and her lips curl in satisfaction. "Refuse all you want," she says coldly. "Deny it until your last breath. But the next time I see Hillary looking at you like that, I won't care if it's not your will. I won't care if you've done nothing. I will make sure you're a rogue. Consider yourself warned."
She turns sharply, dismissing me with nothing more than a flick of her hand. "Get out of my sight."
Her words slice through me more deeply than I want to admit, but I don't move right away.
I keep my head down, forcing my body not to tremble, waiting until my breathing is steady before I turn.
The door feels impossibly far away, but I reach for it, my fingers curling around the handle like it's the only solid thing left in my world.