Soraya
I couldn't breathe in that room anymore.
Grandmother's body lay still beneath the white sheet Dr. Tim had pulled over her face, and the finality of it, the absolute crushing finality, pressed against my chest like an iron weight.
The heart monitor's flatline still echoed in my ears, a sound I knew would haunt me for the rest of my life. Behind me, Vivienne's theatrical sobs filled the hallway. And underneath it all, my stepsister's soft, melodic voice drifted into the room.
She'd stepped out after coming in to see Grammy.
She's enjoying this, Honey snarled in my mind. She's been back five minutes and she's already playing the devoted daughter.
I pressed my palm against the doorframe, forcing myself to stay upright. To not collapse. To not scream.
"Soraya." Jordan's voice came from behind me, low and careful. The way you'd speak to a wounded animal. "We should..."
"Don't." The word came out sharper than I intended. I still couldn't look at him. Couldn't bear to see Eleanor in his arms, her little face confused and tired, while he stood there reeking of lies. "Not here. Not now."
"But I need to explain..."
"I said NOT NOW." I finally turned, and whatever he saw in my face made him step back.
Eleanor stirred in his arms, her sleepy eyes finding mine. "Mommy?"
The word nearly broke me.
"Hi, baby." I managed to keep my voice soft, reaching out to stroke her dark curls. She looked so much like him. Those same storm-gray eyes, that same stubborn chin.
"Grammy had to go to the Moon Goddess, sweetheart. But Mommy's here, okay?"
"You're sad." Her small hand patted my cheek, wiping away the tear streaks, and I had to bite my lip to keep from sobbing.
"Don't be sad, Mommy."
"I'll try, my..." I choked on the word. "My baby."
"Soraya!" Vivienne's voice cut through the moment, sharp and commanding. I stepped into the hallway where she stood flanked by Morgan and my father, her face blotchy and red. But her eyes were sharp as she looked between Jordan and me. "We need to discuss arrangements. Now."
My father finally spoke, his voice cold and businesslike. "The funeral should be held at the main pack house. Three days from now. That gives us ample time for preparations."
"Actually," Magda emerged from the guest room, dabbing at her eyes with a silk handkerchief.
She wore a designer trench coat over what looked like an expensive black dress, and even in grief, she was breathtaking.
Something about the way she held herself, the way the coat hung on her frame, made me study her more closely.
Something about Magda's scent is off, Honey whined, confused.
I inhaled sharply, catching Magda's signature jasmine and vanilla, but beneath it was something else. Something sweeter. Richer. Almost like...
No. I pushed the thought away. I couldn't think about that now. Not here. Not with Grammy's body still warm in the next room.
"I think Grammy would have wanted something more intimate," Magda continued, her voice soft and trembling. "Just family. Maybe in the rose garden she loved so much?"
Grammy? Honey hissed. She hasn't been here in FIVE YEARS and now she's calling her Grammy? She never even liked her while she was alive.
"That's a lovely idea, darling." Vivienne reached for Magda's hand, squeezing it. The gesture was so natural, so maternal, it made my stomach twist.
She'd never held my hand like that. Not once. Not even when I was eight years old and crying because the other pack children called me "the bastard."
"I don't think..." I started.
"No one asked what you think, Soraya." Morgan's voice dripped with venom. He'd positioned himself beside Vivienne, his arm around her shoulders. "You've done enough damage just by showing up."The words hit like a physical blow.
"That's enough, Morgan." My father's rebuke was half-hearted at best. He still wouldn't look at me directly.
"Is it, though?" Vivienne's red-rimmed eyes fixed on me with laser focus. "Every time there's a crisis, Soraya is at the center of it. When Magda left..."
"That wasn't my fault." My voice came out steadier than I felt. "You know it was because..."
"Wasn't it?" Vivienne's lip curled. "My daughter was happy until you started sniffing around Jordan. Don't think I didn't see the way you looked at him when you were children. Pathetic, really. The bastard girl thinking she could compete with..."
"Vivienne." Jordan's voice carried Alpha command now, making everyone in the hallway stiffen. "That's enough."
For a moment, my stepmother looked like she might argue. But then she seemed to remember who Jordan was. The Alpha of Paradise Pack. The man who could destroy everything my father had built with a single word.
Eleanor whimpered against his chest, and I watched him immediately soften his stance, bouncing her soothingly. "We're all grieving," he said, his voice carefully controlled now. "Let's not make this worse."
He met my eyes over Eleanor's head, and I saw it there. The guilt. The desperate plea for understanding. The hope that I would just let this go, be reasonable, not cause a scene.
Vivienne lowered her gaze. "Of course, Alpha. Forgive me. I'm... not myself."
Liar, Honey spat. She's exactly herself.
"I think we should all take a breath," Magda said softly, moving to stand beside Jordan. Too close. As if she were staking her claim.
And Jordan didn't move away.
"I'll handle the arrangements," Magda continued, her blue eyes meeting mine with something that looked like pity but felt like triumph. "You've been through so much already, Raya. Let me help shoulder the burden. For Grammy's sake."
She'd used my nickname. The one only Jordan and my grandmother were allowed to use. The casual theft of it made something inside me snap.
"Fine." I kept my voice level, emotionless. "I'll head home. You all clearly have this under control. Jordan, I assume you're staying to... help with arrangements?" The question came out colder than I intended, but I was beyond caring.
"Since you're already here. Since you came all this way from Silver Ridge Pack."
The emphasis on the lie hung in the air between us, loaded with everything I wasn't saying.
"Yes, Jordan should stay," Vivienne said quickly. "Magda will need help with the logistics, won't you, darling?" She squeezed Magda's hand again, and I watched my stepsister lean into our stepmother's embrace.
The perfect family. With me on the outside. As always.
"I..." He glanced at Magda, then back at me. "I should make sure everything is..."
I cut him off before he could finish the lie.
"Take your time. I'll put Eleanor to bed when you bring her home."
If you bring her home, I didn't add.
"Of course." Magda said softly, her blue eyes finding mine again. "This is such a difficult time for all of us. We should lean on each other."
Jordan. Not "Alpha Rutherford." Not the formal title she should use after five years away. Just...Jordan.
Like they were still friends. Still something more.
Then her hand rested on his arm, gentle and supportive, and Jordan didn't pull away.
Mate, Honey whispered suddenly, confused. I feel... something. But it's wrong. Distorted.
My breath caught.
The mate bond. I'd felt its pull toward Jordan since I was sixteen, that undeniable tug that whispered mine, mine, mine.But it had always been one-sided, faint, because Jordan had never felt it back. Not with me.
I'd told myself it didn't matter. That love could grow without the mate bond. That he'd chosen me, and that was enough. But standing there, watching Magda touch him, I felt something else. Something twisted in my chest, sharp and wrong.
Had I been fooling myself all along? Had I mistaken his grief and loneliness for something real? I'd thought Jordan was healing, that I was being patient with him.
Now I wondered if I'd just been convenient. The mate he'd chosen to never want.
I turned to leave, my heels clicking on the hardwood floor. Behind me, I heard Magda whisper something to Jordan, heard his low response, heard Eleanor asking why Mommy was leaving without them.
Each word was a knife between my ribs.
The night air hit me like a slap when I stepped outside. My car sat alone in the circular driveway, looking as abandoned as I felt. I fumbled with my keys, my hands shaking so badly it took three tries to unlock the door.
Behind me, I heard voices. Magda's light laugh. Jordan's voice. Eleanor's sleepy questions but I didn't look back.
I slid into the driver's seat and gripped the steering wheel, staring at my white knuckles. Breathing. Just breathing. That's all I had to do.
Breathe in. Breathe out. Don't fall apart. Not here. Not where they could see.
Hold it together, I told myself, casting my mind back to the day I'd fallen in love with Jordan Rutherford.