Chapter 2 Elira

ARYA

Jaime’s voice didn’t need to be loud for the accusation to cut through me.

It was sharp, precise, and cruelly calm, the kind of tone that leaves bruises no one else can see. The kind of bruises I've been carrying for five years.

For a heartbeat, I couldn’t breathe. The room felt too small, the air too thin. My throat tightened, my chest ached, and something inside me—the last, fragile part that still believed he’d ever see me—splintered.

My fists curled at my sides. Five years of being invisible, of smiling through frostbite and loneliness made my insides quiver with the need to scream, at him, at them, at his grandmother that made him marry me.

I pressed my lips into a thin line, swallowing the tremor in my throat until it burned all the way down. They won’t see me cry.

I’ve handled a marriage that was just on paper for five years.

I dealt with his coldness for years quietly. He’s never touched me, never looked at me like a husband should and I told myself I didn’t care.

But I did. God, I did.

And hearing him imply I’d endangered our pack—the one thing I’d sacrificed everything to protect—was a blade sliding clean between my ribs.

I took a breath then forced my voice out, smooth and even. “Can I speak to the injured guard or anyone on duty?”

Jaime stared at me like I was speaking another language.

“Well, if the rogues were looking for me,” I continued, surprised my tone didn’t crack, “the best person to ask is who saw them.”

“He’s in the infirmary.” Ryker’s voice broke the silence, not giving us either of us a chance to explode. “I’ll take you.”

Jaime looked close to it.

I nodded and followed him out. My legs felt like they belonged to someone else. Each step echoed like a countdown to something breaking inside me.

In the hall, Ryker gave me an apologetic look. “I’m sorry for his behavior. He’s just… stressed.”

I tried to smile, but it felt like my face had forgotten how. “Happy anniversary, Ar,” he added softly, patting my shoulder as we walked.

“Thank you.” My voice was paper thin. When we got to the infirmary, I shot him a fake smile. “I can handle it from here. Thanks for coming with me.”

It was his way of showing support.

“I’m always here for you.” He gave me a pat on the back and with a quick hug, he left.

I turned to the white infirmary door and rested my hand on the cold handle. My fingers were shaking.

The sting of being forgotten burned more than the bite of the metal.

He didn’t remember it was our anniversary. Of course he didn’t. He never has.

I inhaled, pushed the ache down, and let the numbness crawl back over me like armor.

If love couldn’t keep me warm, maybe indifference would.

I opened the door and was instantly hit with the smell of antiseptic and stale air. It was a long, quiet room with rows of beds separated by thin curtains. Most were empty now, but the white walls and sharp lighting made the wounds feel even more stark.

It didn’t take me long to identify the warrior.

He looked like he was in his early twenties, his right arm was in a cast, his forehead wrapped in gauze. Bandages covered the other arm and one leg. His face was littered with bruises and scratches. A swollen eye, dried blood near his temple. I winced inwardly, imagining the pain he must be in.

“Luna."

He tried to sit up the moment I reached his bed.

“No, please, don’t move too much. You’re still healing.”

“Thank you for coming to see me, Luna.”

I managed a small smile.

Many in the pack didn’t think I deserved the title. But the warriors were different. We worked side by side. Even if they didn’t see me as Luna, they respected my effort and that was something.

I cleared my throat and got straight to the point.

“They said you got close to the rogues during the breach.” He nodded. “Did you speak to any of them? Were they looking for…” I hesitated. “Someone? Did they mention a name?”

He furrowed his brow in confusion, then shook his head.

“No, Luna. They only said something about being led here. I don’t think they even knew who they were looking for.”

I asked more questions, trying to pull any useful detail from his memory. But everything he’d overheard was vague and nothing directly said to him.

“Thank you for your service,” I murmured, gently patting his shoulder as I stood.

“It’s my honor.”

I left the infirmary as unsettled as I’d arrived. My hand remained on my amulet until I was out of there.

The description he gave was brunette hair, green eyes. It could match dozens of women in the pack. Including me.

Why Jaime jumped to me, out of all the possibilities, was beyond comprehension.

This wasn’t how I imagined spending today. But nothing about my life was designed for me.

When I arrived at the pack office, the floor was quiet as most people had gone out for lunch break.

The few workers that were on seat nodded, murmuring “Luna,” as I passed. Most didn’t speak. As always, the whispers followed. It never stopped.

I hadn’t worn a blazer, and the cold air sliced through the silk of my blouse. I shivered more than once which was enough for them to notice, I’m sure.

Once in the elevator, I closed my eyes, grateful for a moment of solitude. The mirrored walls reflected the tired version of myself I barely recognized.

My phone rang just as the doors opened to the top floor.. I let it ring out when I saw it was the caterer.

I had planned a dinner for our fifth anniversary. A milestone. I’d never done anything like this before. I thought, just maybe, it would matter.

I knocked on Jaime’s office door and walked in without waiting for a response. I usually wouldn’t but I was exhausted. Too much to care about propriety.

“Oh.”

A feminine voice, too sweet, echoed from inside. My brows furrowed. Jaime had a woman in there?