Chapter 17
I’m utterly exhausted. I do everything I can to keep out of trouble–which basically means avoiding Theron, Selene, and the Alpha.
I spend the entire day holed up in my room. I can’t bring myself to step outside.
There’s a knock on the door.
I ignore it at first. Probably just one of the neighbor kids trying to mess with me again.
“Ria, I know you’re in there. Open the door!” Joy’s voice calls out. With a groan, I drag myself off the floor and open it.
“What?” I snap the moment the door swings open.
“H–How are you doing?” she asks, trying to smile, though it’s clearly forced. I stare at her blankly. I know her well enough to recognize this kind of behavior–she always acts like this when something’s
wrong.
“What do you want?” I ask, folding my arms across my chest.
“Look, I know things haven’t been great between us lately, but I just needed someone to talk to. And I miss my best friend.” I study her for a moment, really taking her in before I sigh.
“Alright. Come inside.” She steps forward, but then abruptly stops and pulls back.
“What now?” I say, rolling my eyes at her. Great, probably another one of her dramatic pauses.
“Sorry, it’s just…” She hesitates as if she’s changed her mind, shaking her head. “Never mind. It’s probably just me.”
“Joyce, just say it.”
“I don’t know… I’m probably just going through a rough patch, but… something about you, and about this room–it feels off.”
After what may or may not have happened last night, I’m not brushing anything off anymore.
“Off in what way?” I ask, watching her closely.
She tilts her head, then moves closer to me like she’s trying to confirm something.
“Aurelia, your scent… it’s not normal.” I laugh, trying to play it cool.
“Oh? Must be the new perfume I started using,” I lie without missing a beat. But she doesn’t buy it. She keeps sniffing at me, shaking her head.
“No, that’s not it. Aurelia, you don’t smell like the pack anymore. You don’t even smell like a wolf.” My blood runs cold. Her words could mean one of two terrifying things–either my wolf is gone… or Theron’s suspicions about me are true.
“Oh, it’s probably just the medication they’ve got me on. Might be interfering with my scent,” I say quickly.
She hums in response, nodding as if that explanation makes sense and moving on. I feel a surge of panic. If she ends up talking to Theron, this could spiral out of control fast. He already suspects
10:42
8.54%
something–and if he gets even the slightest confirmation, I have no idea what he might do to me.
I glance at her, tempted to plead with her not to say anything to Theron. But doing that might plant the idea in her head–assuming it hadn’t already crossed her mind–so I decide it’s not worth the risk.
“Anyway, I realize it’s a bit late,” she says with a warm smile, passing me the present she brought. “But I just wanted to say happy birthday.”
“Thanks,” I respond with a small smile. Honestly, I had completely forgotten it is my birthday.
My smile lingers, though it’s tinged with regret. I had imagined that by now, I would be with my mate. Never had I pictured him wrapped in someone else’s embrace, all because my wolf was weak and I lacked any standing.
“Thanks, Joy. It really does mean something.”
“Hey,” she nudges my shoulder lightly. “I know things didn’t turn out the way we hoped, or the way we pictured them, but I’m glad we’re still spending it together.” Her smile brings back memories–times when she was my closest friend, when I didn’t have to question her loyalty or constantly watch my every word, afraid she’d betray me to Theron with just one conversation.
“Yeah,” I murmur, my voice faint.
“Wanna check if ma’am Nola made you a cake?” she asks. I shake my head.
“Not right now. There’s just… a lot on my mind, and I need a little time alone.” I can see the disappointment flash across her face, but in this moment, I can’t bring myself to care.
She used to be the one person I confided in without hesitation. Now, I can barely meet her eyes without fearing she might be mind–linking Theron this very second, spilling everything she’s picked up.
“You don’t trust me anymore,” she says quietly, more as a realization than a question. She nods slowly, as if she’s coming to terms with it. “That’s okay. I get it. But I want you to know, I never meant to hurt you like that. Truly.”
“I know,” I lie, the words tasting bitter. Maybe I’m being childish, or maybe I just don’t want to hear her side. Either way, I’m not ready to forgive or forget. “I just need a bit of time to process everything.”
She gives a nod of understanding. “I actually had Ma’am Nola bake you a cake. I hope you’re not too upset to enjoy it.”
She begins to walk away, giving me the space I clearly asked for.
“Wait,” I call out, stopping her. Guilt creeps in–she did try to make my day special. “We could at least c atch up a little, then maybe go check out that cake?”
I watch her expression shift from gloom to joy. “Really? You don’t have to do that for me. I’ll totally give you your space if you need it, I just-” she starts rambling, like she always does when nerves get the better of her.
“Joy?” I interrupted, calling her name.
“Shut up,” she replied with a grin.
Today, I’ve decided to let go of the resentment I’ve been holding against her. She really seems like she needs a friend right now.
10.12
8.37%
“Ready to see your cake?” she asks as we descend the stairs. I give her an exaggerated eye roll–she’s nothing if not predictable.
“Let me guess–bubble gum or red velvet,” I say flatly. “You’re not exactly a mystery,” I add with a snort. I catch her rolling her eyes in response.
“Well, it’s a good thing I went the extra mile to do something different then,” she says, her excitement bubbling over.
I simply nod, not bothering to reply. As we reach the kitchen, I spot the cake on the table. I won’t lie–i t’s actually stunning.
The cake is white, decorated with a SpongeBob theme. Patrick is holding SpongeBob’s hand.
Beneath them, the words “Together Forever” are written.
“I did the design myself. Ma’am Nola didn’t have enough time,” she says before I can get a word out. “And no, I didn’t force her into it. You know how much she loves doing things for your birthday.” I nod, chuckling softly.
“Feels like the good old days,” I say with a wistful smile. But I know it isn’t true. Back then, Theron would’ve been here, singing with that awful but oddly attractive voice of his, and Callum would be standing off to the side, waiting for the song to end just so he could wish me and then leave.
I go ahead and cut the cake. “I have to admit, you actually caught me off guard,” I laugh as I see the layers inside. The top is chocolate, and the bottom has a creamy, milky flavor.
“I told you I would surprise you,” she says, clearly proud of herself.
I hold the plate out to her. It’s a familiar gesture. Every year, she tries to sneak the first bite of my cake -she knows how sacred that first bite is to me. It’s weird, but it’s our thing. Offering the plate first means I’m not upset with her anymore. And honestly, how could I be? She went through so much trouble just to make this day special for me.
“Here, you go first.”
She looks completely taken aback, her eyes beginning to glisten.
“Are you serious?” she asks, trying to blink away the tears, but I’ve already noticed. I’ll definitely tease her about it later.
“Yes,” I reply with a smile, thinking back to when I used to scream at her that only someone important to me could ever have the first bite of my cake.
With trembling hands, she picks up a fork and takes a bite.
“Damn! I knew this combo would be perfect,” she says, going in for another–until I quickly snatch the plate away from her.
“Let’s not push our luck,” I warn, my tone low and guarded, like a wolf defending its den.
She bursts into laughter, and it’s so contagious that I find myself laughing along. “Wait, I’ve got something to show you,” she says playfully.
Rising from her seat, she sways slightly and glances around. “Is it just me, or…” Her sentence trails off before she can finish–because she suddenly crumples to the floor.
“Joy!” I shout, panic flooding my voice as I rush to where she’s fallen.
I reach for her wrist–her pulse is faint, barely there.
