ELODIE’S POV
It was just another Monday. But it felt like my funeral. Not literally... but sothing inside —sothing warm, hopeful, had died long ago. And today, like every day, I was dragging the bones of what was left into the damn building just to look at him. To look at the man who ripped apart piece by piece and still had no clue how deeply I bled for him.
God, I hated Mondays.
But more than anything... I hated myself.
For still hoping. For still waking up every morning thinking, maybe today he’ll see ... maybe today he’ll love back.
Stupid, stupid girl.
I pulled on my coat, slapped on so lip balm so I didn’t look half-dead, and walked into the office like a ghost in her own skin. No one could tell though. I was always on ti. Always put-together. Always carrying out my duties like a perfect little Gamma. Even my wolf was tired of as she whined each day.
etings. Pack rosters. Investnt briefings. Boardroom mos. Scheduling. I handled everything. I made sure the empire Calhoun was trying to build didn’t crumble from the inside. I was the hands behind the throne.
But he didn’t see that. He never did.
I kept myself busy all morning, burying my pain beneath back-to-back etings and hollow smiles. I briefed the warriors. I double-checked the contracts coming in from the trading sectors. I filed the latest correspondence from the Nightbourne Pack, ironically addressed to his attention. Everything had to be perfect. Everything had to be in place.
Because I was just the assistant.
And he was the man I was slowly dying for.
It wasn’t until I glanced at the clock that my heart skipped.
Shit. His eting.
He was due in five minutes. Of course, I had to go remind him. Of course, I had to walk into his office again and pretend like I hadn’t spent the entire weekend crying into a pillow while he probably spent it tangled up with Carla Reyes.
I took a deep breath. One. Then another. Picked up a few files just to give my hands sothing to do, anything to stop them from shaking, and slowly started the walk down the hall.
My boots echoed against the marble tiles as I approached the thick double doors of his office. My chest tightened the closer I got, like my heart already knew what I didn’t.
And then I heard it.
Laughter.
High-pitched. Feminine. Loud.
My body stopped moving.
I didn’t even realize I had frozen until my fingers hovered just above the door handle.
That voice. I’d know it anywhere.
Carla Reyes.
I swallowed. My shoulders slumped. My whole soul felt like it wanted to shrink, disappear into the floor tiles. But I had to go in. I had to do my job.
So I opened the door.
And I swear, blood drained from my face the second I stepped inside.
She was there. Sitting on his goddamn desk like she owned him.
Her Ginger hair tumbling over her bare shoulder as she fed him apple slices...apple, the one fruit Calhoun always said he hated while his hand worked effortlessly on his laptop... and the other hand was wrapped lazily around her waist like it belonged there.
I couldn’t breathe.
I stood there, stunned. Stupid.
Fingers still gripping the knob like it was the only thing anchoring to this world.
Her laughter died when she noticed .
Calhoun didn’t look up imdiately. But when he did... his eyes narrowed like he was annoyed.
“Are you insane?” Carla snapped, venom in her tone as she glared at like I was filth on her shoes. “Do you not know how to knock?”
I blinked.
That’s when reality hit. Not just of what I saw, but what it ant.
Calhoun... the Calhoun I knew. The one who hated body contact. The one who once refused to drink from the sa cup I used when I had a fever. The one who never let sit too close, who acted like my very presence disturbed the air around him—he had her sitting on his desk. Feeding him like a child. Touching him like it was nothing.
Who was this man?
He finally looked up at again. His voice was annoyed.
“What?” he said, like I had barged in on sothing trivial. “What do you want? Why are you standing there like you’ve seen a ghost?”
I wanted to throw the files at his face. I wanted to scream and cry. But all I could do was stand there.
Frozen. Humiliated. Heartbroken. Again.
I forced my voice out, barely a whisper. “You have a eting. In five minutes, Alpha.”
Carla suddenly began to cough violently. My body stiffened. I didn’t know what ca over —maybe instinct, maybe worry...but I took half a step forward before I stopped myself. Before I rembered who I was to them. No one.
But Calhoun...
His reaction nearly shattered .
His eyes widened in alarm. Panic...real panic...washed over his face like I’d never seen before. He imdiately reached for the other mug on his table, a ceramic one he never let anyone touch. The one I’d tried to hand him tea in once and he’d refused. He picked it up...his own mug...and gently brought it to her lips.
“Here, baby. Drink slowly,” he said, voice calm but hurried. He rubbed her back as she took a sip, whispering sothing I couldn’t hear. His hand never left her body—gentle strokes on her back, soft circles behind her neck. His brows were drawn, his mouth in a tight line of concern.
And it hurt. God, it hurt so badly.
That was the softest version of him I had ever seen.
And it wasn’t for .
It had never been for .
My eyes burned. I tried to blink it away, but the sting didn’t stop. A tear slipped out before I could catch it. I sniffled, quiet and quick, hoping—praying—neither of them heard.
But Calhoun finally looked up. His eyes locked with mine for the first ti in that room. I couldn’t read what was behind them. Maybe irritation. Maybe nothing. But they didn’t soften.
Then Carla turned her face, tilted her chin up to him like she owned him—and maybe she did—and pressed a possessive kiss to his lips. Her hand ca up and wrapped around the back of his neck, curling into his hair like she was comforting him now.
And then she smiled. A soft, smug smile.
“You’re such a darling, Cal,” she purred. “You’d do anything to make sure I’m okay, wouldn’t you?”
I held my breath. My nails dug into the folders I held. It took everything in not to break down right there on the spot.
Calhoun’s lips twitched into a small smile.
It was the first ti I had ever seen warmth on his face like that. And it was like it had been carved for her. Only for her.
His eyes flicked to hers, and with a small, quiet chuckle, he said,
“Of course. Anything for you.”
Anything for you.
Not .
Never .
My hands trembled.
Then the worst happened. The thing I’d always believed he would never do.
Carla took that sa mug—the one she had just drunk from—and without hesitation, she raised it to his lips.
And he didn’t flinch.
He didn’t question it.
He just... drank from it.
The exact sa mug. From her hand. Her lips. Her germs.
I felt a cold hit . Like soone had thrown a bucket of ice over my spine.
He wouldn’t even use a fork I used once. He wouldn’t even sit beside if I sneezed.
And now, he was sharing a damn cup.
I stood there, watching a version of Calhoun I didn’t recognize. A version I never got to et. One I begged for in silence, dread of having—just once—even if it was a shadow of the man before .
But all of him had always belonged to her.
My phone buzzed in my coat pocket. The vibration dragged back to reality—just barely. I glanced down at the screen. It was a calendar reminder. Pack Alpha council, twenty minutes in.
I cleared my throat softly and lowered my gaze to hide the burn rising behind my eyes.
“Alpha Calhoun,” I said, “so of the Pack Alphas are still waiting for your response. Most of them... they aren’t in a good mood.”
I could barely lift my eyes, but I did. Just a little. Enough to see Carla roll hers dramatically and let out a disgusted grunt.
“Ugh. Cal,” she scoffed, pointing directly at . “I swear, I hate this Gamma of yours. Doesn’t she know when to shut up?”
I stiffened.
And then his glare found .
A harsh flick of those dark eyes that had once softened in my dreams.
“Tell them I’ll join them soon,” Calhoun snapped, not even sparing a full glance. “My future Luna nearly choked. She needs to be attended to. Now.”
My lips parted to say sothing—to offer to push the eting, or maybe to suggest soone else deliver the ssage—but the second I took a breath to speak, he cut off.
“Carla cos first before any Pack etings,” he said, sharply. Like it was a reminder. Like I’d sohow forgotten my place.
My heart clenched so painfully I had to clench my fists to keep my voice from shaking.
“Yes, Alpha,” I whispered, and quickly typed the ssage to the Alphas’ platform to reschedule the session. I was just about to turn when Carla let out another little groan, dragging her fingers through her hair in mock stress.
“You know,” she drawled, “I’ve heard people say Elodie makes the best broth in the office. I’d like to try one. I’ll stay back here and rest. And if I like it... maybe I’ll let her serve again.”
My lungs locked.
Please no. Not this.
Then Calhoun spoke, “You heard her. Go make the broth. Stay with her until I get back.”
That was it. No second thought. No consideration. No look at to see the pain his words carved into .
I forced a smile—God, it hurt to even curve my lips—and nodded.
“Yes, Alpha.”
And then I turned. My feet felt heavy. My chest ached. My eyes burned. But I walked out. I made the broth. It only took three minutes.
Three minutes to convince myself to breathe.
Three minutes to pull myself back together.
When I ca back in, carefully holding the tray, the first thing I saw made my stomach twist.
Carla. Standing close. Too close. Straightening Calhoun’s tie with both hands, like a perfect little wife. His head bent slightly as he let her. He didn’t even acknowledge my return.
I lowered myself as I stepped in, walking past them quietly. As I turned toward her with the bowl, Calhoun brushed past and walked out—just like that.
I brought the broth to her, placed it gently on the side table.
She barely looked at . Just picked up the spoon, took a sip And then, her face twisted in Disgust.
“What the hell is this?!” she snapped, just before she shrieked. I barely had ti to step back when she hurled the hot broth straight at .
It splashed across my chest and shirt, scalding heat burning into my skin as I let out a sharp cry.
“Ahh!” I gasped, stumbling back, trying not to drop the tray.
But she wasn’t done.
The next thing I saw was Calhoun’s mug—his sacred mug—the one he only let her touch. She hurled it with such rage I couldn’t dodge it fast enough. It shattered right against my cheek and pain exploded through my face, my ears ringing from the force.
Glass cut into my skin. Blood trickled down. I staggered and caught myself on the wall. My heart raced. My vision blurred.
She stood. Her eyes glowing a dangerous amber. Her voice dripped venom.
“The broth is cold, Gamma. What were you trying to do? Poison ?”
I couldn’t speak.
I opened my mouth, tried to explain, but nothing ca out. Just stuttering breaths and sha burning hotter than the broth that clung to my clothes.
The door burst open.
Calhoun rushed in, followed by a few staff mbers who gasped at the sight.
But Carla...Carla was faster.
She turned to him with tears already streaming down her face—like she’d rehearsed this mont. She rushed into his arms like the victim, burying her face into his chest as she cried.
“She tried to poison ,” she wailed. “I swear, Cal... just because I told her off earlier for interrupting us. She did sothing to the broth, I know it. I don’t feel good...”
I blinked, trembling, bleeding, heart pounding, waiting—just waiting—for him to ask what happened.
But he didn’t.
He kissed her head. Whispered sothing in her ear I couldn’t hear.
Then he turned to soone behind . Not even to .
“Clear her desk,” he said, coldly. “Her salaries will be slashed by seventy percent. And make sure she learns to make better broth. She’ll issue a public apology to Carla by tomorrow.”
Then he wrapped an arm around Carla’s waist, gently tugged her closer, and walked her out.
That was it.
No questions.
No defense.
No glance my way.
Just like that, I was nothing.
And I stood there—shaking, burned, bleeding, humiliated as the door clicked shut behind them.
And my heart...shattered into pieces no one would ever care to pick up.
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