Elodie’s POV~
I hugged her and kissed her, whispering, “Okay, don’t be angry...”
But the second my lips brushed against Liora’s soft cheek, I felt her trembling. The kind of trembling that cos not from fear, but from hurt that’s been building up too long, like a storm begging to break.
Her tiny hands fisted against my blouse, her face scrunching up, and then suddenly she started crying. Not the quiet kind, but the heart-shattering sobs that made my chest tighten and my throat ache.
“Then... you can’t hug her anymore,” she hiccupped between sobs, her words wobbling with pain. “And you can’t say she’s cute either!”
That was when I understood.
She wasn’t just throwing a tantrum. She was jealous.
The realization hit harder than I expected. It wasn’t about Tommy or anyone else. It was about . I’d been so busy juggling etings at the Bellini Pack’s HQ, so busy trying to balance being Dante’s Luna, that I hadn’t realized my daughter, my beautiful, fiery little Liora was fighting for a space in my heart she already owned.
I crouched down to her level, brushing away her tears with trembling fingers. “Liora...” I tried to smile, but my voice cracked halfway through. “Sweetheart, is that why you’re upset?”
Her bottom lip quivered, and she refused to et my eyes. She just nodded, her shoulders shaking as she whispered, “You used to only hug , Mama. You used to only say I was cute.”
My heart broke.
The noise of the Pack’s gathering faded away, the laughter, the chatter, the distant sound of music, all of it blurred until it was just us. Just , holding my daughter’s heart in my hands and realizing I had crushed it without aning to.
Tommy, standing a few feet away, clutched the hem of her dress nervously. She was just a child, innocent, wide-eyed, unaware she had wandered into a fragile space between a mother and her daughter.
I reached for Liora again, but she pulled back slightly, her eyes swimming in tears. That rejection so small, yet so piercing made sothing inside collapse.
“Liora,” I whispered again, softer this ti, “you don’t have to be scared. No one could ever take your place. No one.”
“But you called her cute,” she said again, quieter now. “You never call cute anymore.”
I wanted to tell her she was beyond cute, that she was brave, strong, stubborn, and my only sweetheart. But the words wouldn’t co out. They tangled in my throat, caught between guilt and exhaustion, between the Alpha’s mate I had to be... and the mother I was failing to be.
I pulled her into my arms anyway, ignoring her weak attempt to resist. I kissed her hair, breathing in her scent, the sweet mix of honey and wild grass. “I’m sorry,” I murmured, my voice breaking against her shoulder. “Mommy’s so sorry.”
Her little fingers clutched at my shirt again, and she sobbed harder, but this ti she didn’t pull away. She just cried against , letting out all the anger and fear she couldn’t understand.
Behind us, Tommy shuffled awkwardly, looking down at her shoes. I glanced at her, giving her a soft nod, and she hesitantly ca closer.
“Tommy,” I said gently, still holding Liora, “this is my daughter. She didn’t an to be an, okay? She’s just... she’s still learning.”
Tommy nodded, her voice small. “It’s okay.”
Liora sniffled, peeking up from my chest. Her lashes were wet, her cheeks red and blotchy. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, voice trembling.
Tommy smiled shyly. “It’s okay.”
With everything finally settled, I exhaled shakily, trying to keep my smile steady as I took both girls toward the classroom. My palms were slightly damp, maybe from nerves, maybe from the weight of everything pressing down lately but I forced a small laugh when Tommy tripped over her shoelaces again.
The horoom teacher arrived, taking Tommy’s hand gently. “Co on, sweetheart, let’s get you seated.”
Then it was just and Liora.
I crouched down to her level, brushing a loose curl behind her ear. “Alright, baby,” I murmured softly, “it’s all good now. Let’s go in, okay?”
Liora didn’t move. Her little hand clutched my wrist tighter. There was a flicker in her eyes, sothing stubborn, sothing uncertain. She’d always been fearless, too proud to back down even when she should. But right then, she just looked... fragile.
“Mom...” she whispered, her voice trembling like she was holding back tears.
My chest tightened instantly. “What’s wrong?” I asked, tucking her into my arms, inhaling the scent of her hair. That scent grounded , even when everything else in my life felt like it was slipping through my fingers.
“I want—” she started, then stopped.
I waited.
But then I saw the change in her eyes, the quick flicker, I realized she wasn’t about to tell .
Liora swallowed hard. “Never mind,” she mumbled, forcing a smile that didn’t reach her eyes.
I could feel the sting behind my own. “Are you sure?” I whispered, brushing her cheek with my thumb.
She nodded, too fast. “Yeah.”
And that was it. Just like that, she let go. The sa way I’d had to learn to let go of so many pieces of myself in this life, quietly, without complaint.
“Alright,” I said, my voice trembling just enough for her not to notice. “Go on in, baby. Don’t keep your teacher waiting.”
“Mm.”
She took a step away, then turned back, her little fingers tightening around the strap of her backpack. “Mom?”
“Yeah?”
“Rember to call at noon,” she said softly.
That smile. That fragile, hopeful smile. moon goddess, it broke .
“I’ll call,” I promised, forcing the corners of my lips to lift.
Only when she walked into the classroom, introducing herself in front of everyone with that spark I loved so much, did I let myself exhale. I stood there, hand pressed against my chest, watching her wave before she turned away.
I didn’t move for a long ti.
By the ti I got to Bellini Holdings, the shift in air was imdiate, colder, like the walls themselves whispered reminders that I didn’t belong here anymore. I caught a glimpse of myself in the glass doors... so pale, tired, a ghost of the woman I used to be before Dante’s world swallowed mine whole.
He wasn’t in his office. Of course he wasn’t. He was probably in so eting, charming investors, or maybe upstairs with Sienna. I brushed a stray hair behind my ear, pretending it didn’t sting.
“Ms. Elodie,” Albert’s voice called from across the lobby. He walked toward , expression neutral but guarded, like he already knew sothing I didn’t. Behind him stood a girl, young, polished, her posture a little too perfect. “This is Sherry. She’ll be taking over your position soon.”
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