Two Months Later
It had been two months since everything changed between Axel and .
We were back in the pack house now and it felt good again to be back living in luxury. I had begun to once again feel like the girl I used to be. Even now, I was far from being that timid María José.
In two months, I had grown more than I ever had in eighteen years.
The grand ancestral mansion that had belonged to the Blackclaw line for generations had felt more holy than Don Diego’s villa ever could.
Luna Ana was the mother I never had. She’d been so lovely to Camilla and , making the heartbreaks that ca with this place bearable.
This house was filled with history and even heavier with expectations. Although Axel’s mother had welcod us into their ho after the wedding, which, for all its celebration, had felt more like a curated distraction than the start of a marriage, the Alpha was a different case.
He hated because Father hated . He hated for ruining their perfect wedding and reputation in front of all of those Alpha and influential n.
Father loathed for not settling the matter the "family way," forgetting he denounced of the title.
But I didn’t need the love or respect of these two horrible powerful n. Right now, I have all the love I need.
"Almost." Xiomara corrected . "Our mate hates us, María José."
Right. Axel was still... well, how he’d been since the honeymoon.
This had been a constant cause of pain for both Xiomara and . My wolf and I had co to bond over the weeks. She was the best friend I never knew I needed. With her by my side, it was more bearable to watch Axel hate .
We slept in the sa room. We shared the sa bed. But the love that once blood freely between us now felt caged and starved. It peeked out in fleeting monts of tenderness. Sotis in the dark, when our wolves craved each other with such desperate hunger, and we had those unending hot sex, it almost felt like we were back to who we were.
Almost.
But co morning, the silence between us scread louder than words.
Our bond was still strong—too strong for our bodies to stay away, but our hearts were bruised and bleeding. Axel was hurting, and no matter how many tis I whispered that I didn’t lie, no matter how much I reached for him, he pulled away. Not entirely. Just enough to remind that sothing had cracked between us. And it hadn’t healed.
More than anything, I was furious with Ignacio.
He ruined everything.
He stole sothing from ; sothing sacred, sothing I’d saved, and left with a question I might never have answers to. Every ti I looked at Axel, I ached. Not just for what we had lost, but for how much I still loved him. And how much I wished I could go back and undo what Ignacio had done.
But life didn’t stop for heartbreak. Especially not in this house. And Axel, my husband, he protected my secret and handled with so much care and respect in public.
However, being together with him in private was a different case. Sothing I so desperately wanted to and. Yet, I had to be selfless and deal with every single detail left in Rosa’s journal before proceeding to fix my own life.
The Blackclaw ancestral mansion was cold in the mornings. Not physically—no, it had golden-heated floors and fireplaces roaring in nearly every wing. But emotionally and spiritually, the place could chill a soul if they weren’t strong enough.
I had to learn how to be strong.
Stronger than Camilla’s stares across the breakfast table. Stronger than the council’s whispers. Stronger than the suffocating silence that ca from Axel, even when his arm brushed mine in sleep. Even when he held the small of my back in public in a firm and commanding way like nothing was wrong.
But sothing was wrong. So wrong, in fact, I no longer recognized the woman who used to wake up excited just to hear her mate’s voice.
.
.
Living in the pack house ant being watched, judged, and asured. And I had learned to stand taller.
Camilla hadn’t.
My sister had sohow regressed the mont she beca a Luna-in-waiting. She was beautiful, sure. Picture-perfect in photos, all curves and pouts, and expensive skin-care routines. But beyond the filters and flawless makeup, there was very little substance.
Álvaro saw it. He tried not to, but he did.
I caught the way his eyes fixated on when I spoke up during etings. The way he watched when pack mbers ca to instead of his mate for help. And how his jaw tightened every ti soone praised for fighting for justice.
They didn’t understand. I didn’t do it for praise. I did it because no one else would.
After Rosa’s journal, I knew I couldn’t stay silent. Two elders were nad there. Two n who had smiled at us, who had blessed us on our graduation, who had looked us in the eye and lied for years while colluding with witches. They had gambled with the lives of pack mbers like it ant nothing.
So I gathered witnesses. I spoke to the survivors. And I dragged those elders to the Alpha Court myself. Even though I wasn’t a Luna. Even though they told to "stay in my place."
But they underestimated one thing. I had the people. And in a pack, that was everything.
.
.
When we were little, Camilla used to push my face into the mud and tell I looked better that way Now here we were again. Back under the sa roof. Sa blood. Sa face, even—if you looked close enough.
But she hated that.
Camilla hated for still looking like the girl she once controlled and now couldn’t touch. She hated that I had learned to fight, to speak, and lead. That despite being a scarred young woman, a nobody, and once an oga, I had beco sothing she couldn’t fake: beloved.
She was the pregnant one. But I was the people’s voice. The na on their lips. The one who had clawed her way up from nothing. And Camilla? She was still trying to learn how to boil an egg without burning water.
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