Chapter 9 - Nothing More
957 Words
Morning came with no relief.
Elara sensed him before she opened her eyes, the bond tracing his position through the room and keeping him fixed in her awareness no matter where he moved.
When she finally looked up, pale light stretched across the ceiling, the space beside her already empty.
Across the room, Thorne stood near the table, fully dressed, his attention fixed on the maps beneath his hand. He moved with the same steady composure as always, as though the night behind them had never happened.
Elara pushed herself upright and watched him.
He didn’t acknowledge her.
That absence pressed at her more than it should have, stirring irritation she refused to let surface.
She rose and smoothed a hand over her clothes before moving toward the section of the closet set aside for her.
Behind her, the quiet slide of paper broke the silence.
“We need to be downstairs soon. It’s expected of us.”
His voice carried across the room without turning toward her.
Elara rolled her eyes. “And if I don’t care what they expect?”
He turned then, that same hard look settling over his features.
For a brief moment, she wondered whether his expression ever changed, or whether she was the reason it stayed fixed that way.
“Don’t forget your place,” he said. “This is part of your duties.”
Irritation rose faster this time, sharper, harder to contain. A low sound slipped from her before she turned back to the closet.
The bond reacted immediately, tightening between them as their emotions clashed. The sensation dragged beneath her skin, unwelcome and impossible to ignore, forcing awareness where she wanted distance. The thought that it might follow her for the rest of her life pressed in, bringing with it something she refused to name.
She dressed quickly, unwilling to remain in that space longer than necessary.
Neither of them spoke as they left the room.
Silence followed them down the corridor until voices carried low from the level below.
The pack house had already come alive with quiet movement. Conversations threaded through the space, shifting as they moved, attention trailing behind them without needing to be obvious.
They kept distance between them—enough to avoid the appearance of closeness—even as the bond erased any real separation.
When they stepped into the main room, the shift was immediate.
Voices lowered. Movement slowed. Eyes lifted and lingered.
They weren’t being looked at separately.
The focus stayed on them together.
Kaia stood near the long table, posture rigid, her attention locking onto Elara the moment she entered. Rowan leaned slightly against the edge, quiet in his observation, though nothing escaped him. Rafe held his usual place nearby, relaxed in stance, though his gaze moved between them with open interest. Seren remained a little apart from the others, watching without stepping forward.
Rafe spoke first.
“Well,” he said, glancing between them, “you both made it through the night. That’s something.”
Elara’s gaze shifted to him. “Barely.”
His mouth curved faintly. “I’ll take it.”
Kaia didn’t share the tone.
“This isn’t something to treat lightly.”
Rafe glanced sideways at her. “You treat everything like it’s the end of the world.”
“And you don’t take anything seriously enough.”
“That depends.”
Rowan stepped in before it could go further. “That’s enough.”
The room steadied again.
Seren moved a step closer, her voice softer, though it carried.
“You don’t need to prove anything right now,” she said, her gaze resting on Elara. “Just stand where you are.”
Rafe nodded slightly. “Exactly. Let them talk.”
The shift in the air came the moment Thorne moved.
His gaze settled first on Rafe, then on Seren, his expression tightening.
“Neither of you speaks for her,” he said.
The room went quiet.
Seren held her ground. “I wasn’t—”
“You were,” he said, cutting her off without raising his voice.
Rafe straightened, the ease in his posture fading.
Then Thorne’s attention shifted.
To Elara.
The pressure followed immediately, heavier this time.
“Your place here is clear,” he said. “You are here to fulfill your duties as Luna.”
The words struck harder than she expected.
“You will not carry that title as though it places you above anyone in this pack.”
Something tightened in her chest, sharper now.
“As far as I’m concerned,” he continued, “you are here for one purpose.”
Elara held his gaze.
“To give this pack an heir and establish peace.”
His tone carried the same cold certainty as his expression.
“Nothing more.”
Silence followed.
Elara didn’t look away.
Anger rose fast, carrying something deeper beneath it, something that burned past pride.
Thorne’s gaze moved past her then, settling on the rest of the room.
“You will treat her the same as anyone else,” he said. “No exceptions.”
Kaia inclined her head.
Rowan didn’t move.
Rafe’s expression flattened.
Seren remained still, her attention dropping.
Thorne turned away without waiting for a response and moved to the head of the table, sitting with steady, unhurried movements as he reached for a plate.
Elara stared at him, holding herself still even as the tension pressed harder.
Her hands curled slightly at her sides before she stepped forward.
“Is the stick up your ass starting to hurt,” she said, her voice cutting clean through the silence, “or are you used to it by now?”
The room went completely still.
Tension tightened.
And no one moved.
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