Chapter 16 - Lines In The Pack
1327 Words
Elara didn’t stay in the room long.
The silence pressed too tightly around her, leaving her alone with the echo of Thorne’s voice and the memory of the look in his eyes when he caught her in his office. Restlessness crawled beneath her skin, impossible to ignore, and staying still only made it worse.
She stepped into the corridor and drew in a slow breath as cooler air brushed against her face.
The pack house had fallen back into its usual rhythm. Quiet conversations drifted through the halls alongside distant footsteps and the occasional creak of old wood beneath movement. Life carried on around her as though nothing had shifted, while tension still coiled tightly beneath her ribs.
Heading toward the kitchen gave her somewhere else to focus, even if her thoughts kept circling back toward the office.
“Hey.”
Seren’s voice pulled her from her thoughts.
Elara slowed as Seren approached from the opposite corridor, dark curls falling loosely over one shoulder while her sleeves remained pushed halfway up her arms. Relief softened Seren’s expression the moment she saw her.
“You look like you need a distraction,” Seren said lightly.
Elara exhaled quietly.
“You offering one?”
“I’m offering food before Rafe eats everything worth touching.”
The corner of Elara’s mouth twitched despite herself, and she followed Seren toward the kitchen.
Warmth met them immediately once they stepped inside. A few pack members lingered near the far counters, though most barely glanced up before returning to their conversations. The atmosphere felt calmer here, steadier in a way the rest of the house hadn’t managed yet.
Seren moved comfortably through the kitchen, grabbing ingredients with practiced ease while Elara leaned against the counter nearby.
“You want tea too?” Seren asked.
“Depends. Is it actually tea or one of those things that tastes like boiled leaves and regret?”
A laugh slipped out of Seren before she could stop it.
“Rude.”
“Honest.”
Rafe looked up from the island counter where he’d been stealing pieces of fruit from a bowl beside him.
“She’s right,” he said around a bite. “Your tea tastes cursed.”
Seren pointed the spoon at him without turning around.
“You lost kitchen privileges three weeks ago, so your opinion means nothing.”
“I still think revoking them was excessive.”
“You almost burned water.”
“That pot was defective.”
Some of the tightness in Elara’s chest eased while she watched them argue, though her thoughts still drifted back toward the office, toward the files hidden inside Thorne’s desk and the warning in his voice when he told her to stop digging.
“You’ll settle eventually,” Seren said while cutting vegetables. “People here take time adjusting to change.”
“That’s one way to put it.”
Seren glanced toward her briefly.
“You walked into a territory still trying to figure out what peace looks like,” she said. “Nobody really knew what this arrangement would change.”
Rafe snorted quietly.
“That’s putting it nicely.”
Seren shot him a warning look.
“It’s accurate.”
“It’s careful.”
Elara’s gaze drifted toward him.
“And the less careful version?”
Rafe leaned back against the counter.
“The last time the packs got close to—”
“Rafe.”
Seren’s voice cut across the room immediately.
The shift in her tone sharpened the atmosphere enough that even the nearby conversations quieted slightly.
Rafe stopped talking mid-sentence.
For half a second, something unreadable passed between them before Seren turned back toward the stove again. The movement looked casual at first glance, though Elara caught the way Rafe suddenly avoided looking at her.
Interest tightened quietly beneath her ribs.
“The last time what?” she asked carefully.
“Nothing,” Seren answered too quickly.
Rafe rubbed the back of his neck.
“I was just talking.”
“You were saying too much.”
The response came clipped enough to end the conversation.
Silence stretched briefly across the kitchen while Elara watched them both more carefully. Whatever Rafe almost said, Seren clearly hadn’t wanted him finishing it.
Before she could push further, footsteps sounded near the entrance.
Seren’s shoulders stiffened almost immediately.
Elara turned toward the doorway.
The woman standing there paused just inside the room, her attention settling directly onto Elara with calm scrutiny. Her expression gave away very little, though the distance in it felt deliberate.
“So,” the woman said evenly, “you’re settling in faster than I expected.”
Elara straightened slightly.
Seren set the knife down beside the cutting board.
“Marina.”
Something unspoken moved beneath the single word.
Marina stepped farther into the kitchen, dark eyes lingering briefly on Elara before shifting toward Seren.
“I didn’t realize we were hosting dinners now.”
“We’re in the kitchen,” Seren replied flatly. “People eat here.”
A faint smile touched Marina’s mouth, though warmth never reached it.
“Clearly.”
The room had gone quieter around them.
Elara could feel attention turning in their direction without anyone openly staring.
Marina looked back at her again.
“You seem comfortable already.”
The comment sounded polite enough on the surface, though something underneath it felt carefully placed.
Elara held her gaze.
“I’m adapting.”
“Are you?”
Seren sighed softly under her breath.
“Marina.”
Marina ignored her completely.
“I just expected more distance, considering the situation.”
The words sounded measured enough that Elara caught the meaning immediately.
This had nothing to do with jealousy.
Marina sounded like someone looking at plans that had been rearranged without her permission.
Seren stepped forward slightly.
“That’s enough.”
Marina finally looked at her.
“You know I’m right.”
“I know you’re making this harder than it needs to be.”
A flicker of irritation crossed Marina’s face before disappearing again.
“Elara didn’t create this situation,” Seren continued.
“No,” Marina replied calmly. “But she’s still part of it.”
Silence stretched across the kitchen while Rafe suddenly looked very interested in the fruit bowl again.
Elara pushed away from the counter slowly.
“If you’ve got something to say, say it directly.”
Marina studied her for a second longer before her gaze shifted briefly toward the bond mark near Elara’s collarbone.
“You’re standing in a place people spent years preparing for,” she said quietly. “Adjustment takes time.”
Understanding moved uneasily through Elara’s chest.
Seren’s expression tightened immediately.
“Marina.”
“I’m being honest.”
“You’re being unfair.”
Marina folded her arms loosely.
“Those usually sound the same depending on who’s listening.”
The kitchen had gone completely silent.
Elara finally understood why Seren stiffened the moment Marina walked in.
This woman belonged here in ways Elara still didn’t.
That realization pulled painfully through her chest.
“I’m not interested in fighting with you,” Elara said finally.
Marina’s expression barely shifted.
“I didn’t say you were.”
The meaning beneath the answer tightened the atmosphere all over again.
Exhaustion dragged heavier through Elara’s chest. She had no energy left for another confrontation tonight.
Without another word, she turned toward the door.
“Elara,” Seren called after her softly.
“I’m fine.”
The lie came easily enough that nobody challenged it.
She stepped into the corridor and kept walking.
The walls started closing in again almost immediately.
By the time she reached the exit, she barely slowed before pushing through the doors and stepping outside.
Cool air hit her face hard enough to loosen some of the pressure twisting through her chest.
She kept walking anyway, putting distance between herself and the pack house while the conversation replayed endlessly in her head.
Especially the part Rafe never finished.
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