His Broken Mate

Chapter Two: Cracks in the Glass

Athena trailed behind her mother through the mall like a ghost wrapped in denim and indifference, while the other pack members carried on, obeying orders and hauling everything else needed for the party. Athena couldn’t help but wonder why exactly she had been dragged along when her mom had a hundred others ready to help. It’s not like Athena knew a single thing about royal parties—she never attended any unless she had to.

“Keep up, will you?” her mother said, arms already full of shopping bags. “You walk like the world’s ending.”

Well, it certainly feels like it, Athena thought.

The air-conditioned chill didn’t help her exhaustion. She rubbed her arms as they passed another row of stores, their bright displays buzzing with an energy she didn’t share. Mothers dragging toddlers, couples laughing over overpriced smoothies, music playing faintly through hidden speakers—life pulsing on, oblivious to the slow spiral unraveling inside her.

Her mom was practically glowing. She stopped to admire a navy dress in the window.

“This would look stunning on you at the Summit,” she said.

“I’m not wearing anything sleeveless,” Athena muttered.

“You’re young. Let the world see your arms while they still look like that.”

Athena gave her a half-hearted glare. “That’s such a weird thing to say.”

Her mother grinned. “Weird and right.”

They moved along. Her mom made jokes, asked about her speech for the coronation, and tried to pull her into a shoe store Athena pretended not to see. But every time her mother’s voice trailed off, the silence in Athena’s mind rang louder.

She hadn’t told her about the nightmares.

She hadn’t told anyone.

The dreams always started with howls. Deep, broken ones that echoed through trees darker than any she’d seen before. In them, she was always alone. No Nyt. No pack. No moon.

The last time she’d woken up, her pillow had been soaked, and her hands were shaking.

She tried to laugh at one of her mother’s jokes—really tried. But it came out hollow, like a cracked bell.

They entered a boutique that smelled like vanilla and artificial calm. Her mother held up two shirts.

“This or this?”

Athena stared at them like they were weapons, not clothes.

“Whichever,” she said.

Her mom’s eyes softened. “You’ve been quiet lately.”

“I’m tired.”

“You were up at the cliff again, weren’t you?”

Athena looked away.

“I know you miss him,” her mother said quietly. “You two aren’t even separated yet, and you already act like you’ve lost something.”

Athena didn’t answer. She couldn’t say, I think something’s going to happen. I feel it in my skin. I dream it every night.

So instead, she said, “We’re twins. It’s not that deep.”

Her mother sighed but didn’t press. She turned away, folding the shirt over her arm. “Let’s get some food.”

As they made their way toward the food court, Athena’s phone buzzed.

1 new message from Nyt.

U survived? Or do I send a search party?

Her lips twitched—almost a smile. She typed back:

> I’m going to kill you for faking sick.

> Fair. But you love me.

> Unfortunately.

She slipped the phone back into her pocket and paused. A cold shiver crept up her spine—sudden and sharp. She turned, scanning the crowd. Nothing out of place. Children tugging at balloons, teenagers laughing, a man sneezing into his elbow.

But the feeling stayed.

A pressure.

Like something watching.

Waiting.

Athena shook it off. “Let’s eat,” she said.

But in the back of her mind, she was already planning how fast she could get home.

And in the shadows of her thoughts, the howling had already begun.

Maybe… she should go to school instead.