Chapter 5
1091 Words
There was only one day left.
The thought followed Irene from the moment she woke up, pressing gently against her chest like a reminder she couldn’t ignore. Tomorrow night, everything would change, or it wouldn’t. Either way, waiting was almost worse than knowing.
She lay still for a few moments, staring at the ceiling of her room, listening to the early sounds of the pack waking. Footsteps passed her door. Someone laughed outside. Life went on as if the world wasn’t holding its breath.
Sebastian hadn’t come to see her.
She told herself not to read into it.
He was probably busy. The pack was restless, elders were demanding, and everyone had responsibilities. Still, the quiet absence tugged at her nerves.
Irene dressed quickly and left her room before her thoughts could spiral.
If she stayed busy, she wouldn’t think.
She spent the morning helping in the kitchens, scrubbing pots, preparing meals, carrying supplies from one end of the hall to the other. Her hands moved on instinct, her body following routines she had known for years.
Still, she kept glancing toward the door.
Sebastian didn’t appear.
By midday, she moved on to sorting herbs, then assisting one of the elders with records. She nodded, smiled, worked hard, and kept her head down.
Avoid problems. Avoid questions.
That had always been her way.
It was while she was carrying a basket of folded cloths toward the storage rooms that she saw her mother.
Mara stood near the back entrance, speaking quietly with another omega. Her hair, streaked with gray now, was tied back simply. When she noticed Irene, her expression softened.
“Irene,” she called gently.
Irene slowed. “Mama.”
Mara dismissed the other omega and walked toward her daughter, her eyes searching Irene’s face with the ease of someone who had done so her entire life.
“You look tired,” Mara said.
“I’m fine,” Irene replied quickly.
Her mother didn’t argue. She never did. Instead, she took the basket from Irene’s hands and set it aside.
“You’ve been keeping busy,” Mara observed.
“Yes.”
Mara hesitated, then spoke carefully. “Tomorrow is a big night.”
Irene stiffened. “I know.”
Mara’s voice lowered. “I just want you to remember something.”
Irene already knew what was coming.
“Hope is a beautiful thing,” her mother said softly. “But it can also hurt if we let it grow too high.”
Something hot flared in Irene’s chest.
“Mama—”
“Irene,” Mara interrupted gently, “I’ve seen too many omegas break their own hearts by expecting fate to be kind.”
Irene’s hands clenched. “So what am I supposed to do? Expect nothing?”
“Protect yourself,” Mara replied. “Just in case.”
Anger surged before Irene could stop it.
“I’m not a child,” she said sharply. “And I’m not weak.”
“I never said you were,” her mother replied calmly.
“It feels like you think I am,” Irene snapped. “Like I shouldn’t hope for good things.”
Mara sighed. “That’s not what I meant.”
But Irene had already turned away.
“I have work to do,” she said, her voice tight.
She walked off before her mother could respond, her heart pounding, anger and hurt tangling together.
Why couldn’t anyone just let her believe?
She left the main hall, her steps quickening as she moved toward the quieter paths near the edge of the territory. The air felt heavy, her thoughts loud and restless.
She wasn’t watching where she was going.
She walked straight into someone solid.
“Oof, I’m so sorry,” Irene blurted out, stumbling back.
Strong hands steadied her immediately.
“It’s alright,” a deep voice said.
She looked up and froze.
Elvis.
Sebastian’s older brother.
The future alpha.
The man everyone respected.
Irene straightened instantly, her heart leaping into her throat. “I—I apologize, Alpha Elvis. I wasn’t paying attention.”
Elvis studied her quietly. He was taller than Sebastian, broader too, with calm eyes that missed very little. There was no sharpness in his expression, only steady control.
“You don’t need to call me that,” he said. “Just Elvis is fine.”
She nodded quickly. “Yes. I mean thank you.”
He tilted his head slightly. “You seem… upset.”
The question caught her completely off guard.
“Me?” she asked.
“Yes,” he said simply. “Your thoughts are loud.”
Irene stared at him, stunned.
Why would he ask her that?
Of all people.
“I’m fine,” she said automatically.
Elvis didn’t push. He only gestured toward the path. “Walk with me.”
She hesitated, then obeyed. Respect came easily when it came to him.
They walked side by side in silence for a few moments.
Finally, Irene spoke. “I was just… overwhelmed.”
He nodded once. “That happens before big days.”
She glanced at him. “You know?”
A faint smile touched his lips. “Everyone knows.”
She swallowed. “My mother thinks I shouldn’t hope too much.”
Elvis said nothing, but he listened.
“She thinks I’ll get hurt,” Irene continued, surprised by her own honesty. “But I don’t think hoping is wrong.”
“It isn’t,” he said quietly.
She looked at him again, surprised by the gentleness in his tone.
“I believe love doesn’t need fate to be real,” she added, her voice softer now. “I believe it can exist on its own.”
Elvis kept his gaze forward. “That’s a rare belief.”
She shrugged. “Maybe.”
They reached the point where the paths split.
Elvis stopped.
Irene waited.
He didn’t say anything else.
No comfort. No advice. No reassurance.
Just silence.
After a moment, he inclined his head slightly. “Take care, Irene.”
She blinked. “You too… Elvis.”
He turned and walked away.
Irene stood there for a long moment, staring after him, her thoughts spinning.
Why would he ask?
Why listen so carefully and then say nothing at all?
She returned to her room slowly, her earlier anger replaced by confusion.
As she lay on her bed that night, staring at the ceiling, her thoughts drifted between Sebastian’s absence, her mother’s warning, and Elvis’s quiet attention.
Tomorrow was the night.
And suddenly, waiting felt heavier than ever.
- Writer
