Chapter 2
1526 Words
Selena’s POV
The driver Nikos sent was already waiting outside by the time I dragged my last suitcase down the stairs.
Not a single sound came from Leonidas’s bedroom.
No footsteps.
No door opening.
No final word.
Nothing to show he even cared that I was leaving.
The house felt silent. Empty. Cold.
The driver, a tall man named Andreas, stepped forward politely. “Shall I help you, Miss Selena?”
“It’s fine,” I said softly.
There was something about carrying my own things that made it real. Final. Like this decision belonged to me.
He loaded all five suitcases and my carry on into the trunk while I stood outside the massive gates of the estate.
The Silver Crest Pack headquarters.
The place that had been my prison for three years.
From the outside, it looked perfect. Tall white pillars. Wide balconies. A view of the Aegean Sea stretching endlessly under the sun. The kind of place people admired from a distance.
But I knew the truth.
It was a cage.
I wasn’t ready to get into the car yet.
My feet refused to move.
I stared at the house.
The balcony I was never allowed to sit on.
The garden I was not allowed to touch because Leonidas once said the gardener felt uncomfortable with me around.
The dining hall where I ate alone.
Every corner of that estate carried a memory.
Still, a foolish part of me waited.
I waited for him.
I do not even know why.
Maybe I hoped he would run out, eyes wild, telling me this was all a mistake. Maybe he would say the divorce was anger speaking. Maybe he would finally admit he could not let me go.
Maybe he would ask me to stay.
But deep down, I knew better.
Leonidas was not coming.
There would be no dramatic confession. No last minute redemption.
He hated me.
That had never changed.
I took one last look at the estate before sliding into the backseat. The door shut quietly, and Andreas pulled away.
As the golden gates grew smaller behind us, I leaned my head against the window.
I was free now.
Free from the accusations.
From the cold silence.
From the manipulation.
From the constant reminder that I was unwanted.
But the strange thing about being trapped for so long was that freedom felt unfamiliar.
Almost wrong.
I should have felt lighter.
Instead, I felt empty.
Numb.
Maybe the emotions would come later. Maybe everything would crash into me all at once. I did not know.
But I knew one thing.
As long as I had my child, I would survive.
I first met Leonidas when I was five years old. He was seven. Taller. Quieter. Always serious.
Our fathers were pack leaders and business partners. My father, Stavros Demetriou, Alpha of the Athenian Moon Pack. His father, Alexandros Volakis, former Alpha of Silver Crest.
Our families spent holidays together. Summers in Mykonos. Winters in Thessaloniki. Pack festivals under the full moon.
He was always there.
Always part of my life.
I do not remember when things changed.
I just remember being sixteen during one of our pack retreats in Nafplio. I was learning to ride properly in wolf training form. I almost slipped, and Leonidas caught my hand.
The moment our fingers touched, something shifted.
My heart started beating differently around him.
What began as childhood comfort slowly became something deeper. Stronger. I started imagining a future with him. Not just as pack allies.
As mates.
I thought he felt it too.
How could he not? We had grown up together. We understood each other without speaking.
But everything shattered the day he introduced Calista.
I remember it clearly.
He brought her to one of my father’s corporate pack luncheons in Athens. She was beautiful in a soft way. Brown curls. Smooth skin. Warm smile.
She held onto Leonidas’s arm like she belonged there.
And everyone loved her.
At first, I told myself I was just jealous. That was natural. I had loved Leonidas quietly for years.
But the more I watched her, the more something felt wrong.
She was too perfect.
Too agreeable.
She never had her own opinion. She just nodded and smiled at whatever anyone said. It felt rehearsed.
Like she wore a mask.
And no one saw it.
Especially not Leonidas.
He was completely enchanted.
He defended her constantly. Praised her. Looked at her like she was the only woman in the room.
It drove me crazy.
So I reacted.
Petty at first.
Cold looks. Backhanded compliments. Asking her about her dress and pretending to forget where she bought it seconds later. Offering to help her prepare for events and subtly making things difficult.
I never touched her. Never threatened her.
But I made sure she knew I did not like her.
It still was not enough.
Because every time I tried to expose her, she flipped the situation.
She played the victim perfectly.
And Leonidas would look at me with that disappointed expression.
That look hurt more than anything.
One time, during a summer pool party at Leonidas’s estate in Mykonos, Calista almost slipped near the deep end.
She did not even fall.
She barely lost her balance.
But I laughed.
Loudly.
And I said something cruel about how even the ground must reject fake people.
The music stopped.
Everyone stared.
Leonidas’s face turned cold immediately.
Calista’s eyes filled with tears. She ran inside like she had just been attacked.
And just like that, I became the villain in everyone’s story.
But the worst thing I ever did happened on Leonidas’s birthday.
It was a massive event. Alphas from different territories came. Business partners. Investors. Pack elders. The entire Aegean wolf elite.
Champagne flowed. Live band. Security everywhere.
And I planned something stupid.
Jealousy makes you reckless.
I hired a man to pretend to be one of the event staff. During dinner, he walked up to Calista with a silver tray. On it was a printed photo.
A fake photo.
It showed Calista leaving a hotel in Thessaloniki with the same man.
The image was edited. Not real.
Under it was a small note.
Still think she is perfect?
Calista gasped so loudly that people turned.
The music slowed.
Leonidas saw the photo.
His face changed instantly.
He did not shout.
That was worse.
Later that night, he found me near the pool.
“I warned you,” he said quietly.
His voice was calm, but his wolf was right under the surface. I could feel the tension in the air.
I crossed my arms and forced a smile.
“You should thank me. I am saving you from a fraud.”
“Apologize,” he said.
“Right now.”
I lifted my chin. “No.”
He looked at me for a long moment.
Then he said the words that changed everything.
“Then we are done.”
My heart stopped.
“What?”
“We are done, Selena. Do not call me. Do not text me. I do not want anything to do with you ever again.”
And he walked away.
I thought he would calm down in a few days.
He did not.
He blocked my number.
His Beta, Andreas, refused my calls. His assistant ignored my messages. I sent flowers. I sent letters. I even went to the pack gates once.
He never responded.
I could not eat. I barely slept. I started to realize how far I had gone.
Jealousy had turned me into someone ugly.
I wanted to fix it.
So I sent one final message through his assistant saying I was ready to apologize.
Before he replied, the news broke.
Leonidas had proposed to Calista.
I remember staring at the announcement on the Pack Network.
Future Luna of Silver Crest.
I felt something inside me collapse.
I locked myself in my room for three days.
When the wedding invitation arrived a week later, it felt like someone had punched me in the chest.
Gold embossed. Elegant. Perfect.
I sat on my bed holding it, crying.
If I could not be his mate, maybe I could at least fix the damage I caused.
So I did something I never thought I would do.
I called Calista.
And I asked to meet.
We met at a small café in Athens near Kolonaki Square. A quiet place I used to love.
I wore simple clothes. No jewelry. No pride.
When she arrived, she smiled softly.
I apologized.
Truly apologized.
For everything.
She took my hand and told me she understood. She said she kne
w jealousy could make people act out. She said she would talk to Leonidas. She said she would tell him how sincere I was.
She even hugged me before we left.
I walked away thinking maybe, just maybe, things could be repaired.
But if I had known what would happen next…
If I had known that weeks later Calista would die in a car crash on a cliffside road in Santorini…
And that an anonymous message would blame me for it…
I would have never made that call.
- Writer
