THE CURSED HEIRESS

Chapter Five

POV: Silver Colt

The Slawcrest Packhouse was quieter than usual that afternoon. Even the hallways, usually filled with the chatter of omegas cleaning or warriors stomping in from training, seemed to hold their breath. My footsteps echoed against the polished wooden floor as I carried the laundry basket toward the servants’ quarters. The scent of fresh pine drifted in from the open windows, mingling with the faint, sweet aroma of lavender soap.

Although the decree of my banishment came from Volvo, but seeing me leave couldn’t be bearable to him. All was based on pack pressure.

“No…” he screamed, voice cutting through the already tensed air. “I can’t see Silver just leave like that.”

It should have been peaceful, but it wasn’t.

The rejection still clung to me like a second skin—Alpha Volvo’s cold words replayed over and over in my head like a cruel mantra I couldn’t silence. Even days later, my chest ached as though my wolf and I had both been branded with those three words: I reject you.

I had been avoiding the great hall, the training grounds, even the gardens where humans lived. A place totally all different from my origin. Yes. I have been banished, but I couldn't keep my hopes flat.

Everywhere I went, I could still feel eyes on me—curious, judgmental, and pitying. Some warriors smirked when I passed, others whispered just loud enough for me to hear. Omegas, my supposed equals, now treated me like I carried some infectious curse.

And then… there was Amelia.

The only one who didn’t look at me with disgust or pity? The one person whose smile didn’t feel like a mask—at least, not to me.

I found her in the sunroom, lounging on the cushioned bench by the tall glass windows, a book in her lap. The late afternoon light caught her hair, turning the soft brown into warm honey streaks. She looked up as I entered, and that familiar, warm smile spread across her face.

“Silver,” she said gently, as though my name were something fragile. “I was hoping you’d come.”

I tried to match her smile, but it felt awkward on my lips. I didn’t mean to intrude. I was just—”

“You in your right sense should know that’s nonsense,” she interrupted, patting the space beside her. “You never intrude. Now sit.”

With the somewhat last ounce of confidence I still had, I asked, “But what’re you doing here, Amelia.”

“Hey,” she snapped, “Wake up girl. Wake up. I am still the Amelia you know and stop asking stupid questions.”

“Alright.”

“Let’s get back to business matters.”

I obeyed, setting the laundry basket aside. The sunroom had always been my favorite place in the packhouse—a little bubble of calm, with ivy creeping up the outside of the glass and the sound of leaves rustling in the wind beyond. Amelia slid the book onto the small side table.

“You’ve been hiding,” she said softly, not as an accusation, but as a statement of fact.

My throat tightened. “I just… didn’t want to make things harder for anyone. The Alpha…” I trailed off, my voice breaking.

Her hand found mine, cool fingers curling around my own. “You’ve been through something unbearable, Silver. You don’t have to pretend you’re fine with me.”

It was those words—so simple, so kind—that made something inside me crack. I swallowed hard against the rush of tears, focusing instead on the gentle squeeze of her hand. Amelia always had that way about her, as if she saw through the shields I tried to put up, but in this case all I saw was an indifferent and cold part of her.

“He didn’t even give me a chance,” I whispered. “He looked at me like I was nothing. Like I wasn’t even worth the trouble of considering.”

Her eyes softened. “It's something deep inside of me though, but I would say that sometimes Volvo acts like a fool. Anyone with half a brain can see your worth.” She brushed a strand of hair behind my ear, her voice low, almost conspiratorial. “Don’t let him take the light from you.”

For a moment, I believed her. I believed that maybe—just maybe—someone truly saw me.

We talked for a while after that, though I did most of the listening. Amelia had a way of weaving stories about the world beyond the pack, and now we finding ourselves in another man’s land—the hidden valleys, the human towns buzzing with life, the ancient forests where magic still lingered. Her words painted pictures so vivid I almost forgot where I was, almost forgot the ache in my chest.

But there were moments—tiny flickers—when something strange crossed her face. A faint tightening at the corner of her mouth when she spoke of Volvo, a shadow in her gaze when she mentioned my parents. It was gone as quickly as it came, and I told myself I imagined it.

As the sun dipped lower, the light shifted, casting long shadows across the floor. I realized I’d been sitting there for hours.

“I should go,” I murmured, rising reluctantly. “I still have a lot of chores.”

Amelia stood too, brushing invisible dust from her dress. “Let me walk you out.”

Alright.” I replied, although this was quite not the Amelia I was already used to.

We moved through the dim hallway, the fading sunlight catching in her hair. At the doorway, she stopped me with a gentle hand on my arm.

“You’re stronger than you think, Silver,” she said, her smile warm but her eyes unreadable. “One day, you’ll understand all this I have been trying to say.”

I nodded, unsure of how to respond. “Thank you, Amelia… for everything.”

She stepped back, letting me pass, “Don’t be acting all respectful. You and I know that is not who you really are.” her smile lingering as I turned away.

What I didn’t see—what I couldn’t see—was the way that smile shifted the moment my back was turned. The warmth drained from her eyes, replaced by a cold, calculating gleam. Her lips curved into something sharper, something that wasn’t meant for me to witness.

“Soon,” she whispered to herself, the word laced with a promise only she understood.

Outside, the wind picked up, rattling the ivy against the glass. I felt a sudden chill brush the back of my neck, but I told myself it was only the evening air.

I didn’t know that at that very moment, the first threads of my undoing were already being woven… by the very hands I thought were holding me together.