He Rejected The Wrong Wolf

Chapter 17

Brielle’s POV

By late afternoon, the idea of leaving had somehow stopped feeling hypothetical.

The open suitcase sitting on Brielle’s bed made it feel real in a way nothing else had yet. Clothes were scattered across the blankets in uneven piles while Wren moved around the room with the kind of chaotic energy that usually meant she’d already made three decisions without consulting anyone first.

“You fold like you’re emotionally offended by fabric,” Wren informed her from the floor where she sat digging through a backpack.

Brielle looked down at the sweater in her hands. “I’m packing.”

“You’re aggressively packing.”

“That’s not a thing.”

“It absolutely is.”

Despite herself, Brielle laughed quietly under her breath before tossing the sweater into the suitcase anyway. Sunlight filtered warmly through the bedroom windows, catching dust in the air while music played softly from Wren’s phone somewhere near the desk. The room smelled faintly like coffee and laundry detergent, grounding enough that for the first time since the party, Brielle almost felt normal again.

Almost.

Until voices drifted faintly from the hallway outside.

The second someone laughed quietly followed by the words “the chandelier girl,” the fragile calm cracked immediately.

Wren’s expression flattened before Brielle could even react. “See?” she muttered. “This is exactly why we’re leaving.”

Brielle exhaled slowly and looked back down at the suitcase. The gossip had somehow gotten worse throughout the day instead of fading. Every time she left her room, conversations shifted. People stared openly now, curiosity replacing the indifference she’d spent most of her life getting used to.

Before the rejection, most people barely noticed her.

Now suddenly everyone did.

It was exhausting.

“We should leave tomorrow morning,” Wren announced, shoving another shirt into her own bag.

Brielle glanced toward her. “You’ve turned this into an actual operation disturbingly fast.”

“That’s because if we wait too long, someone’s going to ruin it.”

“You say that like we’re escaping prison.”

Wren looked up immediately. “Emotionally? We are.”

That pulled another laugh out of Brielle before she could stop it.

The truth was, the more time passed, the more the idea of leaving actually appealed to her. Earlier that morning it had still felt impulsive and slightly ridiculous.

Now staying sounded worse.

A knock sounded against the partially open bedroom door before either of them could say anything else.

Alaric leaned casually against the frame a second later, one hand tucked into the pocket of his jeans while his gaze moved slowly across the room. His attention lingered briefly on the open suitcases before settling back on them.

“…Why does it look like you two are preparing to disappear into the wilderness?”

“Because we are,” Wren answered immediately.

Brielle pointed toward her without looking up from the suitcase. “See? Dramatic.”

Alaric ignored both comments completely as he stepped inside the room. Unlike Wren and Caelan, who tended to fill every space they entered with noise and energy, Alaric had always been calmer somehow. Steadier. Even now, standing in the middle of the chaos Wren had created across the floor, he looked completely unbothered by it.

“You’re serious about leaving?” he asked.

Wren sat up straighter immediately. “Very.”

His attention shifted toward Brielle then, quieter and more thoughtful. “The capital?”

Brielle blinked once. “How did you know that?”

“You and Wren have been talking about moving there since you were kids.”

“That’s fair,” Wren admitted.

Alaric crossed farther into the room, stopping near the end of the bed. “Did you already talk to Grandma and Grandpa?”

Wren grinned proudly.

“I called Grandma earlier.”

Brielle’s head snapped toward her. “You what?”

“You were in the shower,” Wren replied like that explained everything.

“That’s not the point.”

“She said we can stay as long as we want.”

Of course she did.

Brielle rubbed tiredly at her forehead while Wren looked entirely too pleased with herself.

“She also said,” Wren continued dramatically, “‘if the territory is getting annoying again, come immediately before your grandfather starts pretending he doesn’t miss you.’”

A laugh escaped Brielle before she could stop it.

Because honestly?

That sounded exactly like them.

Even Alaric smiled faintly at that, subtle enough most people probably wouldn’t have noticed it.

“He absolutely misses you two,” he admitted.

“Please,” Wren said. “That man cries during documentaries about dogs.”

“He does not cry.”

“He got emotional over a golden retriever reunion video last winter.”

“That was different.”

“How?”

Alaric opened his mouth like he actually intended to argue the point before apparently deciding against it.

Brielle shook her head, smiling despite herself as the tension in the room eased slightly. It felt good. Normal. Like things hadn’t become painfully awkward and emotionally complicated overnight.

Then Alaric looked toward Brielle again, his expression growing more serious.

“Honestly,” he said quietly, “leaving for a while probably isn’t a bad idea.”

The amusement faded from her face slightly at his tone.

“You think it’s gotten that bad?”

Alaric hesitated briefly before answering. “I think people are paying too much attention to you right now.”

That matched exactly how she’d been feeling all day.

Watched.

Observed.

Discussed.

It made her want to crawl out of her own skin.

“Caelan’s making it worse too,” Wren muttered.

Alaric sighed immediately. “Wren.”

“No, I’m serious,” she continued. “Half her friends are acting like Brielle personally ruined the entire party.”

Brielle frowned slightly. “I literally shoved someone out of the way of a falling chandelier.”

“Yes,” Wren said flatly. “And somehow Caelan still found a way to become emotionally affected by it.”

“That sounds accurate,” Alaric admitted under his breath.

Brielle laughed quietly again, softer this time.

Maybe leaving really was the right decision.

The thought settled more firmly in her chest as she glanced toward the suitcase sitting open across the bed.

Tomorrow.

By tomorrow night, they could already be gone.

The realization felt strange.

Big.

But not bad.

For the first time in days, the pressure sitting constantly in her chest loosened slightly.

Then movement outside the bedroom caught her attention.

A few wolves passed through the hallway beyond the open door, their voices low enough that Brielle normally wouldn’t have paid attention.

Except one sentence carried clearly through the conversation anyway.

“…Thaddeus apparently lost it when he heard she was leaving…”

The voices faded before she caught anything else.

But it was enough.

Wren slowly looked toward her, eyes widening slightly.

“Oh,” she said carefully. “So he knows now.”

And judging by the uneasy feeling settling low in Brielle’s stomach—

That was probably going to become a problem.