Chapter Five
658 Words
"Nothing, Grant. You heard wrong."
I kept my eyes down, my voice steady as still water.
His brow creased, probably thinking I was just sulking about heading back to my family's den. His tone softened a touch. "It was chaos back there. I only had time to save one of you."
He pulled a few small porcelain bottles from his sleeve and set them by my pillow. "Use these daily. They'll help your wounds heal faster."
I stared at the delicate vials, a bitter laugh bubbling up inside. "No thanks."
"Don't be stubborn," he said, his voice firm. "They're good for you."
I went quiet for a moment. He rarely showed me this kind of care.
But then he spoke again.
"Delilah's shaken up. The healer says she needs daily hot spring baths to recover. Your courtyard has the spring. For now, you'll swap places with her.” I snapped my eyes up to meet his.
Of course. His rare concern wasn't for me—it was a stepping stone for Delilah.
"Is there anything you wouldn't give her if she wanted it?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
"Never," he said without hesitation.
"She's everything to me."
A hollow smile curved my lips. "Fine. I'll move."
He blinked, clearly not expecting me to give in so easily. He opened his mouth to say something, but urgent footsteps interrupted.
"General! Delilah's having chest pains. She's asking for you!"
He spun on his heel and strode out without a backward glance.
I watched his shadow vanish, whispering to myself, "Doesn't matter… I'm leaving soon."
What's one courtyard? I'd give it up.
With Nora's help, I packed my gilded jewelry box, the lotus-embroidered curtains, and every piece of my dowry, clearing out the main quarters that should've been mine as the pack's she-wolf. I handed it all over to Delilah.
Once I settled into the side courtyard, I caught the servants' hushed gossip drifting through the walls. "Grant took Delilah to the jade shop today. Heard she's got her eye on a pair of emerald bangles."
"Day before, he was picking out her new dress, fussing over every detail, even the embroidery on the cuffs."
"Yesterday, Delilah mentioned craving plum blossom cakes, and Grant had someone out before dawn to fetch them.” Nora fumed, but I just sat there, stitching a handkerchief, my needle moving in steady, even strokes, matching the calm in my heart.
Christmas Eve came, and the estate was decked out in lights, filled with laughter and cheer. I turned in early, curling up in bed.
In my dreams, I was still the Carmichael pack's prized she-wolf, draped for my binding ceremony, walking toward my mate as the crowd cheered. Grant's eyes were soft, warm. But when I reached for his face, the dream shattered.
Bang!
The window flew open, icy wind carrying the sharp scent of gunpowder. I jolted awake as a burst of fireworks lit up the night sky.
"Helena, we're setting off fireworks!" Delilah's sugary voice called from the courtyard. "Grant says we're celebrating big tonight!"
I frowned. "It's late. I'm trying to sleep."
"Oh, come on, Helena, don't be such a buzzkill," she teased, sweeping in with a gaggle of maids and servants.
The courtyard exploded into chaos. Fireworks and firecrackers were tossed everywhere, some landing in my room. Sparks hit the curtains, and thick smoke choked the air, stinging my eyes. I tried to stop them, but a maid barreled into me, knocking me to the ground. Pain shot through my wrist.
"Oops!" Delilah stepped over me, her embroidered shoe grinding into my fingers as she stood. "Helena, you've gotta be more careful. Let me help you up."
"Get out!" I hissed through gritted teeth.
She didn't budge.
As we tussled, someone—maybe her, maybe not—knocked over a candelabra. Flames roared to life, devouring the room in seconds.
"Help! Fire!" Delilah's scream echoed through the chaos.
- Writer
