MATES
2176 Words
ELARA
I should have kept walking.
Should have pretended I saw nothing.
But I didn’t.
And now—
They know.
—
“Careless.”
The word is soft.
Dangerously soft.
I don’t turn around.
I don’t need to.
I recognize his voice.
Henry.
“And foolish,” Bella adds, her tone colder than I’ve ever heard it.
Slowly, I turn to face them.
They stand too close together.
Too calm.
Like nothing happened.
Like I imagined it.
But I didn’t.
“I didn’t see anything,” I say quickly.
A lie.
A useless one.
Bella smiles.
Not kindly.
“You did,” she says. “And now you’ll forget.”
My fingers curl at my sides.
“I don’t talk,” I reply.
Henry studies me, his gaze sharp, calculating.
“I know,” he says quietly. “That’s why you’re still alive.”
A chill runs through me.
Bella steps closer.
“If a single word leaves your mouth…” she leans in slightly, her voice dropping to a whisper, “you won’t survive the consequences.”
I hold her gaze.
Not submissive.
Not challenging.
Just… still.
“I understand.”
She watches me for a moment longer, then straightens.
“Good.”
They leave like nothing happened.
Like they didn’t just threaten my life.
Like I’m nothing more than dust beneath their feet.
—
Night falls heavy over the pack.
Sleep doesn’t come.
It never really does anymore.
So I move.
Quietly.
Restlessly.
Trying to outrun thoughts that won’t leave me alone.
That’s when I feel it again.
That pull.
Stronger now.
Insistent.
I don’t fight it.
I follow it.
It leads me through the quieter wing of the pack house… toward the guest quarters.
Toward him.
I shouldn’t go closer.
I know that.
But my feet don’t listen.
They never do when it comes to this.
I stop just outside the slightly open door.
Voices drift through.
Claire’s.
Soft.
Almost… sweet.
“I came to see you,” she murmurs.
There’s a pause.
Then movement.
I don’t look.
I shouldn’t look.
But I do.
Just enough to understand.
She’s close to him.
Too close.
Touching him like she already belongs there.
Like she’s claiming something.
My chest tightens.
Something sharp and unfamiliar twisting inside me.
I don’t understand it.
I don’t want to.
Scavia goes still.
Completely still.
Then—
Everything changes.
He pulls back.
Abrupt.
“Enough.”
His voice is low.
Tense.
Claire freezes, confusion flashing across her face.
“What—?”
That’s when his gaze shifts.
Past her.
To the door.
To me.
My breath catches.
For a moment—
Everything stops.
Then he moves.
Fast.
Pushing Claire aside as he steps toward me.
“Elara—”
I don’t wait.
I turn and run.
Again.
Because this—
This is worse than before.
This is dangerous in ways I don’t understand yet.
Behind me, I hear him call my name.
Footsteps follow.
But I’m already gone.
Slipping through shadows.
Disappearing into the parts of the pack that no one pays attention to.
By the time he reaches the corridor—
I’m not there.
—
I don’t go back right away.
I stay hidden.
Curled into myself in a dark corner of the servants’ quarters, trying to steady my breathing.
Trying to make sense of what I felt.
That pull.
That anger.
That… hurt.
Why did it hurt?
I shake my head.
It doesn’t matter.
None of it does.
I just need to survive.
—
I return to my room late.
Too late.
The moment I step inside—
I know I’m not alone.
The air shifts.
Cold.
Hostile.
The door slams shut behind me.
I barely have time to turn before—
Pain explodes across my face.
I hit the ground hard.
Claire.
“You think you can run?” she snaps, grabbing my hair and yanking me up.
My vision blurs.
“I—I didn’t—”
Another strike.
Sharper.
Harder.
“Don’t lie!” she shouts. “I saw the way he looked at you!”
My body reacts.
Instinct rising.
My wolf surges forward—
Ready.
Angry.
Dangerous.
Fight.
End this.
But I force it back.
No.
If I fight—
If I lose control—
I might hurt her.
And that would be worse.
Much worse.
So I don’t move.
I don’t defend myself.
I take it.
Every hit.
Every shove.
Every ounce of her anger.
“You’re nothing!” she spits, striking me again. “A servant! Trash!”
Pain burns through me.
But I stay still.
Silent.
Unmoving.
And somehow—
That makes her angrier.
Her hits become frantic.
Messy.
Desperate.
Until finally—
She stops.
Breathing hard.
Shaking.
She shoves me one last time, sending me collapsing to the floor.
“Stay away from him,” she warns.
Then she’s gone.
The door slams.
Silence returns.
I don’t move for a long time.
Blood stains the floor beneath me.
My body aches.
Bruises already forming.
But my eyes…
They burn.
Not with tears.
With something else.
Something dangerous.
—
Morning comes too soon.
I force myself up.
Clean what I can.
Hide what I can’t.
But it’s not enough.
Not this time.
When I enter the main hall—
All eyes turn.
Whispers follow.
Because this—
This I can’t hide.
The bruises.
The swelling.
The damage.
Alpha Darius notices immediately.
His expression darkens.
“Claire.”
His voice cuts through the room like thunder.
She stiffens.
Slowly turns.
“Yes, father?”
His gaze flicks to me.
Then back to her.
“Explain.”
Silence.
Tension thickens.
Claire lifts her chin slightly.
“She overstepped.”
Darius’s jaw tightens.
“And that gives you the right to do this?” he gestures toward me sharply.
She doesn’t answer.
For once—
She has nothing to say.
His voice drops.
Colder.
Controlled.
“I told you,” he says, each word deliberate, “we have guests.”
Ah.
There it is.
Not concern.
Not anger for me.
Reputation.
Always reputation.
“Clean yourself up,” he snaps at her. “And stay out of sight.”
Claire’s eyes flash with humiliation—but she nods.
Then storms off.
Darius doesn’t look at me again.
“Get back to work.”
Like nothing happened.
Like I’m still nothing.
I lower my gaze.
“Yes, Alpha.”
But as I turn away—
I feel it.
That gaze again.
Heavy.
Focused.
Watching.
I don’t need to look to know who it is.
Scavia.
And this time—
He’s not hiding his interest.
****"
SCAVIA
Something is wrong.
I notice it the moment I step into Darius’s territory.
Not the guards.
Not the structure.
Not even the tension sitting beneath the surface of his pack.
No.
It’s something else.
Subtle.
Persistent.
Annoying.
My wolf stirs uneasily beneath my skin, pacing, restless in a way I don’t like.
I ignore it.
I’ve dealt with worse.
—
The hall is exactly what I expected.
Controlled chaos disguised as order.
Alpha Darius plays the role well—welcoming, confident, hiding the cracks beneath his authority.
But I see them.
I always do.
My council spreads out behind me, silent observers, taking in every weakness this place has to offer.
Because that’s what this is.
Not a visit.
An evaluation.
And so far—
I’m not impressed.
Then—
It hits me.
A scent.
Soft.
Sweet.
Completely out of place.
My steps slow.
My wolf goes still.
Then alert.
What… is that?
My gaze sharpens, scanning the room until I find the source.
A servant.
Head lowered.
Moving quietly through the crowd like she doesn’t exist.
But she does.
Far more than she should.
Elara
Something about her—
No.
I shut the thought down immediately.
Irrelevant.
I don’t have time for distractions.
And yet…
My eyes linger a second too long.
My wolf presses forward.
Interested.
That alone is enough to irritate me.
I look away.
—
I don’t miss the way Darius watches me.
Calculating.
Waiting.
He thinks he knows where this is going.
He thinks this visit has one purpose.
And soon enough—
He proves it.
“As discussed,” he begins, drawing the room’s attention, “a union between our packs would strengthen both territories.”
There it is.
Predictable.
My jaw tightens slightly.
His gaze shifts to me.
“And there is no better way to ensure that… than through family.”
I don’t need him to say her name.
I already know.
Still—
My eyes flick toward her.
Claire
She stands tall, composed, confident in a way that suggests she believes this is already decided.
It isn’t.
“Your daughter,” I say, more statement than question.
“Yes,” Darius replies smoothly.
Silence follows.
Expectation thick in the air.
My council waits.
His pack waits.
She waits.
But all I feel is—
Nothing.
No pull.
No instinct.
No claim.
Instead—
That scent drifts again.
Faint.
Distracting.
I glance across the room before I can stop myself.
The servant.
Still moving quietly.
Still pretending not to exist.
And yet—
My wolf growls low.
Interested.
Possessive.
No.
Absolutely not.
“I’m not ready.”
The words leave my mouth before the thought fully forms.
Cold.
Final.
Darius’s expression tightens.
“Not ready… or not willing?”
I meet his gaze evenly.
“I lead a powerful pack,” I say. “I don’t make commitments lightly.”
It’s the truth.
Just not the whole truth.
Because something here is… off.
And I don’t commit when something doesn’t feel right.
Later—
She approaches me.
Claire.
Confident.
Persistent.
Too close.
I don’t stop her at first.
I should.
But I’m distracted.
Because that scent—
It’s stronger now.
Lingering.
Clinging.
Not hers.
My focus snaps back the moment she touches me.
And something in me recoils.
Subtle.
Instinctive.
Wrong.
My jaw tightens.
Her scent—
It doesn’t sit well.
Too sharp.
Too forced.
I pull back.
“Enough.”
The word comes out harsher than intended.
She freezes.
Confused.
“What’s wrong?” she asks.
Everything.
But I don’t say that.
“Nothing.”
A lie.
A poor one.
Because my attention shifts again.
Toward the door.
Toward the faintest movement—
Her.
Elara.
Standing there.
Watching.
Our eyes meet.
And everything—
Everything—
Snaps into place.
The pull.
The scent.
The reaction.
My wolf surges forward violently.
Mine.
The word echoes through my mind like a command.
“No,” I murmur under my breath.
Impossible.
I move instantly, pushing Claire aside without a second thought.
“Elara—”
But she’s already gone.
Running.
Of course she is.
I follow.
Fast.
Controlled.
Tracking her scent easily now that I’m focused on it.
Sweet.
Distinct.
Unmistakable.
Mate.
The realization hits harder this time.
Clear.
Undeniable.
And I reject it just as quickly.
No.
Not here.
Not like this.
Not a servant.
Not in Darius’s pack.
I round the corner—
And she’s gone.
I stop.
Listen.
Search.
Nothing.
My wolf growls in frustration.
“She’s here,” I mutter. “I can feel it.”
But I can’t find her.
And that—
That irritates me more than it should.
“You can’t hide from me,” I say into the empty corridor.
A promise.
Not a threat.
By the time I return to the hall, my mood has shifted.
Sharpened.
Dangerous.
And then—
I see her again.
Serving.
Head down.
But not well enough.
The bruises are visible now.
Fresh.
Angry.
Unmistakable.
Something in me snaps.
Cold.
Violent.
Controlled—but barely.
I turn to Darius.
“Darius.”
He looks at me, already irritated.
“What is it?”
I step closer.
Lower my voice.
“I noticed something.”
His eyes narrow.
“And what would that be?”
I don’t look at him.
Not yet.
My gaze is still on her.
“The state of your servant.”
His expression hardens immediately.
“That is none of your concern.”
Now I look at him.
“And yet,” I say calmly, “it reflects poorly on your leadership.”
A ripple moves through the room.
He steps closer.
“Careful.”
I don’t move.
“If you cannot control your own household,” I continue, “how do you expect to maintain an alliance?”
His jaw tightens.
“She is nothing,” he snaps.
The word lands wrong.
Deep.
I glance at her again.
The way she stands.
The way she hides.
The way she endures.
And the way my wolf refuses to ignore her.
“No,” I say quietly.
Not nothing.
Not to me.
“Not quite.”
—
I step back before the situation escalates further.
But the damage is done.
Because now I know.
And once I know something—
I don’t ignore it.
I don’t forget it.
And I don’t let it go.
My mate is in this pack.
Hidden.
Broken.
And surrounded by wolves who think she’s disposable.
That… is a problem!
- Writer
