The Forgotten Mate

Chapter 2: Celeste's POV

Days pass. The silence is loud in Cain’s home. Too loud.

I’ve been staying here for what feels like a lifetime, but in reality, it’s only been a few days. Time moves differently when you’re not sure who you are anymore. Or where you belong.

Cain hasn’t told me why he brought me here. He avoids the question every time I ask, and I’m not dumb. Something’s going on—something bigger than just me and Ryker’s rejection. But no one’s talking, not yet.

Cain’s house is small compared to the packhouse, but it’s cozy in a way I didn’t expect. The walls are covered in old, hand-carved decorations, and the smell of burning wood fills the air, reminding me of a simpler time. Before all of this. Before I became a ghost in my own life.

His sister, though—Nara—she doesn’t hide how much she hates me. Every time we cross paths, she glares like I’m something rotten she found in her dinner.

“You don’t belong here,” she says one morning and her shrieky voice cuts through the quiet like a blade. She stands in the kitchen doorway with her arms crossed and her dark eyes drilling into me. Her accent has this clipped edge to it that makes her words hit harder than they should. “And Cain might not see it, but I do.”

I’ve been trying to keep my head down, not cause trouble. But her attitude pisses me off so f*****g much. There’s only so much a girl can take before she snaps.

“I didn’t ask to be here,” I shoot back much colder than I intended. “Your brother seems to think otherwise.”

Nara scoffs. “My brother’s always been too soft. He thinks he can save everyone.”

Her words sting, more than I care to admit. Because the truth is, I don’t want to be saved. Not by Cain. Not by anyone. I just want answers. I want to understand why everyone’s tiptoeing around me, like I’m fragile. Like they know something I don’t.

I turn away from her, not willing to fight. Not today. My body’s sore from the restless nights and the constant tension making my bones weaker.

©©©

Later that evening, Cain returns home, quiet as always. He’s hard to read, even now, after all this time. But there’s something in the way he looks at me tonight—something different.

“Why did you bring me here, Cain?” I ask again, this time softer. “What aren’t you telling me?”

He hesitates, his eyes flicking to the door, then back to me. It’s like he’s calculating how much to say. How much to let me in on.

“You’re safer here,” is all he says.

Safer. From what?

“Safer from who?” I ask, my frustration creeping into my voice. I’m tired of this dance, of the half-truths. “Ryker? Enara? Or is there something else going on that I don’t know about?”

Cain lets out a long breath, rubbing the back of his neck like he’s carrying the weight of a thousand men on his shoulders. “It’s complicated, Celeste. Just… trust me. For now.”

Trust. That’s a big word coming from someone who hasn’t been fully honest with me since the beginning. But for some reason, I do. Maybe because I have no one else to trust. Or maybe because, despite everything, Cain feels like the only real thing in a world full of lies.

“I don’t want to just sit here,” I tell him and meet his gaze head-on. “If you won’t tell me what’s happening, at least let me do something. Anything.”

He pauses, then his eyes narrow like he’s considering something.

“There’s a training camp,” he starts slowly, watching my reaction. “Between the borders of our pack and the Daggerfall pack.”

Daggerfall. I’ve heard of them. They’re a ruthless bunch, known for their brutal fighting techniques and their strange customs. Cain’s friend must be one of their wolves.

“I know you’re strong, Celeste. You’ve got fight in you, even if you’ve been knocked down,” Cain continues. “Maybe that’s what you need right now. A chance to build yourself back up.”

He’s offering me an out. A way to escape this house and focus on something other than the emptiness that's been eating me up since Ryker’s rejection.

“Why now?” I ask, getting suspicious. “Why are you telling me this now?”

Cain doesn’t answer right away, but there’s a flicker in his eyes—a hint of something deeper, something he’s not saying.

“Because I think you deserve more than sitting here, waiting for answers,” he says quietly. “And because I think you might be ready for something bigger.”

I don’t know what he means by that. But the offer—the chance to train, to fight, to feel like myself again—is too tempting to pass up.

“When do we leave?” I ask and stand up, feeling something I haven’t felt in a long time—hope.

Cain smiles, just a small smile. “Tomorrow.”

©©©

As I lay in bed that night, my mind races with thoughts of the Daggerfall pack. Of what waits for me there. Of what Cain still isn’t telling me.

But I push the doubts away and focus on the one thing that feels real—this chance. A chance to rebuild. To fight. To make sense of the chaos my life has become.

Maybe this is what I need. A fresh start. A way to forget.

But deep down, I know it’s not that simple.