Ignored
1157 Words
“I’m sorry, but the Alpha is currently occupied with his lady. We don’t permit visitors without a prior appointment.”
The words struck Eleanor like a physical blow.
She stood frozen in the center of the Silver-Moon Pack’s corporate headquarters, her breath trapped painfully in her chest. The marble lobby gleamed under crystal chandeliers, silver-and-glass architecture reflecting wealth, power, and belonging. Wolves moved confidently through the space—executives, guards, pack members—each of them certain of their place.
She was not.
His lady.
The phrase echoed mercilessly in her head, each repetition cutting deeper than the last. Eleanor’s fingers tightened around the small velvet box she held, her knuckles turning white.
His lady?
Then what was she?
For three years, Eleanor had lived as Silas’s secret.
There was a marriage certificate locked away in a private safe. Real signatures. Legal vows. A ring she only wore at home, hidden beneath gloves whenever she stepped outside. She was his wife in every way that mattered except the ones the world could see.
She had never been allowed inside this building before today.
She was the woman he returned to in the dead of night, when pack politics were done and the moon hung low. The one who cooked, cleaned, listened, waited. The one who absorbed his silences and soothed his anger. Yet here, in the heart of his world, she was nothing.
Her gaze dropped to the box in her hands, as if drawing courage from its weight. Inside were two tiny woolen booties she had knitted herself and a pregnancy test displaying two undeniable blue lines.
Positive.
A miracle she had believed would finally change everything.
She had imagined this moment so clearly. Silas’s shock. His rare, genuine smile. His arms lifting her effortlessly as he laughed in disbelief. She had believed foolishly that this child would bridge the gap between human and wolf, shadow and light.
“There must be some mistake,” Eleanor said, forcing the words past the tightness in her throat. “I’m Silas’s wife. Eleanor Thane.”
The receptionist finally looked up.
She was a she-wolf—sharp cheekbones, cool blue eyes, the faint hum of dominance beneath her skin. For a brief second, something like pity flickered across her expression.
Then it vanished.
“Alpha Silas and his fated mate, Lady Catheryn, are in a private meeting,” the receptionist said evenly. “I’ve never heard of a wife. Especially not a human one.”
The world seemed to tilt.
Fated mate.
Eleanor’s heart slammed violently against her ribs. Her free hand moved instinctively to her stomach as if to shield the fragile life inside her.
She remembered the first time she had asked Silas about fated mates. The way his jaw had tightened. The way he had looked away.
It won’t happen, he had told her. And even if it does, I chose you.
They had met at the pack university’s medical school. Silas, already powerful, already feared had been the Alpha-in-waiting. Eleanor had been the only human student, tolerated at best, despised at worst.
When a group of wolves had cornered her late one evening, snarling about her human scent polluting their halls, Silas had stepped in. His presence alone had driven them away.
He had claimed it was about protecting the institution’s reputation.
But Eleanor had believed there was something more.
They married quietly soon after. No ceremony. No witnesses. Silas had said it was for her safety. A human Luna would be hunted, he’d warned. Better to stay hidden. Better to stay alive.
Just for now, he’d promised.
“Please,” Eleanor whispered, desperation breaking through her composure. “I just need five minutes.”
“Ma’am, you need to leave,” the receptionist said sharply, pressing a button beneath her desk.
Panic surged.
Eleanor’s gaze snapped to the elevators at the far end of the lobby, their gold doors gleaming. If she could just reach him, just look him in the eyes, he would explain. He would fix this.
She ran.
“Security!” someone shouted.
Her heart thundered as she sprinted across the lobby, ignoring the startled cries behind her. She was only steps away—
A solid body slammed into her path.
Strong hands seized her arms. Two security guards towered over her, their eyes glowing faint amber.
“Let me go!” she cried, struggling. “Silas! Silas, it’s Eleanor!”
Her voice echoed uselessly.
They dragged her back through the lobby as if she weighed nothing. The revolving doors spun, and suddenly she was shoved outside onto the cold pavement.
She stumbled.
The velvet box slipped from her hands.
It burst open as it hit the ground. The tiny booties landed in a shallow puddle. The pregnancy test rolled to a stop, face up.
Eleanor dropped to her knees, breath tearing from her lungs. She scrambled to gather the items, tears blurring her vision. No one helped her. People passed as if she weren’t there.
Again.
She didn’t know how long she sat on the bench across the street. The wind cut through her coat, biting into her skin, but she barely felt it. She called Silas once.
Then again.
Each call was declined.
As the sun dipped behind the skyscrapers, exhaustion pressed down on her bones. Just when hope began to fade, the building doors opened again.
Silas stepped out.
He looked immaculate in a tailored black suit, dominance radiating from him effortlessly. Her heart leapt painfully.
But he wasn’t alone.
At his side was a woman who seemed carved from moonlight—tall, elegant, silver hair flowing freely. Power clung to her like a crown.
Obsidian Pack royalty.
“Silas!” Eleanor cried, rushing forward.
He stopped.
For a fleeting second, recognition flickered in his eyes. Then it hardened into ice.
He opened the car door for the woman, shielding her carefully as she stepped inside. Only then did he turn to Eleanor.
“What are you doing here?” His voice was low, warning.
Her hands shook as she held out the battered box. “I’ve been here all day. They said you were with your lady. Silas, please—”
Cameras flashed.
“Alpha Silas! Has Lady Catheryn returned as Luna?”
Silas glanced at the reporters, then back at Eleanor.
His eyes were colder than winter.
“I cannot be publicly associated with a human,” he said. “Go home.”
The woman stepped out again, her gaze sweeping Eleanor with detached curiosity. “Silas,” she asked gently, “who is this?”
Silas didn’t hesitate.
“I don’t know her,” he said. “Just a fan.”
He turned back to the woman, his voice softening. “Be careful with the baby.”
The words shattered what remained of Eleanor’s world.
Baby?
The box slipped from her fingers.
The flashing lights blurred. The ground rushed up.
And everything went dark.
- Writer
