Chapter 9
ELODIE’S POV~
The light in my eyes dimmed completely that night. I could feel it, like someone had reached inside my chest and stolen whatever little glow was left. A dull ache crept up and settled heavy in my heart, so suffocating it almost felt like breathing was punishment.
I gave Mila my usual bitter smile, the one I wore when I didn’t want anyone to know how much I was bleeding on the inside. She chirped away, tossing her silly little jokes into the room, trying so hard to make me laugh. And she did, well just a little. My lips curved, my chest lifted in a small chuckle, but it wasn’t real. It was like dragging a broken bone across glass.
I knew what she was doing. She wanted me to feel better. But I didn’t want better. I didn’t want hope or comfort or laughter. I wanted the pain to vanish completely, immediately. If Calhoun cared at all, it wasn’t for me. It was because I was the perfect slave, obedient, silent, answering to his every demand. That was the kind of woman he wanted. The kind he could mold into a shadow.
But not anymore.
“Okay,” Mila said finally, after making me snort at some ridiculous story she’d cooked up about a pack warrior tripping over his own sword. She stood, leaning down to kiss my temple. “I’ll be right back. Just need to run up some stuff. When I’m done, I’ll pick you up, I promise p>
I nodded weakly, watching her leave, the echo of her steps fading until I was alone again.
Days slipped by. I wasn’t discharged yet, and in those long hours, the silence became a cruel friend. Every day, I listened to the nurses gossip outside my door. They thought their voices didn’t carry, but they did. Every word felt like a knife, not felt! It was a knife.
“Did you see what Alpha Calhoun sent today?” one nurse whispered excitedly.
“A whole wardrobe, all designer, dresses, shoes, jewelry. It must have cost millions!” another gasped.
“That’s nothing. He cleared an entire VIP ward just for her. Said no one should disturb his mate p>
“Her room looks like a palace, flowers flown in from Paris, perfumes, diamond-studded bracelets, limited-edition handbags… you name it p>
“And the food, chefs cooking her whatever she wants. He even sent a piano to the ward, for heaven’s sake! Who does that p>
Their laughter, their awe, their excitement, it stabbed through me.
I had been shuffling slowly toward the exit that morning, desperate for a breath of fresh air, when their words caught me. I froze in my tracks. My heart plummeted to the ground, too heavy to carry. My stupid, traitorous heart still hadn’t gotten the message. I was nothing to him. I would never be.
I pressed forward anyway, brushing past them with my head down, forcing my feet to move. The air outside was cold, biting, and it burned my lungs in a way that almost felt good. At least pain reminded me I was still alive.
A few more days passed, and finally Mila called. She had promised today would be the day she came to get me discharged. I waited all morning, hours crawling by, hope rising every time my phone buzzed. But it wasn’t her. By late afternoon, I was blasting her with call after call, my chest sinking lower with each unanswered ring.
At last, she picked up. Her voice was rushed, apologetic, almost frantic.
“Elodie…I’m so sorry, I can’t come today. Something came up in the Pack, something serious. I…please forgive me, I just… I can’t leave right now p>
My throat tightened. I forced my voice to stay calm. “It’s alright, Mila. Just… make sure you handle it, okay? I understand. And when you’re done, please… come see me. Visit me p>
Over the line, I heard chaos, raised voices, cursing, arguments that bled through the phone. Mila exhaled, the sound weary and heavy.
“Thank you, El,” she whispered. “Thank you for understanding. I’ll come as soon as I can, I swear p>
Then the line went dead.
And the room felt colder than ever.
The day after I was discharged, I made the mistake of stepping back into the office.
Maybe I thought slipping in quietly, finishing the paperwork, and leaving for good would grant me some peace. I should have known better. In Calhoun’s world, peace wasn’t meant for someone like me.
I hugged the small cardboard box to my chest, filled with the scraps of a life I’d tried to build here, half-used notepads, a chipped mug, a picture frame that no longer meant anything. My steps echoed down the polished hallway, too loud in the silence, as though announcing my presence to the one person I prayed I wouldn’t meet.
But fate has a cruel sense of humor.
The elevator chimed just as I reached for it. The doors slid open, and there she was… the bitch, Carmela. Draped in designer fabric that clung like second skin, holding a coffee cup like it was an extension of her hand. Her smile was already sharp, as though she’d been waiting for me.
She didn’t sidestep. She collided into me deliberately, the coffee tilting, splashing across her pristine dress.
Her gasp pierced the air, fake, theatrical. “You ruined my dress! Again!” Her voice rose, carrying across the lobby. “You pathetic little thing, do you think this is funny? Do you think Calhoun will save you p>
I froze, my chest burning with humiliation as eyes turned toward us. “I didn’t p>
But she didn’t let me finish. She tossed the rest of the coffee in my face. The liquid was lukewarm but the shame scalded hotter than fire.
“What’s that look for?” she sneered, tilting her head, savoring the spectacle. “Do you think this is unfair? News flash, sweetheart, Calhoun only has eyes for me. Whatever I want, I get. Taking down some nobody Gamma girl? That’s not even worth his time p>
Her heels clicked as she sashayed past me, leaving the bitter stench of coffee on my skin and a thousand eyes burning into my back.
“Security,” she called lazily over her shoulder, “make sure she apologizes. On her knees. At the entrance. Don’t let her up until I say p>
My heart plummeted as two guards stepped forward.
“I don’t even work here anymore!” I snapped, voice cracking. “I just resigned. You can’t make me kneel like this p>
Their expressions didn’t flicker. “Standing orders from Alpha Calhoun. Whatever Miss Carmela wants, Miss Carmela gets. Save your breath for him p>
Those words shredded whatever pride I had left.
Still, I fought as they dragged me outside, the box falling from my arms, papers scattering across the floor like worthless confetti. My knees hit the concrete hard, pain shooting up my legs. Cold air bit into me, slicing through my thin clothes.
“Please My voice was hoarse. “Don’t do this p>
But the guards didn’t hear me. Or maybe they just didn’t care.
And so, in front of coworkers and strangers, I knelt. Hours passed, my body trembling violently. My knees bled through the fabric, the blood freezing almost as quickly as it surfaced. Faces blurred as they walked by, some snapping pictures, others whispering.
I refused to fall. Stubbornness was the only thing holding me up when my body begged to collapse.
By the time the office lights dimmed for closing, my vision had gone hazy, every breath ragged. My head hung low, my body nothing but pain.
“Elodie p>
The sound of my name dragged my head up weakly. Through the blur, I saw Mila, her expensive heels clicking against the sidewalk as she rushed toward me. Her eyes were wide, almost horrified.
“You just got out of the hospital,” she cried, kneeling beside me. “Why the hell are you kneeling out here in this freezing cold? Who did this to you p>
Her voice cracked with genuine fear, and I wanted so badly to collapse into her arms, to cling to the warmth of her concern. But my throat was dry, every word jagged as I forced it out.
And then everything tilted sideways.