Aurora’s POV
The bed felt too large and too cold the mont Raymond slamd the door. I lay there, staring at the ceiling, the ghost of his touch still prickling my skin. But even that heat was fading, replaced by the icy realization that Oliver was truly slipping through my fingers.
I reached for my phone, my fingers trembling as I opened my ssages. I typed the words quickly, before I could lose my nerve.
"I can’t do this anymore, Oliver. I’m resigning. Please don’t look for ."
I hit send. My heart hamred against my ribs. I watched the screen, seeing the little icons change. The ssage was delivered. A few seconds later, it was seen.
He was looking at it. Right now.
I waited. I held my breath until my lungs ached, expecting the phone to vibrate in my hand. I expected him to call , to growl through the line, to use his Alpha tone to command back to the packhouse. I wanted him to tell I was his and that I wasn’t going anywhere.
But the phone stayed silent.
Five minutes passed. Then ten. Then an hour. By noon, the silence was a physical weight on my chest, crushing the air out of . He didn’t care. He didn’t even care enough to accept my resignation or argue against it. I was just a ghost to him now, a mory he was happy to let fade so he could focus on his new Queen.
"Have I really lost you?" I whispered to the empty room. Tears blurred my vision as I curled into a ball. The Oliver I loved would have fought for . This stranger—the Alpha King—didn’t even see .
I was still lying there, drowned in my own heartbreak, when the sudden, loud blare of my ringtone made jump. My heart leaped into my throat. Oliver. It had to be him.
I scrambled for the phone, nearly dropping it in my haste to answer. But when I looked at the screen, the na didn’t say "Oliver."
It was Clara.
I let out a shaky, disappointed breath and hit the green button. "Clara? Not now, I’m really not in the mood—"
"Aurora!" her voice cut off, shrill and scared. She sounded like she was hyperventilating. "Aurora, tell ... is he... is he okay? How is he?"
I frowned, sitting up slowly. "How is who? Clara, what are you talking about?"
"Where are you?" she shouted into the phone. I could hear sirens and shouting in the background on her end.
"I’m in my apartnt. I’m in bed. What is going on?"
"You haven’t heard?" Her voice broke, a sob escaping her. "Aurora, the news is everywhere. It’s on every channel, every social dia feed. The Alpha King... Oliver... he’s been attacked."
The world seed to tilt on its axis. The blood drained from my face so fast I felt lightheaded. "Attacked? What do you an, attacked? He’s the Alpha King, Clara. No one is stupid enough to—"
"It happened at the dispute eting with the Northern clans," she wailed. "Soone got past the guards. Aurora, he was shot. Eight tis. Silver bullets, Aurora... they were silver."
I felt like I had been punched in the stomach. The room began to spin. Silver. To a werewolf, silver wasn’t just a wound; it was a death sentence. It burned the flesh, poisoned the blood, and stopped the healing process. One bullet was dangerous. Eight was...
"They’re saying he might not make it," Clara continued, her voice fading as my ears began to ring. "They’ve rushed him away, but it’s bad. The news is saying it’s a massacre. Aurora? Aurora, are you there?"
My phone slipped from my hand, clattering onto the hardwood floor.
Eight tis. The words Raymond had said just an hour ago echoed in my brain like a thunderclap.
"I just got a call to assassinate soone."
The boiling anger on his face. The sudden departure. The cold way he said he killed people to "remove the rot."
A scream built in my throat, but no sound ca out. I had spent the night in the arms of the man who had just shot the man I love. I had pleaded with him to stay. I had let him touch while he planned the execution of the man I loved.
I didn’t think. I only grabbed a jacket and just bolted for the door, my mind screaming.
I stumbled out of the apartnt and ran to the street, my heart beating so hard it felt like it would break my ribs. I waved down a taxi, my hands shaking so much I could barely open the door. The driver looked at like I was crazy—I was barefoot and still in my nightgown with a thin coat over it—but I didn’t care.
"The Alpha Packhouse! Please, move fast!" I cried out.
The drive was a blur. I watched out the window, but all I could see was Oliver’s face. Not the cold King from yesterday, but the man who used to hold like I was the only thing that mattered.
When the taxi finally pulled up near the main road, my heart stopped.
The gates were a ss. It wasn’t just the local pack; there were people from all over the world. Their faces were pale and full of fear. News reporters were everywhere, their cara flashes popping like tiny bombs. Big news trucks blocked the road, and the sound of a hundred people shouting made my head spin.
I paid the driver and ran. I didn’t care that the ground hurt my bare feet or that people were staring. I pushed through the crowd, ignoring the angry shouts as I fought my way to the front of the big iron gates.
"Let in!" I scread, hitting the cold tal with my hands.
A guard who clearly recognized stepped forward.
"Miss Aurora, go ho," he said. His voice was thick with sadness.
"No! Let in, I have to see him!" I scread, my voice cracking. "I have to know if he’s still alive!"
"I can’t," he said, shaking his head. He looked very tired. "No one can see him now. The healers are with him. He is in a very bad way, Aurora. The doctors say... they say the silver is moving to his heart."
"No!" I sobbed. "I’m not just ’anyone’! You know that! I’m his assistant, I—"
But the guard turned his head away. He wouldn’t look at . Two other big guards stepped up, making a wall of muscle. They ignored my crying as if I were just another stranger.
I sank to the ground against the gate, my head pressing into the iron bars. I felt small. I felt thrown away. I felt like the world was ending, and I was locked outside.
Suddenly, my phone buzzed in my jacket pocket.
The vibration felt like a shock. I pulled it out with shaking hands, hoping it was a ssage from soone inside. Maybe a nurse. Maybe Oliver alerting that he was fine.
But I was wrong....It It was a text from a number I didn’t know. I opened it.
"Hi, sweet pie... it’s Raymond here. This is my new line. I can’t contact you with the other line for now... so tell , how is my girl doing?"
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