Chapter 7
But then, it happened again.
Sylvia had been minding her own business in the packhouse’s common area, scrolling through a series of maps she’d been asked to review. It was routine work, something
usually found calming. But today, her concentration was scattered. Her thoughts kept wandering back to the looming Mateship Ceremony, the strange Alpha she would soon be bound to, and, inevitably, to the friendships she had left behind.
The quiet murmur of conversation outside the room barely registered until a familiar voice–a sugary, feigned whimper–cut through the air, making her wolf bristle.
“It’s just… she looked at me with so much
anger,” Phoebe’s voice trembled, the words thin and fragile, bleeding through the walls.
“I don’t know what I did wrong.”
What the hell is she talking ab Is she
upset because I turned down her invitation to grab coffee earlier? Now, she’s talking behind my back?
Elio’s voice followed, soft and coaxing. “Hey, Phoebe, it’s alright. Sylvia’s just… going through something. It’s not your fault.”
“No, it’s my fault, Phoebe whispered, guilt curling her words like smoke.
“I… I must’ve done something to upset her. Maybe it’s because I’m… because I’m pregnant with your child, Alpha.”
Sylvia’s fists clenched involuntarily, the
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heat of rage flooding her chest. She could practically picture Phoebe in her mind–eyes wide, head down, hands folded together like some innocent, helpless lamb in need of protection. Her wolf snarled, furious at the absurdity of it all. How could Elio fall for it every single time?
Unable to stand it any longer, Sylvia threw the door open and stepped into the hallway. There, Phoebe stood, flanked on either side by Elio. Their stance–so protective, so familiar–was a slap in the face.
Sylvia’s voice cut through the tension, calm but steely, each word sharp as glass. “Phoebe, if you’ve got something to say, say it to my face. Don’t make up stories and whisper behind my back.”
“Sylvia, Phoebe said, voice trembling, wide–eyed as though caught in the act. “I
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wasn’t… trying to upset you.”
The Alpha stepped forward, concern knitting his brow. “Sylvia, this isn’t necessary. Phoebe hasn’t done anything wrong. She’s just… feeling a bit fragile right now, with everything going on with the pregnancy. Please, choose your words carefully.”
Sylvia’s wolf growled in protest, but she steadied herself, keeping her voice calm and collected.
“I’m not accusing her, Elio,” she replied, her tone flat, betraying none of the emotion roiling beneath the surface. “I’m simply asking for honesty.”
Phoebe flinched, her entire demeanor shifting, as if Sylvia’s words had physically struck her. Her fingers shot to her lips, her shoulders curling inward like she
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was bracing for impact. “I’m… I’m sorry” Phoebe stammered, her voice soft with faux vulnerability. “I was scared–no, my baby was scared because you looked at me like that earlier. All I’ve ever tried to do is
you!!
Ond with
Elio’s gaze hardened, and he placed a hand on Phoebe’s shoulder, his tone turning defensive as he looked at Sylvia. “Do you really have to make her feel like this, Sylvia? She’s done nothing but try to be kind.”
Sylvia almost laughed. Kindness? Phoebe’s version of kindness was to play the victim, to spin every interaction into a tale of sorrow and need, luring Elio in with every false tear. And there he was, completely blind to it all, standing by her as though nothing was amiss.
“This is absurd, Sylvia muttered, her voice a
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mix of disdain and disbelief as she stared at both of them.
Elio’s voice dropped into a low, controlled growl.
“Sylvia, you’re being unreasonable. Phoebe hasn’t done a single thing to deserve this treatment.”
Sylvia’s gaze locked with his, and the accusation in his eyes hit her harder than any physical blow. Her chest tightened, a cold bitterness settling deep within her. “And what exactly have I done, Elio? What am I guilty of?”
He hesitated, his eyes flicking nervously to Phoebe, who seemed to shrink under Sylvia’s unflinching stare. Finally, he muttered, “You’ve been… distant. Cold.”
Phoebe’s voice wavered as she quickly inserted herself into the conversation.
“It’s my fault, isn’t it?” she asked, her tone steeped in feigned guilt. “Ever since I got pregnant, things have been… different between the two of you. I never meant to cause any
problems. If you want, I can leave. I don’t want to be the cause of any tension between you two.”
She sniffled, a single tear slipping down her cheek, and Sylvia’s wolf snarled in fury. Phoebe was laying it on thick, playing the helpless victim as though Sylvia had driven her to this point personally.
“No one’s asking you to leave,” Elio said gently, drawing Phoebe closer to him. “You belong here, Phoebe. You’re carrying my child, and I won’t let anyone make you feel otherwise.”
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Phoebe nodded, casting a desperate, pleading glance toward Sylvia. “I just want things to be better between us, Sylvia. I want us to be friends.”
The absurdity of it almost made Sylvia
tuway
laugh. Friends? As if Phoebe hadn’t wormed her way between them, seized every chance to turn Sylvia into the villain of her own life. And now, she was asking for friendship?
Sylvia’s eyebrows creased in disbelief. “Funny, Phoebe. I don’t recall friends twisting the truth at every turn.”
Phoebe gasped, her hand flying to her chest, eyes wide and brimming with crocodile tears. “I’ve done no such thing!” she cried, her voice shaking with indignation. “I… I would never. I don’t understand why you think so badly of me.”
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Elio’s eyes narrowed, flashing with anger as he stepped between Sylvia and Phoebe. “Enough. She doesn’t deserve this.”
