Mounting Tensions

(Vivian's POV)

James shifted uncomfortably on our doorstep, his gaze darting everywhere except my face.

"James, please," I pressed, lowering my voice so Martha couldn't hear from the kitchen. "I'm his mate. I deserve to know where he's staying."

James gave an awkward chuckle that did nothing to ease the tension. "Miss Vivian, Mr. Sylvan is just busy with Blood Moon business. That's all I can really say."

"I don't believe that's all you know," I said, trying to keep the desperation out of my voice. "He's been gone for four days without a word."

James shifted his weight from one foot to the other. His discomfort was palpable, caught between loyalty to Sylvan and sympathy for me.

"I'm sorry, Miss Vivian. The Blood Moon operations are... complicated. Mr. Sylvan has many responsibilities."

"More important than contacting his mate?" The words came out sharper than I intended.

James winced. He had been with the Thorne family for years and had always been kind to me. I shouldn't be putting him in this position.

"I have another pickup scheduled," he said, checking his watch with obvious relief. "I really must go."

Before I could press further, he was hurrying down the walkway, practically diving into the driver's seat of his car.

I watched him drive away, the night air cool against my skin.

Back inside, Martha was wrapping up the untouched dinner, her disappointed expression making me feel irrationally guilty.

"Mr. Sylvan must be very busy," she said, as if trying to convince herself. "The Blood Moon is important work."

I set my box down with more force than necessary. "So important he can't send a single text?"

Martha didn't answer. She didn't have to. We both knew that if Sylvan wanted to contact me, he would have.

I pulled out my phone, my fingers hovering over Sylvan's contact. After a moment's hesitation, I pressed call, already knowing what would happen.

Sure enough, after three rings, a different voice answered.

"Mr. Thorne's phone."

I recognized Marcus Wright's efficient tone immediately. Sylvan's personal assistant was as much a wall as he was an aide.

"Marcus, it's Vivian. I need to speak with Sylvan."

There was a brief pause. "I'm afraid Mr. Thorne is in a meeting at the moment."

"He's been in a 'meeting' for four days?" I couldn't keep the sarcasm from my voice.

"Blood Moon operations require his full attention," Marcus replied smoothly. "He's extremely busy."

"Too busy to talk to his mate for even one minute?" My voice cracked slightly.

Another pause. "I'll let him know you called."

Anger surged through me. "Fine. Tell him to watch out for sudden death if he's too busy. And remind him to contact me before he dies."

I ended the call before Marcus could respond, childish satisfaction mixing with the hurt and frustration churning inside me.

I could almost picture the confusion on Marcus's face as he tried to decide how to relay my message.

Upstairs in our bedroom, I changed into comfortable pajamas and tried to focus on a medical journal. The words blurred before my eyes as my mind kept circling back to Sylvan.

My phone rang, and for a moment, my heart leapt. Maybe Sylvan had received my message and decided to call after all.

But the screen displayed a different name: Elizabeth Thorne.

I considered ignoring it, but knew from experience that would only make things worse. With a deep breath, I answered.

"Hello, Luna."

"Vivian." Her voice was crisp and cold. "I expected an update from you by now regarding our discussion."

I closed my eyes, dread pooling in my stomach. "I haven't had a chance to speak with Sylvan yet. He's been... unavailable."

"Is that so?" The disbelief in her tone was clear. "Or are you deliberately delaying?"

"Why would I delay?" I asked, though I already knew her answer.

"Spite, perhaps?" Elizabeth suggested. "Or some misguided hope that things might change?"

I sat up straighter, my free hand clenching into a fist. "I'm not being spiteful."

"Then you're being selfish." Elizabeth's voice hardened. "My son spent three years in human territory because of this ill-advised mating. Three years away from his family and proper pack duties."

The accusation stung. "I didn't ask him to leave."

"Nevertheless, he felt compelled to get away. That speaks volumes, doesn't it?"

I had no answer for that. It was a fear that had haunted me for years—that Sylvan had fled to escape me.

"Sylvan deserves a mate worthy of his position," Elizabeth continued. "Someone who understands pack politics and can stand beside him properly."

Someone like Clara Redcliff. The unspoken name hung between us.

"The Thorne pack only agreed to this mate-marking out of obligation to Elder Margaret," Elizabeth reminded me. "We've fulfilled that obligation. It's time to move forward."

"And what do I get out of this arrangement?" I asked quietly.

"A generous settlement," she replied promptly. "More than enough to establish yourself comfortably elsewhere. We'll be even."

Even. As if the last three years could be erased with money.

"I didn't want this mate-marking either," I reminded her, pain sharpening my words. "But the Thorne pack needed my healing abilities. Everyone was quick to accept me when William was injured and no other healer could help."

"That's ancient history," Elizabeth dismissed. "The question now is whether you'll do the right thing or continue to cling to a relationship that clearly isn't working."

Inside me, Phoebe whimpered in distress. Despite everything, my wolf still wanted Sylvan—still recognized him as her mate.

"I'll speak with Sylvan when he returns," I said firmly. "This isn't a decision I can make alone."

Elizabeth made a sound of disapproval. "Don't wait too long. My patience has limits."

The call ended, leaving me feeling hollow and raw. I tossed my phone aside and curled into a ball on the edge of our large bed. The side that should have held Sylvan remained empty and cold.

The next morning at the Pack Medical Center, I threw myself into work, grateful for the distraction. I was treating a young wolf with a dislocated shoulder when my phone vibrated with a text from Emma.

Emma: CALL ME AS SOON AS YOU CAN!!

I finished setting the shoulder, prescribed pain medication, and stepped into my office before returning Emma's urgent message.

"What happened?" I asked as soon as she picked up.

"What happened?" Emma's voice was incredulous. "You tell me! Elizabeth Thorne is telling everyone who'll listen that you're considering breaking your mate bond with Sylvan!"

I froze, my grip on the phone tightening. "What?"

"It's all over the pack grapevine! Apparently, she called you last night and basically demanded you set Sylvan free. Is that true?"

I sank into my desk chair, feeling suddenly lightheaded. "She called, yes. But I didn't agree to anything."

"That witch!" Emma's outrage was palpable. "Who does she think she is? And meanwhile, Sylvan is parading around with that Clara Redcliff like he's already free!"

My heart clenched. "Clara? What are you talking about?"

"You haven't seen the pack forum posts? They were spotted having lunch at The Crescent yesterday. Everyone's saying he's interested in an alliance with the Redcliff Pack."

Clara Redcliff. The beautiful daughter of the Redcliff Pack's Beta. I'd met her once at a formal pack gathering and remembered her perfectly styled hair and calculatingly sweet smile.

"It's probably just business," I said, not believing my own words.

"Business, my ass," Emma snorted. "The woman has been after Sylvan since before your mate-marking. And now Elizabeth is helping pave the way!"

I closed my eyes, feeling sick. "Emma..."

"No, listen to me," she insisted. "You've put up with enough humiliation from the Thorne pack. If Sylvan wants out of this mating so badly, let him do the dirty work himself instead of hiding behind his mother."

She was right, and we both knew it. If our mating was truly over, Sylvan should be the one to say so to my face. Not through Elizabeth's manipulations.

"You need a night out," Emma declared. "My shift ends at six. I'm picking you up at seven, and we're going to The Moonlight Bar. I have a big surprise."

I groaned. "Emma, I'm not in the mood—"

"Not negotiable," she interrupted. "You need this. Trust me."

After my shift ended, I returned to the villa feeling emotionally drained. I briefly considered canceling on Emma, but knew she would simply show up at my door and drag me out anyway.

By 6:45, I was dressed in a simple black dress that hugged my curves without being too revealing. I had just finished applying a touch of lip gloss when I heard Emma's car horn blasting from outside.

Martha gave me a disapproving look as I headed for the door. "Will you be late, Miss Vivian? Should I inform Mr. Sylvan if he returns?"

The if rather than when wasn't lost on me. "I doubt he'll notice either way," I replied, more bitterly than intended.

Emma's bright red convertible sat in my driveway, the top down despite the cool evening air. Her wild curls danced in the breeze as she waved enthusiastically.

"Get in, gorgeous! The night awaits!"

I slid into the passenger seat, already regretting my decision. "What's this big surprise you mentioned?"

Emma's grin was mischievous as she pulled away from the curb. "The Moonlight Bar has a promotion tonight. Couples get 50% off all drinks!"

I blinked at her, momentarily confused. "Emma, I'm... well, technically mated, and you're single. How does that help us?"

She winked dramatically. "We can be a couple for the night! Who's to say we aren't?"

"Are you serious?" I couldn't help but laugh. It was so absurd.

"Dead serious." Emma nodded firmly. "I refuse to pay full price for drinks when there's a perfectly good discount available. Besides, it'll be fun to pretend."

I shook my head, but found myself smiling despite everything. "You're impossible."

"I know." She grinned. "But that's why you love me."

The Moonlight Bar was packed when we arrived. Emma secured us a small booth near the back, then bounced off to claim our "couples discount" at the bar. I watched her flirt shamelessly with the bartender, gesturing in my direction occasionally to sell our ruse.

She returned triumphantly with two brightly colored cocktails. "Success! Half-price drinks all night, baby!"

I accepted the drink, taking a small sip. The sweet-tart flavor masked the substantial alcohol content.

"So," Emma began, leaning closer to be heard over the music, "what do you think about the rumors that Sylvan is back to challenge William for Alpha heir position?"

I nearly choked on my drink. "What? Where did you hear that?"