TEARS AGAIN

SALOME

Tears spilled over my lashes, hot and heavy, dropping onto the glass screen of my phone. I stared at the photo of Alpha Williams and Miriam until my vision blurred completely. My chest throbbed with a dull, sickening pain.

I was almost regretting marrying him.

Maybe this was the dark truth I had been too blind to see. Maybe he loved Miriam so much that he couldn't truly let her go. Now, I was just the quiet, peaceful woman sitting at home to keep up appearances, while the loud, nagging ex-wife he claimed to hate was the one he kissed in secret outside. I felt sick to my stomach. Was I just a convenience to him? A soft place to crash after a day of dealing with her?

"No," I whispered to the empty room, wiping my cheeks with the back of my hand. "You chose this, Salome. You have to be strong."

I couldn't afford to spend another day lying in bed, wallowing in self-pity. I was the Luna of the Northern Pack now, whether the pack fully accepted me or not.

I pulled on a simple, modest dress, brushed my hair back, and headed downstairs. Before I became the Alpha's wife, I was a palace maid. I knew every inch of this mansion, every unwritten rule, every scheduled routine, and every strict expectation of the pack estate. I knew which staff members were overworked, which halls needed immediate attention, and how the daily household budget was managed.

For the entire afternoon, I threw myself completely into Luna duties.

I met with the head housekeeper in the main office. When she nervously handed me the weekly pantry logs, expecting me to be clueless, I reviewed them quickly and pointed out two inventory errors within five minutes. Her eyes widened in genuine surprise.

"Luna Salome," she said, her voice holding a new edge of respect. "You... you actually know how the upper kitchens run."

"I cleaned those kitchens for two years, Martha," I said softly, giving her a gentle smile. "I know how much grain we use in a week. Let’s make sure nothing goes to waste."

Working kept my mind busy. It kept the image of Miriam’s arms wrapped around my husband’s neck from completely consuming me. By the time the sun began to sink below the horizon, casting long, orange shadows across the grand courtyard, I felt exhausted but useful.

As dark set in, I walked back up to the master suite. The palace grew quiet, the evening chill creeping through the tall windows. My stomach churned with anxiety, but I knew I had to act like a dutiful wife. I wanted to build a real home here, even if Williams was making it impossible.

I took out my phone and dialed his number, wanting to ask what he would prefer to have for dinner—or if he was even coming home at all.

The phone rang four times. Then, the line clicked open.

"Hello? Williams?" I asked softly, my heart beating fast.

"Listen to me very carefully, little maid," a sharp, venomous voice dripped through the speaker.

My blood ran cold. It wasn't Williams. It was Miriam.

"Miriam?" My breath hitched in my throat. "Why do you have my husband's phone?"

"He is busy," she sneered, her voice full of cruel satisfaction. "And I am warning you right now, Salome—do not interfere in things you don't understand. You might have the title, but you will never have his heart. Stop calling him."

Click.

The line went dead.

I stood frozen in the middle of the dim hallway, staring at the screen in utter disbelief. This must be a joke, I said to myself, my hands trembling violently. This cannot be happening. He wouldn't do this to me.

Determined not to let her win, I dialed his number again. It went straight to voicemail. I dialed a second time. Then a third. My anger and desperation flared up, overpowering my usual timid nature. I kept calling, over and over, refusing to back down.

On the seventh attempt, the call was finally answered.

"Williams! Please, listen to me—"

"SALOME! WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?!"

A loud, booming yell blasted through the speaker, so harsh and furious that I flinched, pulling the phone away from my ear. Williams’s voice was laced with pure irritation, terrifying in its intensity.

"W-Williams..." I stammered, my voice shrinking into a tiny whisper. "I was just calling to check on dinner—"

"Stop bugging me with your relentless calls!" he roared over the line, interrupting me completely. "I am extremely busy! I have a massive amount of pack work and manager meetings to deal with tonight! I will be sleeping out!"

The words hit me like a physical blow. My lungs seized up. "You're... sleeping out?"

"Yes!" he snapped coldly. "Do not wait up for me. Do not call this phone again tonight!"

Before I could say another word, the call disconnected with a sharp tone.

The phone slipped out of my numb fingers, dropping onto the soft rug at my feet.

For all the years I had served as a maid in this palace—watching Alpha Williams lead the pack, listening to the staff gossip about his strict schedule—he had never slept outside the house. Not once. Even during his worst, most explosive arguments with Miriam when they were married, he always returned to the palace to sleep in his own bed.

But tonight, on the third day of our marriage, he had decided to stay out. And I knew, with sickening certainty, who he was staying out with.

The heavy, suffocating silence of the massive palace swallowed me whole. I slowly walked into the empty bedroom, staring at the king-sized bed that felt far too big for just one person. The room felt freezing cold, just as he had warned me the night before, but the cold wasn't coming from the windows. It was coming straight from his heart.

I pulled off my shoes, climbed onto the bed without changing out of my clothes, and pulled the thick duvet over my head.

Once again, the tears came spilling out, hot and uncontrolled, soaking into the silk pillowcase. I curled my body into a tight, defensive ball, clutching my knees to my chest as quiet sobs wracked my entire frame. I cried for the naive girl who thought a wedding ring would protect her. I cried for the dignity I felt I was losing second by second.

And as the dark night stretched on, empty and cruel, I wept until my eyes burned and my strength gave out entirely, crying myself into a deep, hollow sleep.