chapter 10: Your wolf will soon become weak

Orion pov

I didn’t remember walking back into the ballroom. I barely remembered slipping past Nora’s watchful eyes through the noise and luxury until I reached the quiet sanctuary of the private elevator.

The moment the doors closed behind me, I crumpled.

My back slid against the cold mirrored wall, and I sank to the floor, pressing my palms to my eyes like I could block out the scent I still felt on my skin. Cassian’s voice echoed inside me—not loud, but deep, like thunder right before the storm breaks.

“You can bury your wolf in drugs and chemicals. But your wolf will soon become weak of hiding, and it will come out of its hiding place.”

My chest ached. Not from fear this time. From pressure.

I knew he was right.

My body knew. My wolf knew, even if he was too weak to rise.

I’d never allowed him space. Never allowed myself to feel anything real. And now it was like something inside me had finally heard the sound of its own heartbeat.

I hated it.

Because I couldn’t afford to feel.

I was born for silence. For obedience. For hiding.

When the elevator doors opened, I didn’t go back to the gala. I walked straight through the corridor, past the guest rooms, into the private wing of the Silver House. My suite door closed with a soft click, and I leaned against it, breathing hard.

Every step I’d taken that night had felt like walking into a trap.

But the strange part? Cassian hadn’t set it.

He wasn’t forcing me. He hadn’t threatened me or exposed me. He just... looked.

Saw.

And I didn’t know how to survive that.

I woke up to the pale sunlight spilling in through the tall drapes, casting weak golden lines across the ceiling above me. It took me a second to remember where I was. Not home. The ceiling was too clean, too unfamiliar. Too perfect. I hated waking up in the Silver House. Everything about this place felt polished to a fault—like even the air had been filtered through money and disdain.

And worse, his presence lingered. My uncle. Even when I didn’t see him, I felt him. Always watching, always judging. It pressed against my chest like a stone.

Nora knocked once, entered, and stopped when she saw the untouched breakfast tray from hours earlier.

“You’re still in bed,” she said quietly, stepping toward me. “The meeting’s in less than an hour. Are you not going?”

I didn’t answer right away. Just stared at the ceiling and let the silence stretch. Then I turned my face toward her. “No. I’m not."

She gave a slight pause. “Do you want me to call the physician? You look pale.”

I shook my head. “No.

She shut the door behind her and walked over, perching on the edge of my bed. I already knew what was coming.

“As your maid, I know I’m not supposed to question your decisions,” she started, her voice calm, her posture careful. “And as your secretary, I should follow your orders. But Orion—”

I turned my head away, but she didn’t stop.

“As your only friend,” she continued, “I think I get to say what you need to hear. You can’t keep doing this to yourself. You’re burning out. You need to slow down. Rest. You can’t pour from an empty cup, Orion.”

I sighed and rubbed my face, already exhausted before the day even started. “I didn’t ask for a lecture.”

“You didn’t,” she replied, “but you need one.”

I sat up slowly, my limbs heavy, my thoughts even heavier. “Just get ready for the meeting, Nora. You’ll represent me.”

“Why won’t you come?”

I met her eyes for a moment, then looked past her. “Because I have other things to handle. Things that matter more. But first, I need to get out of this house.”

She tilted her head, soft concern in her eyes. “You really hate being here, don’t you?”

I let out a dry laugh. “I can’t even breathe in this place. Every time I see my uncle’s face, it feels like I’m choking on history I didn’t ask to inherit. I just... I want to go home.”

Not this mansion dressed in cold ambition. My real home. Where it’s quiet. Where Nora moves freely. Where I don’t feel like I’m constantly bracing for war.

She stood and pulled back the curtains, letting in more of that pale morning light. “Alright. I’ll prep the documents and attend in your place.”

I nodded and dragged myself toward the bathroom. My body felt like it was running on fumes.

Thirty minutes later, we were both heading down the massive staircase of the Silver House. I didn’t glance back. Didn’t bother saying goodbye.

Uncle Sebastian didn’t show. He never did. Not unless it served him somehow. And that suited me just fine.

We stepped out into the open, the marble and silence behind us. With every footstep toward the car, I felt a little lighter.

The day outside was already moving. Deals. Politics. Threats cloaked in handshakes. And I had to face it all eventually.

But right now, all I cared about was this: I was leaving the Silver House. And that was enough.

I pulled the car to a slow stop just outside the company building. The morning rush was beginning to show—assistants in fitted suits, and interns holding steaming coffees hurried in and out like bees in a hive. Nora reached for the door handle, but I spoke before she could get out.

“You sent the contract proposal to Cassian’s company?”

She paused and turned back to me, her hand still on the handle. “Not yet. I’ll be sending it today.”

I gave a small nod. “Good.”

She tilted her head slightly, reading my face like she always did. “And yes,” she added, “I wrote everything exactly the way you told me to.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Including the part about the deal being 70/30?”

She gave a short, confident smile. “Very clearly. I made it known that there will be no negotiations about the ratio. Either they take it or leave it.”

“That’s good,” I said, leaning back in my seat. “Very good.”

Nora’s hand pushed the door open, but before stepping out, she glanced over her shoulder.

“I’ll keep you updated.”

“I know,” I murmured.

And with that, she stepped out, straightened her dress, and walked toward the glass doors of the building, leaving me alone again in the silence of the car.