Chapter Five

Himera

I don't freshen up. I remain seated at the edge of the bed, staring into nothing as my mind spirals. 

How did I end up in this situation?

It feels like an hour has passed by the time Elliot comes back to the room. I didn't even stand to lock it, so he opens it easily after knocking twice and walks in.

“Come,” he says, stopping inches away from me. “Let me show you around.”

I quickly stand and follow him out of the room and into an elevator. 

“The Packhouse has so many rooms,” he says, pressing a button. “It'd take an hour if I had to show you each and every one. So I'll only show you my bedroom, and the one that’ll belong to you once you're the Luna of this pack.”

I frown, watching the numbers count down from ten as the elevator rides us down. 

“Did you carry me up there after I collapsed?” I ask, curious.

“I did,” he says, flexing his muscles. “Carried you all the way up like I've been trained for it my whole life.”

Watching his reflection in the elevator wall, I fight a smile.

The elevator doors open on the ground floor, and I step out behind him. 

“Where's everyone,” I ask, noticing the quiet. 

“In their rooms,” Elliot replies. “You'll meet them soon.”

We walk past a grand living area with elegant chandeliers and fine furniture. This packhouse is nothing like the simple one back home.

We turn into a long hallway with doors lined on either side and stop at the first door to the right.

“This is my bedroom,” he says, pushing it open. “Mine and Derrick's are at the beginning for security reasons.”

I stay quiet as I look around. Grey walls, just like the living room and the room I woke up in. His room is simple–except for the grand piano seated in one corner.

“You play?” I ask, nodding toward it.

“Oh, better than Mozart,” he smirks.

I try not to, but I laugh. Elliot surely thinks highly of himself.

“Can you give me a performance then?” I ask, almost forgetting why I agreed to this tour.

“Not today,” he flicks his hand dismissively, and I shrug, convinced he probably can't play at all.

The door directly across from his is my enemy's, and the one beside it would be mine if I agreed to be mated to the brothers. 

It's beautiful.

Purple walls instead of the common grey I've seen so far. 

A queen-sized bed sits at the center, with a white headboard rimmed with what looks like real gold. One wall is lined with books from floor to ceiling, with a sliding ladder resting against it. 

“It's different from the others,” I say, more to myself than to him.

“It was customized to my Mama's liking,” he says, a hint of sadness threading through his voice. “We could customize it to yours too, if you accept us and become Luna.”

“Why must a Luna have her own bedroom?” I ask. In my pack, the Alpha and Luna share one.

“Triads are complicated, I guess,” he shrugs. 

We leave the room faster than the others. It's like he doesn't want to stay in there for too long, but I don't ask why. I don't want to carry his memories or secrets when I leave this place for good.

He shows me around the entire pack– the training grounds, meeting halls, infirmary, schools, mines, farmlands, business centers, and more. The last place he drives me to is the ice skating rink. 

My jaw drops the moment I see it. 

I can't imagine how long it took to build–or how much it cost. My pack suddenly feels painfully middle class compared to this one, and I used to think I was born into one of the richest packs in the world.

“You seem amazed,” Elliot says, watching me as I watch the rink.

“I am,” I admit. “I've never seen, or heard of, a pack with an ice skating rink.”

“Oh,” he chuckles, scratching his stubble. “We like to be inclusive here. When people requested a space for hockey and figure skating, we made one.”

“That's… actually really cool,” I say.

Back home, inclusivity isn't a thing. People don't just request things, they accept what they're given. Omegas especially don't get to ask for anything. That's why I consider myself lucky to have been born into the beta bloodline. 

But watching the rink brings back something  else.

Derrick.

I hate that it does.

The memory tries to surface, clawing its way up, but I shove it down and follow Elliot to his Porsche when he asks if we can leave.

By the time we return to the packhouse, the sun has set.

It's dinner time.

Elliot insists we eat in the main dining area with everyone else, even if room service is an option.

Without asking, he takes my hand as we walk toward the table. 

Before we sit, he clears his throat.

“Everyone,” he begins, “meet Himera Vale, our guest from America.”

I don't hear the rest of the introduction.

My eyes are busy scanning the table for Derrick, even though I don't smell him. 

I hope he doesn't come. 

As I search, my gaze collides with a familiar one. 

A woman's.

The way she looks at me makes my stomach twist. Before I can place her, Elliot pulls out a chair for me, interrupting the eye contest.

And then it hits me.

Cassandra Scot. 

The girl who made my college life a living hell. Derrick’s college girlfriend.

What is she doing here?

Like me, she belonged to a pack in America–at least back then.

Unless she's still his girlfriend.

Which makes no sense, considering the whole triad nonsense Elliot keeps talking about.

It takes me a moment to recognize her fully. The blonde hair is gone, replaced with blue. And her face… something about it feels off. Surgery, maybe. Not the best kind.

Cassandra doesn't stop staring. 

Not once.

I ignore her.

I'm too hungry to care.

Once everyone finishes eating, the younger members clear the table, and Elliot offers to escort me back to my room.

“I don't want you getting lost around here,” he jokes. 

Even though I've mastered every place he's shown me and getting lost is almost impossible, I smile and nod.

“Elliot, dear,” Cassandra finally speaks, rising to her feet. “Why don't you let me escort her? She's in the first guest room, isn't she?”

“She is,” Elliot smiles easily, seemingly oblivious to the spite in her tone. “Go ahead.”

He turns to me.

“Goodnight, Himera. Who knows, you two might even become friends.”

I force a smile. “Goodnight.”

“Hi,” Cassandra says, stepping beside me. “Let's go.”

I follow her into the elevator, silent.

Thankfully, she doesn't speak.

Not until we reach my door.

“Why are you here?” She asks, her voice sharp.

“I could ask you the same,” I reply.

She smiles, flashing the same gold slug I remember from college.

“You're their mate,” she says matter-of-factly. “But if you love yourself and want to walk out of here alive, don't accept them.”

“Why?” I ask. “Because you're still in love with Derrick after all these years?”

Her jaw tightens.

“Just leave,” she says coldly. “Or I'll show you hell.”

Then she turns and walks away.