Chapter 4

MARGE

Ryan shut the door and walked up to him. “Sorry to disappoint you brother. But she has made up her mind. Let her go,”

The tension between the boys was second to none. Nobody dared to interfere. Nobody but Naya who strolled down with her four year old son. I saw the anger in Zach’s eyes melt the moment he saw his son. 

“Father,” the little boy called innocently. 

Before they could close the distance, Ryan acted. He pulled out a talisman from his pocket. “This is a symbol of authority. I’m sure you know what that means, brother. I have staked my claim on Margaret, and she’s coming with me,”

Zach moved to speak. But Naya and son had already gotten to him. His son clung to his leg, while Naya locked arms with him. 

“Why do you bother?” She sighed. “It’s only a matter of time before Ryan realizes how worthless she is and sends her packing. She’ll come back, trust me,” 

It broke my heart to watch, and I didn’t know when my hand started shaking. Ryan tightened his grip around my arm and stood in front of me. “Listen to your wife,” he told Zach. 

Zach’s silence coined into a smirk. “You’re nothing without me. I’ll love you to remember that the moment he sends you away,” 

He turned and started walking away with Naya and his son. I moved forward, away from Ryan’s shielding frame. “Zach!” I called before slipping my wrist out of Ryan’s hold. I waited until they turned around. “You’re wrong!”

***************

What seemed to me an endless journey finally came to an end the moment Ryan drove through the gates. Night had fallen, and the Lycan realm, including every building and infrastructure was hidden by the dark clouds. 

Ryan reached for my hand as we stepped out of the car. “Home,” he said.

I didn’t correct him. It wasn’t mine yet. 

The palace rose ahead of us, tall and pale under the moonlight, nothing like the cold stone halls of Trinigull. Wolves in uniform lined the path, heads bowed as we passed. Nobody laughed. Nobody whispered “Large Marge” behind a raised hand.

I almost didn’t know what to do with the silence.

“You’re staring,” Ryan said, amused.

“I’m not used to people not staring at me like I’m a joke.”

“Get used to it,” he said. “Nobody laughs at my guest.”

We reached the front doors, and that was when I saw him. A tall man stood at the top of the steps, silver threading through black hair, hands folded behind his back like he’d been carved into that position and left there for years.

“Father,” Ryan said, tone shifting, straighter now. “This is Margaret. And Margaret…this is my father. Garret. King of the Lycan realm,” 

Garret’s eyes found mine.

And stayed there.

Too long. Long enough that I looked away first, uncomfortable in a way I couldn’t name. When I looked back, he hadn’t blinked.

“Margaret,” he repeated, like he was testing the sound of it against something else in his memory. “Forgive me. You remind me of someone.”

“Oh,” I said, unsure what else to offer.

“It’s nothing,” he said, though his face didn’t agree. He stepped down, closer, studying me the way Trinity used to, except Trinity looked at me like I was smaller than I was. Garret looked at me like I was more.

“Father,” Ryan said again, quieter this time like a warning.

Garret blinked, finally, and the moment folded shut. “Welcome to the Lycan realm, Margaret. I hope we get along real good. My son will show you around. Always feel free to walk up to me for a discussion as well” He turned and disappeared back through the doors before I could respond.

I let out a breath I didn’t know I’d been holding. “Is he always like that?”

“No,” Ryan said, watching the space his father had left. “He isn’t.”

He walked me to my room himself, waving off the servant who tried to take over. The halls were quieter than I expected for a palace, lit low, gold sconces throwing soft light across old paintings I didn’t recognize.

“You didn’t have to do this,” I said.

“I wanted to.” He stopped at a door near the end of the hall. “This one’s yours. Mine’s three doors down, if you need anything.”

“Convenient.”

“Yup,” he said, and I caught the smallest smile before he looked away.

I pushed the door open. The room was bigger than anything I’d been given in four years of marriage.

“It’s beautiful,” I said.

“We make everything in the realm beyond expectations. Although you wolves hate to admit it,” he said with a scoff. 

I turned to thank him properly, and he was closer than I expected. Close enough that I had to tilt my head to hold his eyes. Neither of us moved for a second too long.

“Ryan—”

“Goodnight, Margaret,” he said, stepping back before I could finish. Whatever he’d almost done, he’d caught it in time. “Sleep. Tomorrow’s a lot to take in.”

He left before I could ask what he meant.

I sat on the edge of the bed once the door clicked shut, hands folded in my lap, and let myself finally feel something. Four years. Gone, just like that. Signed away with a pen he barely bothered to hold still.

I touched my wrist where his fingers had dug in earlier. The bruise hadn’t even formed yet, and already I could feel it settling in, the same way every mark he’d ever left on me had settled, quiet, invisible and permanent.

I thought I’d feel free. Instead I felt hollowed out, like something had been scooped from my chest and nobody had bothered to fill the space back in.

Zach’s voice looped in my head. You have no money. No pack. No family that wants you. You’ll be back here in a week.

Maybe he was right. Maybe this was borrowed comfort, a room I’d have to give back the moment Ryan realized what everyone else already knew about me.

I caught my reflection in the window glass, dark now against the night outside. Large Marge, staring back, dressed in someone else’s kindness.

“Stop it,” I whispered to myself. “He’s not here. Let it go.”

But letting go has never come easy to me. Not once in twenty-four years.

I lay back against the pillows, telling myself I’d cry later, that I’d allow myself exactly one night to mourn a marriage that I had poured my all into. Then I’d start over. Whatever that meant, wherever I was.

I was almost asleep when the voices reached me.

Raised. Coming from down the hall. I slipped out of bed and crept to my door. It sounded like Garret’s voice, low and furious.

“…she cannot stay here, Ryan. Not that girl. Not in this house.”

My hand froze halfway to the knob of the door. My heart began to race. 

“Why?” Ryan’s voice, harder than I’d heard it all night. “What do you know that I don’t?”

Was this it? The end of my grace? How right could Zach be that I'd be back before I know it. I had this urge to walk out of my room so I could hear them properly. But my legs remained fixed to the ground. 

The hallway was silent for a while, then Garret spoke, quieter now, almost afraid.

“She has to go. Immediately.”

***********************