Chapter 8 – A Silent Absence

Letting go of my insecurities never felt so good.

In the days leading up to the fashion show, a curious sense of ease had settled over me, a tranquility I hadn't felt since Axel's death.

Anderson is the architect of this newfound peace. He texts me almost every hour, his messages a constant stream of questions and reassurances. He wants to know everything about me, what I was doing, where I was going, and who I was meeting.

His possessiveness, once a startling jolt, now felt like a warm embrace, a clear sign of his unrelenting focus on me. He is so incredibly invested, so unequivocally present in my fledgling new life, that slowly, irrevocably, my protective walls begin to crumble. The fortress I had built around my heart, brick by painful brick, starts to give way under the relentless warmth of his attention.

I was already looking forward to my upcoming visit to Eclipse Howl, his pack.

My mind buzzed with questions about my future home, about their customs, and most importantly, about their attitude toward outsiders, especially one who had only just found her place among humans.

I questioned my mate relentlessly, eager to find out if I had any rivals I needed to be wary of, any lingering intimate attachments he might have.

Anderson assured me that no one would dare to disrespect me or even lay a finger on me. He mentioned the strict code of his Alpha, constant warnings for high-ranking members of his pack like himself to maintain propriety in their relationships. He confessed that while he was not a virgin anymore, he had always been extremely careful with his escapades, never letting them interfere with his duties or private life.

"My Alpha always told us," he had written in one text, "to never settle, to wait for the true mate. He said any other relationship would be empty, a mere shadow of what's meant to be."

 And now that he had met me, he knew the Alpha had been right.

No one else held a true claim and the terms of his previous relationships had been clear, built on mutual understanding, never on the deep, soul-binding connection we already share. My feelings for Anderson grew with each passing hour, blossoming from a hesitant acceptance to a deep, burgeoning affection.

I cannot wait to see him after the fashion show, to truly begin this new chapter with him by my side.

Slowly, subtly, he had become an undeniable part of my life, weaving himself into the fabric of my days, and I had fully accepted him, completely, utterly. Our mate bond was real, a palpable force, and I was determined to work hard to make it last, to cherish this second chance.

Eventually, the big day arrived, the day of my debut on the catwalk.

The air in the boutique was electric with anticipation, a mix of nervous energy and excited chatter. Together with Mr. Andrew, I moved through the bustling backstage area, inspecting the remaining models, offering encouraging words, and scrutinizing the new designs we would be showcasing. The fabrics shimmered under the bright lights, the designs bold and innovative.

Even now, hours before the show, we already know with a quiet confidence that this event would be both a media and financial success. We had secured the best fashion designers, young, brilliant minds who were honor graduates from prestigious universities, their creativity boundless.

As we entered the bustling dressing room, a vibrant chaos of hairspray, makeup brushes, and hurried whispers, Margie, a colleague with a perpetually cheerful demeanor, approached me. The smile on her face was wide, almost splitting it, a testament to her excitement.

If tonight was a success, the store would be flooded tomorrow, and so would her commission, a substantial bonus that would make her month.

"Anna, darling, you look absolutely radiant!" she gushed, her eyes sparkling. She complimented me lavishly on my debut, predicting, "You will be the most captivating model of the evening, I just know it! Many women from high society are in the VIP section tonight, their purses are full, and they are eager to spend. You'll make us all a fortune!"

Her enthusiasm was infectious, momentarily distracting me from my own nerves.

As the event started, the main hall transformed into a vibrant spectacle.

The host, a charismatic man with a booming voice, effortlessly elevated the atmosphere, his energy infectious. Soon, the initial polite stiffness of the guests melted away, and they began to relax, their murmurs growing louder, their laughter more frequent.

 The first models walked onto the catwalk, gliding with practiced grace, and the enthusiasm with which they were received was heartwarming, a collective gasp of appreciation echoing through the room.

Online orders started pouring in even before the last model left the stage, and Mr. Andrew, discreetly stealing a glimpse from backstage, could barely conceal his satisfied grin. This was exactly what he had hoped for.

Half an hour into the show, my turn was still a while away, I peeked through the heavy velvet curtains, my eyes scanning the crowd, searching. To my growing disappointment, Anderson was still not there.

A pang of worry, sharp and cold, shot through me. He was probably just caught up in a last-minute assignment from his Alpha, an unavoidable duty that often came with his high rank,  I tried to reassure myself.

But an hour later, the ache in my chest intensified.

He was still nowhere to be seen. In ten minutes, I had to go on stage. My phone was out of reach, tucked away in my bag, a golden rule of the fashion house during shows. During these high-stakes events, there was no time for casual conversations or texts, no distractions. So, I had no choice but to wait, to push down the rising tide of unease, until everything was over. Still, I held on to a desperate sliver of hope that my mate, my Beta, would arrive on time, that I would see his familiar face in the crowd.

Finally, the moment arrived.

My name was called, and I stepped onto the stage, the bright lights momentarily blinding me. I swayed my hips, a broad, professional grin plastered on my face, projecting confidence I didn't entirely feel.

Anderson was still absent.

His seat in the front row, which he had assured me he would reserve, remained empty. I suppressed my frustration, pushing it down, down, down, and focused on the highly enthusiastic guests who admired me, their applause a roaring tide.

As I completed my walk, twirling gracefully at the end of the catwalk and pausing for a final showcase of my outfit, I was met with a thunderous standing ovation. The applause was deafening, exhilarating, a roar of approval that vibrated through the very floor.

"She's absolutely stunning!" I heard one woman gasp from the front row, her voice piercing the din. "Did you see that confidence? Who is she?" Another exclaimed, "That dress just came alive on her! She's mesmerizing!"

"She has such a unique look!" someone else shouted from the VIP section now. "And that red dress? It's like it was made for her!"

"I'm buying that outfit right now!" another woman declared, her voice filled with excitement. "She makes everything look incredible!"

I bowed gracefully, a genuine smile now touching my lips, acknowledging the overwhelming appreciation that surged from every corner of the hall. With a confident flourish, I return to the vibrant buzz of the dressing room. My heart was still heavy, but the rush of the performance, the roaring approval, momentarily pushed the disappointment to the background.

I collapsed onto a chair, the exhaustion finally catching up to me. All I needed tonight was to see the admiration in my man's eyes, to feel his pride, his love. But it was absent without notice, he failed me.

Over the past few days, he has proven himself to be incredibly caring and loving, attentive, reassuring, devoted. I had no reason to doubt him yet. Surely, he had a good excuse for his absence.

A critical mission, a last-minute call from his Alpha, something truly unavoidable.