Chapter Six

The scent hit her like a memory she had no permission to forget. It was sweet, soft, and dangerously familiar. Just like twelve years ago. 

Elara’s breath caught as it wrapped around her senses, slipping past her control, settling deep in her chest like something ancient recognizing its own.

Silas.

Her gaze snapped fully to him, he was on the floor.

Not just fallen, broken.

His broad frame trembled violently, one hand gripping the chair leg so hard the wood creaked in protest. Sweat clung to his skin, his jaw locked tight as if he was fighting something feral clawing its way out of him.

And the scent, his scent was spilling. It was everywhere, uncontrolled, exposed, and vulnerable. 

A silence rippled through the room, heavy and suffocating. Everyone felt it, even those who didn't understand it. 

Elara moved instinctively, one step then another and the crowd parted without being told even further after the sudden crowd. Because something in her expression had changed, it wasn't about Greene anymore. 

This was something far more dangerous. "Silas." When she called his name, Calvin's attention snapped to Elara's face. 

That softness didn’t belong to Elara. Not like this. He's trying to get the hang of Silas's sudden collapse but Elara's strange reaction to it was far worse. 

Silas's head snapped up at the sound of his name. Those stormy blue eyes, usually controlled and distant, were wrecked now.  It was raw and exposed. Burning with something that made her chest tighten in a way she didn’t understand.

“Alpha…” he breathed, his voice rough, almost breaking.

The word did something to her, something deeper and behind her, Greene let out a disbelieving laugh. 

“Oh, so now the act changes?” he scoffed, though his voice lacked the same confidence as before. “What is this? Some performance to scare me? He’s just weak, look at him!”

No one laughed and no one even agreed. Everyone seemed to be worried about the sudden melting of Silas to the floor.

And Greene… still didn’t understand. Elara didn’t even look at him.

“Silas,” she said again, quieter this time, it was a command, a pull, and his body reacted instantly. 

His shoulders jerked, his grip tightening as a low, involuntary sound escaped him, something between a groan and a plea. The scent thickened, curling tighter around her like a chain.

He hates himself for this. This is why he hates himself so much but now, even that hate seems to be melting away as the seconds pass. 

Calvin’s voice cut through the tension, sharp and controlled.

“Elara,” Calvin called out like a warning, but she ignored him. 

“Look at me.”

Silas did fully and in that moment, something clicked. Something that made the back of her neck prickle. Silas needed to get out of here as fast as possible. She tried to release more of her pheromones to mask Silas's scent while scanning for ways to smuggle him away without bringing attention to herself. 

"Guards!" Calvin quickly called and they appeared very quickly, "Help Silas, he doesn't seem to be okay at the moment. Take him to his room." 

"No one should touch him." Elara quickly whipped out without a second thought. 

All eyes came to her immediately, "I will deal with him myself." She said with a note of finality, even Calvin shouldn't dare question what she just said. 

Greene took a step back, just one and his eyes darted between them, then everyone, confusion finally cracking through his arrogance. And then, he panicked when he couldn't find Beatrice by his side anymore. 

Fear began to creep into him, "Where's Beatrice?" He asked, seeing himself suddenly feeling cold. It was becoming more real as the seconds passed especially when the guards took a step back on Elara's order. 

Greene staggered slightly, catching his balance on a nearby table. His breathing was uneven now, his eyes...wide, his fears growing stronger, slow, ugly, and real. 

“You…” he started, pointing at Elara with a shaking hand. “You’re… you’re the one?”

No one spoke, no one helped him because now...he was finally seeing it. Elara turned to him at last, and when her gaze landed on him, it wasn't the woman he had known, the Elle who scrubbed his floors or the one he hit at will to his own pleasure. 

It wasn't the quiet girl who bowed her head and whispered apologies. She was something else entirely and that made his panic work up higher. 

“Yes,” she said simply, the word dropped like a verdict, like his doom was already sealed the moment he walked through that door. 

“I am.”

Greene’s mouth opened, closed, and then opened again. 

His mind struggled to catch up, to rearrange every memory he had of her into something that made sense.

“You’re… the President’s…” His voice cracked. “That means… that means…”

“That you threw the President’s daughter out of your house,” Calvin finished for him inaudibly since no one has to know where the president's daughter disappeared to for the past twelve years. 

Then he began to laugh, while Greene's face drained of colour. Beatrice hid deeper into the crowd, slowly finding herself shoving through wolves to get to her father. 

“No… no, that’s not—she—she was—”

“Nothing?” Elara tilted her head slightly, her gaze sharpening. “Say it again.”

He couldn’t, he physically couldn't because now, he understood. The clothes, the silence, the obedience, the power he thought he had...it had never been his. 

It had been hers all along. 

“I…” His knees buckled slightly. “El—Alpha… I didn’t know—”

“No,” she cut in, her voice calm, “You didn’t.”

She took a step closer and he stepped back instinctively. 

“That’s what makes it worse.” The words landed softly. But they hit harder than anything she had said.

Behind her, Silas shifted, still on the floor, still watching her like she was the only one anchoring him to reality. 

Elara felt it again, that pull, that awareness and she furrowed, hating the way her alpha absorbed it without taking it back. 

“Guards.” Her voice rang out, sharp and absolute, and two men stepped forward instantly.

Greene turned, panic fully setting in now.

“Elara, wait—please—listen to me—I didn’t mean—”

“Strip him of his access,” she said, not even looking at him. “Every privilege. Every title he thinks he has.”