Chapter Seven

CHAPTER SEVEN: The Ghost In The Mirror 

Morning came by fast . I barely got enough sleep

I woke up with the scent of forest and cocoa still clinging to my skin, a physical weight that made my stomach churn.

 Every time I moved, the friction of the sheets reminded me of the way Liam’s hands had felt rough, possessive, and entirely forbidden.

I scrubbed myself in the shower until my skin was raw, desperate to wash away the evidence of my betrayal before I had to face her.

“Kaira? Are you awake, sweetie?”

My mother’s voice through the door made me jump, nearly slipping on the wet floor 

“Yeah, Mom, just a second,” I called back, my voice sounding thin and fake to my own ears.

When I finally stepped into the kitchen, she was there, looking radiant in a cream colored sweater, her hair pulled back in a soft clip. She looked happy. She looked like a woman who trusted her life and her daughter completely.

“I thought we could head into the village today,” she said, handing  a cup of coffee toward me. “Just the two of us. 

We haven’t had a real shopping day since the move, and you need some new things for the upcoming pack gala.”

The gala. The event where she would stand beside Liam as his Luna, and I would have to stand in the shadows, pretending I didn’t know the taste of his mouth.

“I will  love that,” I lied, forcing a smile that felt like it was cracking my face.

The village was bustling, a charming stretch of cobblestone streets and boutique shops that catered to the pack’s elite. Under any other circumstance, I would have loved this. But today, every dress I touched felt like lead.

“Oh, Kaira, look at this one!”

My mother pulled a silk gown from a rack, a deep, shinny  emerald. “It would look stunning with your eyes. Liam always says green is the color of the forest after the rain. He has such an eye for detail, doesn't he?”

I felt a sharp, stabbing pain in my chest. Yes, Mom. He has a great eye for detail. Especially when he’s pinning me against a stone wall.

“It’s beautiful,” I whispered, taking the dress from her. My fingers trembled.

As the day went on, the guilt didn't just sit in my stomach it  became a living thing. We sat at a small cafe for lunch, and she spent the whole time talking about her future with Liam how he was the "rock" she had always needed, and how lucky she felt that he had accepted me as his own.

“He cares about you so much, Kaira,” she said, reaching across the table to squeeze my hand. Her wedding ring caught the light, blinding me. “He’s so protective of you. It gives me such peace of mind knowing you’re safe under his authority.”

I had to look away. I watched a stray leaf fly down the street, unable to meet her gaze. Every kind word she said about him felt like a hot iron pressed against my conscience.

 I wanted to scream. I wanted to tell her the truth just to stop the pressure building in my lungs, but I knew it would destroy her.

“You’re very quiet today,” she noted, her brow furrowing with concern. “Is the shift ,   is it still hurting?”

“A little,” I said, seizing the excuse. “It’s just a lot to process. The evaluation, the training, everything.”

“I know, baby. But you have us. We’re a family now.”

Family. The word felt like a dirty joke.

Later, in the dressing room of a high-end boutique, I caught sight of myself in the three-way mirror. 

I was wearing a lace slip, my shoulders bare. I looked at the faint, reddened mark on my collarbone the bruise Liam had left in his hunger.

I quickly pulled my hair forward to hide it, tears stinging my eyes.

I wasn't just Kaira, the late shifter anymore. I was a ghost in my own life, walking through a world I had already betrayed. I looked at my reflection and didn't see a wolf or a daughter. I saw a traitor.

As we walked back to the car, arms filled  with shopping bags, my mother laughed at something I said, leaning her head on my shoulder for a brief second.

She smelled like home. Like vanilla and safety.

And I realized, with a soul crushing certainty, that the more I wanted Liam, the more I was erasing her. The line he drew wasn't just between him and me it was a circle that excluded her entirely. And I was the one holding the match that would eventually burn it all down.