Chapter 7

Clara’s POV

When I got back to the packhouse, Caleb still wasn’t home.

The maid who’d been assigned to watch me froze for a second when she saw me, then bolted inside. I knew she was going to call Caleb. 

Maybe even Frost. I let out a dry laugh. Of course she would. Frost had always been more like the Luna than I ever was.

Every step hurt. My whole body ached, and the wounds burned like fire. I didn’t even bother with the maid, just felt my way down the hall to the infirmary.

Our pack healer on duty tonight quickly helped me sit down, and started checking the cuts on my forehead and arm.

“What happened?” she asked, frowning as she pressed disinfectant against my skin. The sting made me suck in a breath. “These look like rogue bites. Did something happen out there?”

I didn’t want to talk about it. If I didn’t have to keep up this ridiculous “blind” act, I would’ve patched myself up already. I’d treated worse injuries before — a Luna who trained with warriors knew her way around wounds.

“It’s nothing,” I muttered. “Just an accident. As long as it doesn’t get infected.”

She cleaned and wrapped the cuts carefully. I sat there, staring into space, not really hearing anything until she touched my arm, trying to hand me some ointment.

She must’ve told me how to use it, but I hadn’t heard a word.

Her brows knit together. I knew that she wanted to ask what was wrong. But what was I supposed to say?

That I’d just realized my mate had been sleeping with my maid long before? That everything I thought was love and bond was just one big joke?

She took a breath, like she’d made up her mind to speak. And then the door slammed open. So hard it hit the wall.

Caleb stormed in. His face was dark. “What happened? Is it bad?”

The healer froze, still holding the ointment in midair. Then she remembered to bow. “It’s just a superficial wound. Nothing too serious. She’ll be fine.”

He let out a breath as if he really cared. 

He waved her off, impatient. I looked up, blankly, toward his voice. Frost’s scent clung to him, sharp and sweet, making me want to sneeze.

Couldn’t he at least try to hide it?

I reached out to grab the small medicine bottle the healer had left on the table, but before I could touch it, Caleb snatched it up.

“I’ll do it,” he muttered, shoving the bottle into his pocket, pretending it was some kind of thoughtful gesture.

I didn’t stop him. If he wanted to play the doting husband, fine. Let him.

Today’s already too much for me. I didn’t want to fight again. 

He stared at me, took several deep breaths in front of me, pacing his inhale and exhale like he was trying to reel himself back in. But eventually, he couldn’t hold it anymore and the question slipped out. 

“Why did you pull out all the tulips? And you didn’t even ask me?” he asked, “Do you still remember I’m your Alpha?” 

I can feel he was trying, but his voice still wasn’t as gentle as the one he used in front of others.

“Why, Clara?” he continued, “You just woke up and you’re already trying to show off? Trying to let everyone know that the strong Luna Clara is back?!  And you’re the one giving orders here?”

Suddenly, it clicked. 

He wasn’t mad about those tulips. But because he felt it again—the one thing he’s always been terrified of.

Me. The threat I am to him.

I hadn’t even processed it yet, but I was already laughing. I couldn’t help it. This insecure man.

He narrowed his eyes. “What exactly is so funny?”

“I’m not interested in giving orders, Caleb,” I said.

He froze, eyes flicking side to side as if searching for the right response. “I mean…you need to take care of yourself first. You still need rest.”

“I will,” I slid off the cot, and he suddenly scooped me into his arms.

“Let’s go,” he said. “I’ll take you upstairs.”

“Hey—” I tried to protest, but he held me tighter, carrying me straight to our bedroom.

He only let me down once we reached the bed.

He laid me down on the bed, then slipped in beside me, hands on mine like we always did before. Frost’s scent hit me like a wave—so thick it made my skin crawl.

I shifted away, unable to hide it. “You smell… sweet today. Like Frost.” I paused. “Was she there too? At the meeting.”

His heartbeat spiked in the quiet room. “Y-yeah… Logan and the others wanted her there. They said her jokes were funny.”

Funny.

My jaw tightened, but I forced a bitter smile. “Oh? Then maybe I should hear her jokes next time.”

He didn’t answer. Silence dropped between us like a stone.

I shoved his hands, slipped into my pocket and felt the handkerchief. I pulled it out and rolled the fabric between my fingers. It made me feel safe.

Caleb’s eyes flicked over. His nostrils flared. His gaze locked on the handkerchief instantly.

“Where did you get that?” His voice sharpened, cutting.

I didn’t have the energy to soothe his unstable ego again, so I lied. “A woman gave it to me after I got hurt.”

He stared for a beat. Then, without warning, he snatched it out of my hands and tossed it into the trash. Hard.

Shock shot through me, then anger surged right after. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

I stood to grab it back. It was Xavier’s. He’d lent it to me. And maybe one day I’d get to return it.

Caleb grabbed my arm, yanking me back onto the bed. His grip was bruising. Possessive.

“Don’t lie to me, Clara,” he hissed, breath hot against my skin. “I can smell another wolf on it. A male.”

“Oh?” I arched my brow. “Maybe he just has some funny jokes too.”

He growled and leaned in,  “Don’t mock me. I’m your Alpha.”

I tried to pull away, but he only tightened his grip. Then he crashed his mouth onto mine. I clenched my teeth, but he forced his tongue past my lips anyway.

By the time he finally pulled back, my mind was blank. My body limp.

His kiss held no love, only ownership and power over me.

He pressed a soft kiss to my forehead, as if he hadn’t been crushing the breath out of me seconds ago.

“You’re mine, Clara,” he murmured.

Then his phone rang.

He jumped to answer it. And a sweet, sugary voice flowed from the speaker.

“Hey, baby. What time are you coming over tonight?”

My chest froze.