Thirty Days With The Mate

Sera POV

Dad’s hand scrabbles at the side of his chair until I drop to my knees beside him. His skin looked pale, and his hands trembled. I could feel his pulse fluttering weak under my palm as I held his hand.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, voice rattling like there’s broken glass in his lungs. “This is my fault…”

“No. Stop.” I said but my voice was broken. “You didn’t do this. They did.”

“If I hadn’t signed that clause…”

“Dad.” I pressed his hands tightly into mine, I could feel the warmth and fear in them. “You were just trying to save us. This isn’t on you. I’ll handle it.”

Mom’s standing right behind me, tears streaking her face, lips pressed together so hard they’re now white. She can’t even speak. She just folds her arms around herself like if she lets go, she’ll shatter.

My chest feels like it’s caving in.

I stood up and turned to Elder Morrison. “Fine. I’ll do it.” My voice was hoarse, but it didn’t shake. “I will stay for thirty days. Whatever it takes.”

Elder Morrison shuts the book loudly, feeling satisfied. The sound of it irritates me. “Very well. Supervisor Chender will meet you at the house.”

Kaelen hadn't moved yet, he was still standing like a statue with a fist hand. He doesn’t look at me. He doesn’t look at anyone. But when he finally turns and walks out, his steps hammer against the floor like he’s daring it to crack.

I followed him, and each of my steps felt chained.

---

As we stepped outside, the cool air hit my face like it had been waiting to paint it. The moon light shone brightly above us. My car was still in the parking lot like nothing’s changed, but everything has.

Mom hurriedly walked towards me, cupping my face with her warm hands. Her hand’s trembling. “Maybe it won’t be so bad,” she says, voice soft and cracked, like she’s trying to convince herself more than me.

I almost laughed. It comes out rough, broken. “It’s thirty days, Mom. I can survive thirty days of anything.”

Her eyes say she doesn’t believe me, same as mine too.

I stepped into the car. The engine roars as it is ignited. My bag sitting in the backseat seems to be much heavier than my heart, as if all my choices are filled inside.

The journey was boring, each turn against the windshield felt like diving deeper into an endless ocean. Each corner of Revenwood looks different tonight, mean and small. My hand grip the wheel tightly.

The neutral house is not far away now, just two more blocks and I will arrive. The house looks kinda old, the paint peeling in long strips, porch sagging like it’s tired of standing. A plaque by the door shone with red light: Neutral Territory – Pack Law Applies. It looks like a warning.

The supervisor was already waiting. Mrs. Chendra. She looks younger than her age, but her grey hair, pulled back tight didn't hide her old age, her face lined from years of watching people like me get shoved into this nightmare. She hands me a key and a stapled packet. “Schedule’s inside. Rules on the fridge. Room upstairs, second door on the right.” Her voice is flat, efficient. She’s done this too many times.

The house smells of dust and disinfectant inside. The walls are pale, beige, and humming slightly with that type of silence that too many secrets soaked into wood can constitute.

My room is small. Single bed. Dresser. Streetlamps buzz through the window. Clean but lifeless. I lay my bag aside, and sit along the side of the mattress. It sinks beneath my burden with a squeak of protest.

The front door opens. Heavy steps approach, the slam of footsteps against the wood floor. Kaelen, He’s here.

Kealen didn't even say a word to supervisor Chendra, he just strolled past my door, and went straight to his room. The loud bang of his door closing made the paintings on the wall vibrate.

I can feel his presence, his intimidating posture.

My phone buzzes. Mom’s text lights the screen: Dad’s stable. Try to rest.

Rest? How can I rest when I am going to be living with someone that hates me. The word sounds like a joke.

I’m staring at the wall when his door opens again. His footsteps pause in the hallway. He went straight to the main entrance and slid the metal lock. And finally, we are both locked into a house, only me and him.

My pulse slams in my throat. I close my eyes and force air into my lungs, slow and shallow. Thirty days. That’s all it is.

Thirty days trapped with the man who just called me unworthy in front of everyone I’ve ever known.

Thirty days to survive.