CHAPTER 6: AFTER THE LAUGHTER

I don't remember leaving the hall.

The moments blurred together like watercolors in rain—colors bleeding into each other until nothing made sense anymore. One second I was on my knees, screaming as the bond shattered. The next, hands were on me, pulling me upright with rough efficiency.

Not gentle hands.

Not helping hands.

Hands that wanted me gone.

I remember the sound of laughter following me like teeth at my back. Sharp. Vicious. The kind of laughter that found joy in watching someone break.

"So dramatic," someone scoffed from the crowd.

"Typical omega," another voice said, dripping with contempt. "Always making everything about themselves."

"Did she really think Adrian would choose her?"

"Delusional."

The words swirled around me, each one a small knife finding soft places to cut. My vision swam. My legs wouldn't hold me properly. Everything hurt—my chest, my head, my soul.

But worse than the pain was the silence inside me.

My wolf didn't answer.

She had always been there, a constant presence humming beneath my skin. Even when life was cruel, even when I was alone, she had been my companion. My strength. The part of me that refused to give up.

Now there was nothing.

Just empty, terrifying silence where she used to be.

That terrified me more than the pain.

More than Adrian's rejection.

More than the pack's laughter.

Because without my wolf, what was I?

Just human. Breakable. Nothing.

"Elena." My father's voice cut through the fog, sharp and commanding. "Stand up properly."

I tried. My knees buckled again.

His hand closed around my arm, fingers digging in hard enough to bruise. He hauled me to my feet with no gentleness, no care for the fact that I could barely stand.

"Get up," he hissed in my ear. "You are humiliating us."

Not me. Not yourself.

Us.

Because to him, my pain was just an inconvenience. An embarrassment. Something that reflected poorly on his reputation.

"I—I can't breathe," I whispered.

My chest felt too tight, like someone had wrapped iron bands around my ribs and was slowly squeezing. Each breath came shallow and painful, barely enough air to keep me conscious.

The bond was gone, but the wound it left behind was drowning me.

"You lost that right when you imagined yourself above your station," Father said coldly. He started dragging me toward the side doors, away from the platform, away from the celebration. "Do not call me Father again."

The words hit like a slap.

"What?" I gasped.

"You heard me." His grip tightened. "You are no daughter of mine. Not after this spectacle."

"Father, please—"

"I said do not call me that." He jerked me forward, nearly making me fall again. "A daughter would have known her place. A daughter would have been grateful for the life she was given instead of reaching for things that were never hers."

"The bond was real," I managed. "It was real, I felt it—"

"You felt nothing," he snapped. "You fabricated a fantasy because you could not accept what you are. A weak omega. A burden. A mistake."

Each word was precise. Calculated. Designed to destroy whatever was left of me.

"Mother wouldn't have—"

His hand moved so fast I didn't see it coming. The slap cracked across my face, sharp and stunning. My head snapped to the side, pain exploding through my cheek.

The nearby pack members went silent, watching.

"Do not speak of your mother," Father said quietly, dangerously. "She died bringing you into this world. The least you could do is not disgrace her memory with your lies."

Tears burned my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. Not here. Not in front of everyone.

"I didn't lie," I whispered.

"You did." He resumed dragging me toward the exit. "You lied to yourself. You lied to this pack. And you tried to destroy your sister's happiness because you were jealous."

"That isn't what happened—"

"It is exactly what happened." We reached the side doors. Father shoved them open with his free hand, the cool night air rushing in. "Bianca has everything you wanted. Beauty. Strength. An Alpha's love. And you could not stand it."

"I love Bianca," I said desperately. "I never wanted to hurt her—"

"Then why did you claim her mate?" His eyes blazed with anger. "Why did you spread lies about a bond that never existed? Why did you try to ruin the most important night of her life?"

"I didn't! Adrian and I, we were together for three years. In secret. He told me we had to wait, that we would announce it when the time was right—"

"Lies." Father's voice rose. "All of it, lies. Adrian has confirmed it himself. There was no secret relationship. No bond. Nothing. You invented a fantasy and tried to force it into reality."

"He is lying, not me!"

"An Alpha heir lies, but an omega tells the truth?" Father laughed, the sound bitter and cruel. "Do you hear yourself? Do you understand how insane you sound?"

We were outside now, in the gardens behind the pack hall. The celebration continued inside, muffled but still audible. Music. Laughter. The sounds of joy.

Everything I would never have.

"Listen to me," I said, my voice breaking. "Please, just listen—"

"I am done listening." Father released me abruptly. I stumbled, barely catching myself on a stone pillar. "I am done pretending you are anything other than a disappointment."

"Father—"

"Marcus," he corrected coldly. "You will address me as Beta Marcus from now on. You have lost the privilege of familiarity."

The words cut deeper than anything Adrian had said.

Because Adrian was supposed to be my mate. His betrayal, while devastating, made a twisted kind of sense. Mate bonds could be rejected. Love could die.

But this was my father.

The man whose blood I shared. Who had raised me. Who was supposed to protect me no matter what.

And he was disowning me.

"You cannot mean that," I whispered.

"I mean every word." He straightened his jacket, composing himself. "When we return inside, you will apologize to Adrian and Bianca publicly. You will confess that you lied. You will beg their forgiveness."

"I won't." The words came out stronger than I felt. "I won't lie about what happened."

His eyes narrowed. "You will do as I say."

"No."

The slap came faster this time. Harder. My vision exploded with stars, and I tasted blood.

"You will obey," Father said quietly, "or you will face consequences worse than embarrassment."

I pressed my hand to my bleeding lip, staring at him. At this man who shared half my DNA but looked at me like I was something he scraped off his shoe.

"What consequences?" I asked, my voice hollow.

"The Alpha is considering your punishment," he said. "Spreading false claims about the heir is a serious offense. Some elders are calling for exile. Others want you stripped of what little rank you have and sent to the border territories."

My blood went cold.

Border territories. Where rogues attacked regularly. Where omegas sent there rarely survived more than a season.

"That is a death sentence," I whispered.

"That is justice." Father's expression didn't change. "You tried to undermine the future Alpha. To create discord in the pack. To damage Bianca's reputation. Did you think there would be no consequences?"

"I told the truth!"

"You told lies!" His voice rose again. "And now you will pay for them. Unless—"

He paused, letting the word hang between us.

"Unless what?" I asked warily.

"Unless you cooperate." His tone softened slightly, but not with kindness. With calculation. "Apologize. Confess your lies. Beg forgiveness. Do that, and perhaps the Alpha will show mercy. Perhaps he will allow you to remain in the pack as a servant."

A servant.

Not even an omega with minimal rank.

A servant. The lowest possible position. No rights. No voice. No hope of ever being anything more.

"And if I refuse?" I asked.

"Then you will be cast out." Father said it simply, like he was discussing the weather. "Stripped of your pack bonds. Sent into the human territories with nothing. No protection. No resources. No family."

"You would do that?" My voice broke. "You would let them exile me? Let me die?"

"You did this to yourself, Elena." His expression was stone. "I gave you a home. A place in this pack despite your weakness. And you repaid me with lies and humiliation. Whatever happens to you now, you earned it."

He turned toward the doors, preparing to return to the celebration.

"Wait," I said desperately. "Please, just wait—"

"I have given you your options," he said without looking back. "Confess and beg, or face exile. The choice is yours. You have until the end of the ceremony to decide."

"How long is that?"

"An hour. Maybe less." He glanced back, his expression cold. "I suggest you choose wisely. Pride is worth nothing when you are dying alone in the woods."

He walked back inside.

The doors swung shut behind him with a heavy, final sound.

And I stood there in the gardens, alone in the darkness, my face bleeding and my wolf silent and my entire world crumbling around me.

Inside, the music swelled. Someone was toasting the new couple. I could hear Adrian's voice, warm and happy, thanking the pack for their support.

He sounded nothing like the cold, distant man who had rejected me.

He sounded like someone celebrating.

Like he had won.

Maybe he had.

I pressed my hand to my chest, to the place where the bond used to be. There was nothing there now. Just an empty, aching void that pulsed with phantom pain.

My wolf was still silent.

"Please," I whispered to her. "Please come back. I need you."

Nothing.

Just the terrible, crushing silence of being completely and utterly alone.

I looked at the pack hall, at the warm light spilling from the windows, at the shapes of wolves moving inside. Celebrating. Happy. Together.

Everything I wasn't.

Everything I would never be again.

I had two choices.

Go back inside. Confess to lies I didn't tell. Beg forgiveness from the people who destroyed me. Live as a servant with no hope of ever being anything more.

Or refuse. Keep my truth. Face exile into human territories where I would likely die within days.

Neither option was really living.

But one let me keep my dignity.

The pack doors stood closed and solid before me, warm light glowing around the edges.

And as I stood there, bleeding and broken and alone, no one came looking for me.

No one checked to see if I was alright.

No one questioned what had happened.

The pack doors slammed shut behind me—and no one followed.