Chapter 4: Exile and Encounters

Alaina

I was casted out.

Exiled from the Moonridge Pack like a forgotten leader stripped of her crown, I wandered, lost, aching, broken. Every step away from the life I’d once known felt like a cruel echo of failure. The silence around me was deafening, the world too big for the small space I now occupied in it.

"If only I could help you..." Edith’s voice stirred gently within me, her sorrow lacing through every word. My heart clenched with guilt. I walked on, arms wrapped tightly around myself as though they could hold together all the shattered parts of me.

"You already do," I murmured, brushing back tangled strands of hair from my face. Hunger gnawed at my stomach, but it was the uncertainty that truly crippled me.

It wasn’t just the loss of my home or the title. I couldn’t shift. No matter how hard I tried, Edith remained trapped inside, her spirit restless. The seal Cole’s father tried to break still held strong. And in that stubborn silence of my wolf, I questioned everything.

Did Cole ever truly accept me?

"He may have been the one fate chose... but I don't think he’s the one our soul yearns for," Edith whispered with something close to hope.

I lifted my gaze toward the sky, clouds heavy and gray above me. Was she right?

"Maybe it doesn't matter anymore," I sighed, dragging in a breath thick with exhaustion. "If I don’t find work, I’ll be labeled rogue. I’ll become a threat, another name in a cautionary tale."

"Then let’s survive, Alaina. We can figure out the rest later."

I nodded, more to her than to myself, and pressed on.

---

The apartment complex was quiet and eerily so. Faded walls, cracked pavement, the kind of stillness that clung like a second skin. I paused at the entrance, taking in the stillness when a door creaked open.

An elderly woman with a sharp stare and a trash bag in hand stepped into view.

"Looking for a place to stay?" Her voice was clipped, suspicious.

I hesitated. "Um, yes..."

"$500 a month, includes utilities," she cut in before I could finish. "That’s $1000 upfront. TV’s in the room. Pick any that's open."

The coldness in her tone nearly made me flinch. Too expensive. I didn’t have a dime, let alone a thousand dollars. If Cole had left me the credit card, maybe…

"I...I’m hoping to get a job soon. Could we possibly work out a lower rate?" I asked, forcing a polite smile.

She narrowed her eyes. "Aren’t you already working? Or are you just wandering, packless?"

The question hit harder than it should have.

"It’s… complicated."

"Then you’re not welcome," she snapped, setting the trash down with finality. "Come back when you have a job."

"Wait! Please..."

The door slammed before I could finish. Alone again. Just me and the wind.

I clenched my fists, jaw tight. "No. I won’t give up. Not again."

---

Hours passed. Rejection after rejection. Hotels, shops, every door closed before I even got a word in. They all wanted details I couldn't give.

Eventually, I found myself in the golden-lit lobby of a luxurious five-star hotel, standing under crystal chandeliers and rich velvet accents. It felt like stepping into another world.

A bulletin board caught my eye—Hiring: Hotel Cleaners.

My heartbeat quickened. I hurried to the reception desk.

“I’m here about the job,” I said, more hopeful than I’d been all day.

The woman behind the counter blinked. "Oh... the cleaning position?"

"Yes. That one."

“Perfect timing. The manager’s been desperate to fill that role. Hold on a moment.” She disappeared into the back.

I stood still, drinking in the opulenc, polished marble floors, the gentle clink of silverware from the dining area, the quiet hush that only wealth could buy. I didn’t belong here, but maybe, just maybe I could earn a place.

The manager returned. Tall, poised, with stern brown eyes that assessed me in seconds.

“You’re looking for work?” she asked.

“Yes.”

“Don’t stutter,” she said coolly. “We get dozens of applicants. Do you have a resume?”

I swallowed. "I don't, but I’ve managed large spaces, worked with teams, led a pack. I’m… adaptable, quick to learn. And I can prove myself."

She said nothing.

"I really need this," I added, my voice lower now. “I haven’t eaten today. Just a chance, that’s all I’m asking.”

Her eyes softened. Barely. "You’ll do one task. Deliver this to a guest room. Room 628."

"I can do that!" I said, relief flooding me.

"You’ll be paid after. We depend on good guest reviews, don’t mess it up," she said flatly before turning on her heel.

I turned to the receptionist, who was now placing a sealed box on the counter.

"You sure you can handle this?" she asked skeptically.

“I’ve stayed in enough hotels to know my way around,” I replied quickly, snatching up the box.

---

I moved through the plush hallways with a confidence I didn’t feel. Room 628. Second floor.

Then I glanced down at the box.

Condoms.

Seriously?

I told myself not to overthink it. Hotels stocked all sorts of things. This was just another delivery.

I knocked twice. No answer.

Just as I raised my hand again, the door opened.

And there he was.

Towel around his waist, steam curling around his shoulders, water still clinging to his chest. Tall. Sculpted. Green eyes that saw too much.

Blond hair. Strong jaw. Familiar.

My heart sank.

Adrian Martinez

Alpha of the Blackwood Pack. I remembered that face too well, from the banquet, from the whispers in hushed voices.

Please don’t recognize me…

I forced a tight smile, keeping my eyes fixed on the box in my hands and willing my pulse to steady.