3 - LAST PLACE THAT FEELS LIKE HERS

The music from the foyer faded into a dull hum as Penelope reached the top of the stairs.

The upstairs hallway was dim and quiet, lined with heavy closed doors and thick carpets that muffled her footsteps. Her bare feet sank into the plush fabric as she turned away from the main guest rooms and walked toward the west wing.

She didn't bother checking her old bedroom down the main corridor. She already knew someone else would be living there, and she didn't have the energy to look at her replaced furniture.

Her fractured ribs throbbed with a constant, burning ache. Every breath she took felt tight and restricted.

She just wanted to sit in the dirt for a few minutes.

At the very end of the hall was the glass door that led into the indoor greenhouse.

It used to be her sanctuary. Madeline had let her plant whatever she wanted in the long wooden planter boxes that lined the glass walls. They spent hours in there together when Penelope was little, pressing tiny seeds into the damp soil and separating medicinal herbs for the pack doctor.

Penelope rested her hand on the handle.

She pushed the door open, desperate for the rich scent of wet earth and crushed mint.

The sharp smell of turpentine and oil paint hit her instead.

Penelope stopped in the doorway and let her hand fall to her side.

The wooden planter boxes were gone. The dirt had been swept away, replaced by smooth white tiles that reflected the moonlight shining through the glass ceiling.

A sleek black piano sat in the corner where her favorite rose bushes used to grow. Canvases and wooden easels were scattered across the bright space, surrounded by expensive art supplies and cups filled with watercolor brushes.

Every single trace of the garden had been erased.

Penelope stood frozen. She stared at a half-finished painting of the pack house resting on a tall stand.

She had prepared herself to lose her title as an heiress. She even expected to lose her place at the dinner table tonight. But this room was the only thing that actually belonged to the private bond she shared with her mother.

"What are you doing down this end of the hall?"

Penelope didn't turn around.

Orion’s footsteps slowed behind her. He walked up to the open door and stopped when he realized what she was looking at.

The silence stretched between them for several seconds.

Orion looked at the easels, and then he looked at the dirt smudged on Penelope’s prison uniform. He remembered how Madeline used to scold her for tracking mud into the main house from this exact room.

He swallowed hard.

"Stella needed a place with natural light," Orion said, his voice dropping lower than before.

Penelope didn't say anything.

"Nobody was using it," he added, shifting his weight awkwardly. "The herbs were just dying anyway after you... well, after you left."

"It's fine, Alpha."

Orion winced at the formal title. He reached up and rubbed the back of his neck.

"Look, I can have the staff set up a small box for you on the back patio," he started, sounding genuinely unsure for the first time. "If you want to plant some of your—"

"Orion, I can't find my silver hairpin for the banquet!"

Quick footsteps echoed down the corridor before he could finish his sentence. Stella hurried around the corner, holding the skirt of her pink dress up so she wouldn't trip over the fabric.

She stopped dead when she saw them standing outside the glass doors.

Stella looked at the bright art studio, and then her eyes snapped to Penelope’s bruised face. The panic set in instantly.

"Oh, Penelope," Stella gasped, pressing a hand over her heart.

Her eyes filled with tears in seconds. Her bottom lip trembled as she rushed forward and stood right next to Orion.

"I am so sorry," Stella cried, her voice cracking perfectly. "I had no idea this was your special place. Nobody told me you used to play in here."

Penelope looked at her. It was a massive greenhouse built onto the side of the main estate. Everyone in the pack knew what it used to be.

"I feel terrible," Stella continued, wiping a tear from her cheek. "I will have the staff move my things out right now. We can bring the dirt back in tomorrow morning and fix it."

Orion’s posture shifted immediately. The guilt he felt a minute ago vanished the second his sister started crying.

He wrapped his arm around Stella’s waist and pulled her close to his side.

"You aren't moving anything, Stella," Orion said firmly.

Stella looked up at him with wide, wet eyes. "But it is her room. I took her room, Orion, and she just got back."

"It is just a room," Orion insisted, rubbing her shoulder. "You need the space for your painting. Penelope doesn't even have any seeds right now anyway."

Penelope watched him comfort his sister. She felt absolutely numb.

Two years ago, she would have fought for this space. She would have cried and reminded him that Madeline gave it to her for her birthday.

"Keep it," Penelope said softly.

Stella sniffled and looked over Orion’s arm. "Are you sure? I really don't mind sharing with you, if you just want a corner for your pots—"

"I said keep it."

Orion glared at Penelope. "Don't speak to her like that. She is trying to be generous to you, and you are just throwing it back in her face."

"I am not throwing anything," Penelope said.

She finally turned away from the studio and looked Orion in the eyes. Her gaze was flat and hollow.

"You don't have to protect her from me," Penelope told him. "I didn't come back here to take her things. I don't want the room, and I don't want her apologies."

Orion crossed his arms over his chest. "Then what do you want? Because right now you are just acting like a martyr."

"I want to make sure the Luna is healthy," Penelope said.

Orion frowned. "Madeline is fine."

"She fainted twice before I went away, and you said in the car that she was sick again," Penelope replied quietly. "She raised me. I owe her for that."

Stella twisted her delicate hands together. "Madeline has me now, Penelope. I take care of her."

Penelope ignored Stella entirely. She kept her focus on the man who used to read her bedtime stories when she was afraid of storms.

"Once I know she is stable, my debt to this family is paid," Penelope said.

Orion let out a harsh laugh and shook his head. "Right. So you are just going to skulk around the halls until you feel like you have proven some sort of point?"

He assumed it was an empty threat. He thought she was just angry and wanted them to beg her to stay.

Penelope took a step back, putting more distance between them.

"You don't need to worry about me being in your way, Alpha," Penelope said calmly. "I do not plan to stay in this family forever."