Chapter Eight: My pack

(Elara's POV)

The air in the pack house was heavy with expectation, a tension that settled in my bones like lead. I could hear the murmurs of my pack members, their laughter echoing in the grand hall below. I stood on the second floor, peering down through the ornate balustrade, dread pooling in my stomach. I wish I hadn't but I had returned to Damon’s side the day after I stumbled upon his infidelity, unwilling to let go of hope for our unborn children.

Damon stood beneath me, surrounded by a small group of our pack. He wore that wicked grin—the one that could dissolve any sense of peace I had left. Despite knowing he was unfaithful, something inside me still craved his approval, his strength. He's my alpha anyway, I carry his mark so I'm naturally drawn to him even when he despises my presence.

“Look who graced us with her presence,” Damon called, tilting his head back to meet my gaze. The words were laced with mockery, drawing the crowd's attention. The pack shifted, their smirks cutting at my heart like daggers. I felt the heat rise to my cheeks as laughter wrapped around me, squeezing my pride until it crumbled.

“Can we all give a round of applause for Elara, our sweet little trophy bride?” His tone dripped with contempt, and I could sense the thrill it gave him to reduce me to nothing more than a punchline.

I could hear snickers in the crowd, their eyes darting between Damon and me. I held my breath, trying to keep my composure. They didn’t see the bruises beneath my skin—Damon's verbal attacks were often much worse. Each jeer, each laughter felt like the final nail in a coffin heavy with despair.

“Maybe she’ll grow more mature after bearing some actual heir?” he taunted, his words slicing through the laughter, forcing silence upon the room.

I could feel the heat of shame washing over me, heavy and suffocating, but I forced myself to reply. “One day, Damon. You’ll see me to be more than just your possession,” I managed to say with a shaky breath. My voice was barely above a whisper, yet the determination to stand my ground surged within me. Today was not going to be the day I let him see my fear.

Damon stepped closer, a predator stalking its prey. “I see you think you’re clever, Elara. But remember this: loyalty is not a luxury I can afford. You were chosen, but don’t mistake your position. You're only as strong as I let you be.”

The caveat in his sentence chilled me, a reminder of how little power I held in our relationship. The words “chosen” echoed back to me—a twisted notion of fate that had become a curse. I wanted desperately to resist, but fear anchored me in place. How could I protect my children when my own mate’s cruelty was so deeply embedded in the very fabric of our pack?

Just then, another sharp crack echoed through the hall, drawing my attention away from Damon. I watched in horror as a lower-ranking member, Marcus, was dragged to the center of the room. He had disobeyed Damon’s orders—the kind of mistake that could cost him dearly.

Expecting mercy had never served me well; I saw the truth unfolding before my eyes, a grim display that churned my stomach. Damon’s expression was one of cold amusement as he watched two enforcers drag Marcus to his knees, the pack's laughter transforming into a menacing silence draped in anticipation.

"Maybe this will teach all you little mutts what happens to those who defy me!" Damon’s voice boomed, shaking the hall, rattling my very core. I shivered, knowing what was coming—and oh, how predictable it was.

The first punch landed with a sickening thud, the sound mingling with the whimpers of the crowd. I was transfixed, unable to look away as Damon watched with sadistic pleasure, relishing every blow as if it were a performance crafted solely for him.

And still, I was not surprised. I had seen him lash out before, and had been subjected to his wrath in both light and darkness. I felt each crack of Marcus's bones echoing in my own body. The fear in my heart was not for Marcus, but for myself and my children. Damon was a monster, and I had returned to him for the sake of the very lives that were now growing inside me.

“Stop!” I finally shouted, my voice rising above the crowd’s anticipation, a desperate plea that carried no weight. I tightened my fists, prepared to protest against the very foundations of my servitude. But Damon’s piercing gaze found me, and the humor drained from his expression.

“What did you say?” he demanded, stepping closer, bringing the stench of arrogance and danger with him.

“Enough, Damon. It’s not right,” I challenged, though trepidation clawed at my insides. But as his lips curled into a dangerous smile, I felt my heart pound louder. I wanted to be brave, to show the pack I was strong, but part of me mourned the life I had left behind.

“These are my orders, Elara.” He stepped completely beside me, a hushed silence falling over the room. I could feel the oppressive weight of his dominance, the unyielding nature of his alpha status. “If you cannot accept that, you may find yourself in Marcus’s position. You wouldn’t want that, now would you?”

My instincts screamed at me to flee, yet I stood rooted to the spot, the electricity of fear knitting me to the floor. I looked at Marcus, beaten and broken. His pain was a reflection of my own—a truth I couldn’t escape. I had made my choice, had returned to this life for my children, yet standing before Damon’s cruelty filled me with bitterness and disgust.

Turning on my heel, I rushed away from the railing, needing to escape the reality that pressed upon me like a stone. But even as I distanced myself from the laughter and cruelty, I knew that this would not be the last I heard of that dark part of my mate.

I was trapped, bound to him by fate, and returning now felt more like a prison than a sanctuary. As I retreated to my room, the weight of what I had seen anchored me further into despair. I thought of Kaelen—the better alpha who embodied kindness and strength. But still, as darkness pooled beneath my lashes, reality set back in. I had a duty now—to raise the lives forming within me in a world that felt more like a nightmare than a family.

Tomorrow will be another day, another battle. But today? Today was just one more reminder of the cruel nature of my mate, a beast masquerading behind a façade of honor. And for our twins, I would have to grow stronger, hiding my fear and forging through the shadows he cast. Because they deserved a mother who would fight for them—even if that meant standing against the very man I'm mated to.