Chapter 5: The Final Strike

Elara's POV

I followed Rhys up the grand staircase. The guest suite door was already open, letting out a rush of humid, overly perfumed air.

Rhys was kneeling beside the bath rug, his massive body shielding Seraphina. She was a tangled mess of silk and carefully mussed hair, nestled right against his chest.

He lifted her easily, carrying her the few feet to the large, ornate bed. She was wearing my favorite navy silk nightgown, a fact that hit me with sudden, unnecessary clarity.

He eased her onto the mattress. Seraphina immediately looked past his shoulder at me, her eyes wet but shrewd. "Rhys, darling, I must take the blame. I was careless. I let water splash out, and I just didn't see the slick spot by the rug. Please, don't blame Elara."

She was handing him the perfect defense: Look how kind I am, even while hurt, to the clumsy Mate.

Rhys didn't even glance at her. He turned his Alpha authority squarely on me.

"You left water on the floor, Elara." His voice was low, cutting through the silence. "You are constantly careless. She's injured, are you happy now?" He looked at me not with hatred, but with a detached annoyance.

Before I could process the insult, the door banged open. Jaxon bolted in, wearing his wolf-paw slippers, his eyes wide with fear. He shoved hard into my right hip to get past me, trying to reach the bed.

The impact was sharp and sudden. A gasp caught in my throat, and I had to plant my palm hard against the doorframe to keep from falling. My bruised side screamed. Jaxon never broke his stride.

He scrambled onto the bed. "Sera! Are you okay? Is the bone broken?"

Seraphina reached out instantly, her face softening into a beatific expression. "Oh, sweet boy. No, just a twist. But I need my brave knight to make it better."

Jaxon, fully focused on his task, took her ankle. He began puffing little, urgent breaths onto her skin. "Blow, blow, make it better! Mommy says that works!"

I stood there, feeling the residual throb in my hip.

I thought of the ugly, pink scar on my hand from the boiling water. I hadn't even shown Jaxon the worst of it. When I was hurt, I got indifference. When she was hurt, she got his entire, panicked focus.

I watched Jaxon's small hand cup her foot. The boy's pure, immediate affection for her was a truth I could no longer deny or dismiss.

Rhys turned his back to me completely, leaning close to Seraphina.

"Elara," he commanded, his voice now nothing more than a functional tool. "The first aid kit. Master bathroom. Move now."

That was it. I was unfit to clean the floor and unfit to apply a bandage. I was only fit to fetch.

I walked toward the master bathroom. My body felt heavy, but my mind was utterly clear. The pain in my side was a dull hum. I didn't feel rage anymore. Just cold, quiet finality.

I grabbed the thick plastic kit, the sound loud in the sterile silence of the marble bathroom.

I walked back. I placed the kit on the floor beside the bed, making sure the thud was loud enough for Rhys to notice.

I was done playing the maid. 

I must leave the Pack.