CHAPTER 6

AUTHOR'S POV 

The air in the room was thick and filled with brewing rage, mostly from Maurice. Veldana staggered to the door, her bare feet pushing against the floorboards. Her skin burned, not just from the liquor she’d foolishly drunk but from the angry red rashes blooming across her arms and back. 

Each rash felt like a punishment for what she had done to Him. Guilt was the only thing she felt. She couldn't blame him; she deserved everything that had befallen her. 

Holding the notes tightly in her palm, she regretted not taking her purse from the waiting room. Frey's manager was nowhere in sight, too. 

Shifting her body painfully forward, she felt uncomfortable. 

Her dignity was shredded into pieces by the side glances of the pack members and Maurice's unrelenting gaze, which was mostly fixed on the silver ring hanging from the chain around her neck. Following his gaze, she shook her head slowly. 

This chain… a weight, a memory of a past she couldn't let go. It had once symbolized their bond and love. 

Six years ago, Maurice forged it; she could remember his reflex hands shaping the metal with a tenderness she hadn't seen since. Her sweet voice, while she sang, encouraging him to carve the ring to its fineness, played in her mind. 

Veldana remembered the promise she had made to him that very day. “ I promise to be by your side through the worst turmoil or pain you ever face.” 

Likewise, he also promised to be by her side, promising they'd get married and live happily with or without her Father's blessing.

Every dream they shared was crushed to nothing by her betrayal. She didn't deserve his forgiveness.

Suddenly, his voice cut through her thoughts, sharp and cold.

“Take it off,” he said, his eyes locked on the ring. “It’s an eyesore.”

Veldana froze momentarily. 

Instinctively, her fingers rose to touch the chain, gripping it like armor. The pack members watched in curiosity, waiting for her to break. 

Gary's chuckle of contempt reached her ears, and she stared at him, wondering what she'd done to him. 

She understood the reason for Maurice's lashes towards her, and she totally accepted everything. But Gary was pleased with whatever was happening to her. 

Her throat stung from the liquor, her voice barely a whisper, but she forced the words out, each one a small act of defiance. “It’s mine. It has nothing to do with you anymore.”

Maurice creased his forehead as another chill settled in the room. He couldn't believe she had refused to take off the chain. 

His jaw tightened, his broad shoulders hunched as if Ry was clawing to break free. His eyes, once warm, now glinted with coldness and spite. Something that made her shudder. 

But not with fear, but with the ache of what she had lost. The guilt was eating her completely in turmoil. 

Veldana remembered the nights when those grey eyes had softened for her, when the ring wasn't just a piece of metal but a promise. 

Now, it was a wound he refused to let heal.

But it wasn't his fault; she had instigated this behavior, and she was ready to undergo more. Hopefully, he would forgive her. 

Hopefully.

Maurice gritted his teeth. There was a war of relentlessness going on within him. He tried to control his rage, but he couldn't, and with one loud snarl, he said.

“Get out!” The command was laced with authority, a force that rippled through the air and pressed against her chest. 

Veldana’s knees jerked violently, her heart pounding faster under her chest. She locked her jaw and straightened, refusing to let him see her crumble.

She turned, her hand fumbling for the doorknob. The door creaked as it swung open, letting in a gust of cold air that hugged her skin. Feeling the chill, Veldana gulped nothing down her throat as she stepped into the night, the gravel path biting into her feet, and the door slammed shut behind her. 

Staring at the dark environment, Veldana’s sharp gaze led her through the path leading out of her guilt. Clutching the stash of notes Gary had earlier thrown, she pushed them all into her short pocket and walked silently. 

She held his irritated face in her memory; her mind was drawn to his ashen words, and the hairs on her skin rose in realization. 

She was never getting him back.

Meanwhile, inside the room, Maurice sat rooted to his spot, his chest heaving in rage, his eyes flickering in unknown misery. The room was undeniably warm, but it did nothing to warm the chill that settled into his bones. 

His lips twitched at the impact of the shards of broken glasses he'd crushed without thinking. 

Blood dripped onto the floorboards, and the pack members gasped in shock.

“Alpha…”

A maid rushed in immediately with a first aid kit. Her eyes darted in fear and panic, confused about what to do.

Maurice turned his cold gaze at her, flicked the kit to the floor, and she shuddered in fear. There was no soothsayer to interpret to her that her presence might cause her inexistence, so she scurried off.

Maurice stood up and went towards the bar, pouring himself a shot of the strongest liquor. Taking a gulp, he placed it roughly on the counter. 

His mind went back to the ring on her neck. He forged that ring for her, poured his soul into making sure the curves were perfect, believing it would bind them together forever. 

Now, it mocked him, a symbol of a bond he'd broken when she chose her pack over him. 

Ry whimperd inside him, urging him to chase her, to rip the chain from her neck and, at the same time, pull her back into his arms. There was no conclusion on what they wanted. But he stayed still, trying to pour himself another liquor.

Fred, hovering over the bar, cleared his throat, his pale face glistening with sweat. 

“Maurice, I…I'm sorry. I thought inviting her would…” he paused, swallowing the lump in his throat.

He glanced at Gary, who sat nonchalantly in his seat, watching them. 

“I don't know.. I thought it would help smooth things over. I didn't mean…”

Maurice turned to stare at him, his gaze cold with a frown on his face. His voice, a low, dangerous growl that silenced the room, mumbled. “ Never decide Veldana again. Do you understand?” 

The words are commanding and dangerous. Fred flinched, his countenance dropping to the floor, and the rest of the pack members staggered backwards, their instincts telling them about the storm brewing from their Alpha.

The pack held its breath, the air thick with the scent of fear and submission. Maurice glanced around for a moment. These people were here to celebrate with him, and right now, he didn't want them here. 

He turned away, his bloody palm swaying. Freezing abruptly, he could still feel her scent. 

Wildflower and vanilla, tinged with the bitter sting of her rashes. 

It lingered in his tongue; he could taste it, and it was haunting him.

He sent her away, but the ache in his chest told him she'd never leave. 

Or did she?