Chapter 6

My office was small but functional, walls lined with maps of our territory and the surrounding lands, my desk cluttered with training schedules and supply manifests. It wasn't glamorous, but it was mine. I moved behind the desk and gestured to the chair across from me. Darien didn't sit. He stood rigid, hands clasped behind his back, his eyes sweeping over the room with the same clinical precision he'd used in the breakfast room.

Finally, his gaze settled on me.

"Tell me," he said, his tone flat and dismissive, "what does the sister to the alpha think she can do for this job?"

My jaw tightened. I felt the words like a slap, the condescension dripping from every syllable. He continued before I could respond, his lips curling into something that wasn't quite a sneer. "There are no shopping malls up north. No spas. No luxury. Just cold, hard work."

I scoffed, the sound sharp and bitter. I stood, planting my hands on the desk, leaning forward until we were nearly eye to eye. "You would never find me in a shopping mall," I said, my voice low and controlled. "But among the warriors training. I've earned every scar, every callus, every bruise. I don't need luxury. I need a challenge."

His eyes narrowed, but he didn't interrupt.

"You came here looking for help," I continued, my tone steady. "Anton trusts me to do this job. If you can't respect that, then find someone else. But I won't be disrespected."

“I see.” He leaned forward, his gaze pinning mine. His lip curled, the ghost of a smirk. “Or maybe you’re just looking for an escape. I assure you … Northwind isn’t that.”

“You’re trying to provoke me? Cute, but maybe try a little harder, Darien. I’ve survived worse than your attitude.” I held his gaze, refusing to back down, refusing to be the girl who faded into the background. Not anymore. And then, slowly, his expression shifted. The corner of his mouth twitched, a small smile reaching his face.

"You're not like your younger sister," he observed.

"Thank the gods for that," I said, my voice clipped.

He studied me for another long moment, then nodded once, sharp and decisive. "It's cold up there," he said. "Brutal winters. Minimal supplies. This isn't a holiday."

"I know."

"You'll be isolated. No family. No support. Just you and a pack that doesn't know you."

"I know."

He tilted his head, something almost like respect flickering in his silver eyes. "We're leaving immediately. You have five minutes to pack."

I crossed my arms, letting a small, satisfied smile tug at my lips. "I packed last night."

That caught him off guard. His eyebrows rose just a fraction, and for the first time since we'd met, he looked genuinely surprised. "You're that eager to leave?"

"Your pack needs help," I said simply. "And I need a change."

He studied me, his gaze heavy and searching, like he was trying to read the story written in my bones. Finally, he nodded. "Let's go."

I went back to my room, slung the duffel over my shoulder and descended the stairs one last time. Shane was waiting at the bottom, his face looked confused and something else that might have been regret if I cared enough to look closer. He reached out, his hand closing around my wrist, his grip firm but not painful.

"Where are you going?" he growled, his voice a low growl.

I jerked my wrist free, my eyes cold as I met his gaze. "My life is not your concern."

He blinked, genuinely baffled. "Are you upset about the pendant? Leah, I—"

I scoffed, the sound harsh and humorless. "All I wanted was an honest relationship," I said, my voice steady despite the ache in my chest. "I didn't ask for anything but something real."

"I'm sorry about the pendant—" Shane started, but the words died as Mary burst into the room.

She was a whirlwind of tears and drama, her face crumpled and red, her voice pitched high and trembling. She threw herself into Shane's arms, wailing loud enough to wake the dead.

"Anton hates me!" she sobbed, clutching at Shane's shirt like it was the only thing keeping her upright. "He doesn't love me! I'm worthless to him because I'm not Leah!"

I sighed, the sound heavy with exhaustion. Shane had already forgotten I existed, his arms wrapped around Mary, his voice soft and soothing as he murmured comfort into her hair. It was almost poetic, in a twisted sort of way. I'd spent months fighting for his attention, and all it took was Mary's tears to erase me completely.

Anton emerged from his study, his face a storm of fury. He looked at Mary, then at Shane, then at me. His expression softened when our eyes met.

I crossed to him and pulled him into a tight hug. "I love you," I said softly, my voice thick with emotion. "I'll contact you when I can."

He held me close, his hands gripping my shoulders like he was afraid to let go. "Be safe," he whispered. "Come back to me."

"I will."

I pulled away before I could change my mind, before the weight of leaving could crush me. I walked to the door, stepping over the threshold into the cool morning air. Darien stood by a black SUV, his posture relaxed but his eyes sharp, watchful. He didn't say anything as I approached, just opened the back hatch so I could throw my duffel inside.

I climbed into the passenger seat, buckling in as Darien slid behind the wheel. The engine roared to life, and we pulled away from the house, gravel crunching beneath the tires. I didn't look back. I didn't let myself.

The sun climbed higher in the sky, painting the world in shades of gold and amber. For the first time in longer than I could remember, I felt like I could breathe. We drove in silence, the miles stretching out before us like a promise. Behind me, my old life faded into memory. Ahead, something new waited. Life was uncertain.

But it was mine.

And for now, that was enough.