Chapter 17

Arielle

The moment the front door slammed behind Clare, I broke.

Whatever strength I had been holding onto disappeared.

I sank onto the bed and covered my face with my hands as sob after sob tore from my chest.

Joss stood in the doorway.

He looked like he wanted to come to me.

But for once, he didn’t.

Maybe he knew there was nothing he could say.

There was no reassurance that could undo what had happened.

No promise that could make Clare disappear.

No words that could convince me that my life hadn’t changed.

I cried until my head throbbed.

Eventually, Joss came closer and sat beside me.

He didn’t try to explain.

He simply wrapped his arms around me.

And I let him.

I was too exhausted to fight anymore.

At some point, I must have fallen asleep against him.

When I woke, sunlight streamed through the curtains.

For a few seconds, I didn’t remember where I was.

Then everything came rushing back.

Clare.

The party.

The second mate.

Her demand to live here.

I sat up slowly.

Joss was gone.

I stared at the empty space beside me.

Then I remembered something.

This wasn’t our bedroom.

I was in the guest room.

The room that had been meant for visitors.

The room that had never mattered before last night.

Now it felt like a warning.

I climbed out of bed and headed downstairs.

I needed coffee.

I needed something normal.

Something that made sense.

But the moment I entered the kitchen, I stopped.

Clare was standing at the stove.

My stomach dropped.

She turned around.

For a moment, neither of us spoke.

Then she smiled.

Not a friendly smile.

A small, knowing one.

“Good morning, Arielle.”

I stared at her.

“What are you doing here?”

“Making breakfast.”

“This is my kitchen.”

She tilted her head.

“I know.”

The calmness in her voice made my skin prickle.

“You need to leave.”

Clare turned back toward the stove.

“I don’t think that’s going to happen.”

I stared at her.

“What?”

She placed food onto a plate.

“I spoke to Joss last night.”

My heart sank.

“What did he say?”

She smiled again.

“You’ll find out soon enough.”

I stepped farther into the kitchen.

“Clare, this is my home.”

“Our mate’s home,” she corrected.

The words hit me like a slap.

“You aren’t moving in here.”

She looked at me.

“I wouldn’t be so sure.”

My chest tightened.

“You can’t just decide that.”

“No.”

Her expression hardened.

“Joss will decide.”

I shook my head.

“He won’t.”

Clare’s eyes narrowed.

“You still don’t understand.”

“Understand what?”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

She stepped closer.

“You can cry. You can hide in the guest room. You can refuse to speak to me. You can pretend that if you wait long enough, everything will go back to the way it was.”

She paused.

“But it won’t.”

My eyes filled with tears.

Clare’s voice softened.

“I am his mate too.”

I swallowed.

“You knew he loved me.”

“Yes.”

“And you still came here.”

“I didn’t choose the bond.”

“Neither did I.”

Her expression flickered.

For a second, I thought I saw pain.

Then it disappeared.

“No,” she said quietly. “But I’m not going to spend my life apologising for it.”

Footsteps sounded in the hallway.

Joss.

Clare looked toward the doorway.

Something changed in her face.

The confidence disappeared.

Her shoulders dropped.

Her eyes filled with tears.

I knew immediately what she was doing.

“Joss?”

He walked into the kitchen.

His eyes went straight to Clare.

Then to me.

“What are you doing here?”

Clare looked down.

“I wanted to make breakfast.”

Joss frowned.

“Clare, we talked about this.”

“I know.”

A tear slipped down her cheek.

“I just thought…”

She stopped.

Joss sighed.

“Thought what?”

She wiped her cheek.

“That maybe you meant what you said last night.”

“I do.”

“Then I don’t understand.”

Her voice trembled.

“You told me I’m your mate.”

“I said I wouldn’t mistreat you.”

“But you don’t want me here.”

Joss looked uncomfortable.

“That’s not what I said.”

Clare’s eyes filled again.

“It feels like it.”

I watched silently.

I knew what she was doing.

She was making him feel guilty.

And it was working.

“I didn’t ask for this,” she whispered. “I didn’t ask to be the second mate. I didn’t ask to fall in love with someone who already had a life.”

Joss’s expression softened.

Clare looked at him through her tears.

“I came here because you’re my mate.”

She took a shaky breath.

“And now I’m being treated like I’m some unwanted stranger.”

“Clare…”

“I don’t have anywhere else.”

I almost laughed.

She did.

She had somewhere else.

She simply didn’t want to be there.

But Joss didn’t know that.

Or perhaps he didn’t want to know.

He ran a hand through his hair.

“You have a home with Golden Fern.”

“I don’t want to live there.”

“Clare.”

“I want to be near my mate.”

Her voice cracked.

“Is that really so terrible?”

Joss looked toward me.

I could see the question in his eyes.

What do I do?

But I didn’t answer.

Because I already knew what was coming.

Clare stepped closer to him.

“I don’t want to take Arielle’s place.”

Her gaze briefly met mine.

“I just want somewhere I belong.”

Joss closed his eyes.

“You’re making this very difficult.”

“I’m not trying to.”

Another tear rolled down her cheek.

“I just don’t want to be alone.”

Silence.

Then Joss exhaled.

“You can stay.”

My heart stopped.

Clare’s face changed instantly.

Relief.

She threw her arms around him.

“Thank you.”

Joss stiffened for a moment before awkwardly returning the embrace.

I stared at them.

Something inside me went cold.

He had chosen.

Maybe not her over me.

Maybe not consciously.

But he had chosen to let her into our home.

Our life.

Our sanctuary.

The place that had always belonged to the two of us.

I turned away.

Neither of them noticed.

Or maybe they did.

I didn’t care.

I walked upstairs.

My hands shook as I entered our bedroom.

I looked around.

Our photographs were everywhere.

Pictures from our first year together.

Our first pack celebration.

Our first holiday.

The night Joss surprised me with a candlelit dinner.

Four years of memories.

Four years of us.

I opened the wardrobe.

Then I began pulling out my clothes.

One piece at a time.

I packed my belongings into bags.

Joss appeared in the doorway.

“Arielle?”

I didn’t look at him.

“What are you doing?”

“Moving.”

His face fell.

“Moving where?”

I picked up another dress.

“The guest room.”

“You don’t have to do this.”

I finally looked at him.

“You just invited your second mate to live in our house.”

“I didn’t want to hurt her.”

“And you didn’t think about hurting me?”

His mouth opened.

Nothing came out.

I nodded slowly.

“That’s what I thought.”

“Arielle, I was trying to do the right thing.”

“For who?”

He flinched.

I returned to packing.

He stepped into the room.

“You know I love you.”

I stopped.

Those words used to make me feel safe.

Now they only made my chest ache.

“I know.”

“Then don’t do this.”

I shook my head.

“I need somewhere that feels like mine.”

“This is your home.”

I looked toward the doorway.

“Not anymore.”

He followed me as I carried my bags down the hallway.

I entered the guest room.

The same room where I had cried myself to sleep only hours earlier.

I placed my belongings inside.

Joss stood in the doorway watching me.

His face was devastated.

Mine probably was too.

But I couldn’t keep pretending everything was okay.

I put the last bag beside the wardrobe.

Then I turned toward him.

“I love you, Joss.”

His eyes filled with emotion.

“But I can’t share our bedroom with her.”

He swallowed.

“I understand.”

“No, you don’t.”

I looked at him sadly.

“Because you haven’t lost anything yet.”

His brow furrowed.

“But I have.”

I shook my head.

“You still have your home. Your pack. Your Luna. Your first mate. And now your second mate gets to live under the same roof.”

I stepped farther into the guest room.

“But I lost something this morning.”

“What?”

I looked at him.

“The feeling that this was just ours.”

His face crumpled.

I closed the door.

Not completely.

Just enough to create a space between us.

For the first time in four years, I chose to sleep behind a different door from my mate.