Chapter 5: Tamsin's POV

I try to keep my hands steady as I fold the white linens and carry them outside to dry. The breeze is soft, the sun warm against my skin, but none of it touches the cold buried inside me.

Every step feels like I’m walking through fog, like my soul has been fractured and no one sees it.

No one wants to see it.

“Hey, can you not let that corner drag on the ground?” Elara snaps, her voice sharper than usual.

I blink and glance down. The edge of the sheet is just brushing the grass. I lift it quickly and secure it on the line.

“Sorry,” I mumble.

She doesn’t respond. She walks away without looking back, joining two other girls near the baskets. They’re laughing about something—something I’m not a part of. Not anymore.

We used to do everything together. Chores. Late night giggles. Whispered dreams about what our future mates would be like. Now she barely speaks to me unless she has to.

I walk over to her, pretending like nothing’s changed, hoping she’ll meet me halfway.

“Elara,” I say gently, trying to spark up a conversation.

She turns slowly, lips tight. “We should focus on finishing this before midday,” she says. Her tone is calm but distant, final.

I nod and step back, swallowing the lump rising in my throat.

"You lost her," Kira whispers, "just like him."

It's funny how quickly friendships can disintegrate into thin air. On what grounds did I have to lose my childhood bestfriend for?

We grew up in the pack quarters for orphans and we've been practically sisters since we've known eachother.

Why then would she treat me like a stranger she didn't want to work with all of a sudden? I mean, she knows it's definitely not my fault that I got rejected.

If anything, she should be here! By my side! She should be with me. She should help me heal.

Isn't that what bestfriends do? Isn't it?

"Why? Why me?" I whisper back to my wolf, but she doesn’t respond.

She’s quiet lately. Mourning. I feel her pain as much as my own, and it makes everything heavier.

I focus on the linens, hanging each piece with trembling fingers. Behind me, I hear the whispers starting.

“Did you see her last night?”

“Yeah. She looked like a ghost. Honestly, I don’t know what she was thinking.”

“Imagine believing the Alpha would choose her over Zara because of what? Fate? Delusional.”

I keep my head down. I know they’re talking about me. They want me to hear. That’s the worst part—it's like they want me to suffer for something that wasn't even my fault to begin with.

I just turned eighteen for Christ sake! I wasn't the one that rejected him, he was the one that rejected me.

Why?! Why!?

Because I'm apparently, I'm not Luna material. Spoiler alert, I've been omega all my life. How can an omega from birth suddenly be Luna material?

Define Luna material!

“She’s not even that pretty.” Another girl says and I hear Elara's faint chuckle.

“She’s… sweet, I guess," she says, "but the Alpha needs power. Not some soft-hearted little Omega.”

Their laughter rings in my ears like nails on glass.

"What did I do wrong, Kira?" I sigh internally.

"Ignore them," she says weakly. "We have to get through this."

I grip the basket and walk away before the tears spill. I won’t give them that satisfaction. I can’t.

The inside of the pack house is quieter, but the silence feels oppressive. I make my way toward the kitchens, needing the warmth of the ovens, the comfort of routine.

But fate isn’t done with me yet, because just as I round the corner, I find Zara.

She’s standing near the hallway arch, radiant as always. Her long, dark curls are pinned in perfect waves, her silk blouse clinging to her curves in all the right places.

Her presence alone demands attention—and she knows it.

This time last week, I would most probably be fan-girling over her. But this isn't this time last week. This is the woman my mate rejected me for, and even though I don't want to hate her, there's the underlying feeling of jealousy that almost translates to hate.

Kira's emotions that I try hard to supress.

Her eyes land on me instantly.

“Oh,” she says softly. “Tamsin.”

I drop my gaze, but I can still feel her watching me, amused, curious… maybe even a little triumphant.

“I was hoping I’d run into you,” she says, stepping closer. “I wanted to say… I’m sorry.”

I look up, stunned. “What?”

She tilts her head. “I know it must be hard. Being rejected like that. Especially after the excitement of not having to wait so long to find your mate.”

Every word is smooth, carefully measured. But I see it in her eyes—the glint of satisfaction.

Her soft voice is fake. I can feel it. That alone takes out the soothing effect she must have been going for.

“I didn’t come here to talk about that,” I say quietly.

She sighs and folds her arms, voice dripping with faux sympathy. “Still, I just wanted you to know… I never asked for this. I didn’t want to come between you and the Alpha.”

“You didn’t,” I say, forcing myself to meet her gaze. “He made his choice.”

“Yes,” she agrees, stepping even closer. “He did. He chose me.”

The words stab deeper than they should. My heart throbs like it’s being squeezed.

“I've known him for three years and loved him for more than that,” she continues. “We’ve built a life together. Plans. A future. When the mate bond didn’t come, we accepted it. We were happy.”

I don’t answer. I don’t trust myself to.

“But then you came of age,” she says, her voice lowering, soft like a lullaby with thorns. “And suddenly everything we had was… fragile.”

I inhale shakily. “He rejected me already. So why are you here, telling me all this?”

Her lips curl ever so slightly. “Because I want you to understand. Alphas… they don’t have to follow fate. They can choose their destiny. Nox chose me. And he’ll keep choosing me. You never stood a chance.”

The breath leaves my lungs like a punch to the gut.

“He told me himself,” she adds coldly. “Fate may tie wolves together, but love… love is stronger. And he loves me.”

Kira whimpers.

I clench my fists, digging my nails into my palms. I want to scream, to fight, to cry. But instead, I lift my chin.

“I hope he makes the right choice,” I say, my voice trembling but steady enough.

She raises a brow, her expression unreadable. “He already did.”