Chapter 4
Over the next two weeks, I settled into Thornridge like a ghost learning to become solid again.
Caspian assigned me a small cabin near the healer's hall — warm, private, with a garden out back where I could grow herbs. The pack members were cautious around me at first, but not cruel. Curious. Some even brought me gifts — fresh bread, warm blankets, a hand-carved mug.
Nobody asked about my missing mate mark. Nobody whispered about the rejected wolf.
Caspian checked on me every morning. He never pushed, never pried. He'd just bring whatever I needed — firewood, medicine, sometimes just his quiet company — and then leave when I needed space.
It was so different from Dorian that it felt like living on a different planet.
One evening, I was organizing herbs in the healer's hall when Kira's call came.
"You need to hear this," she said without greeting. "Dorian's looking for you."
My hands stilled. "What?"
"He sent out trackers three days ago. He told the pack you 'ran away during an emotional episode' and that he's 'concerned for your safety.'" Kira's voice dripped with disgust. "Concerned. He didn't even notice you were gone for four days, Elara. FOUR DAYS. Vivienne finally mentioned it at dinner, probably gloating, and that's when he—"
"It doesn't matter," I said.
"It DOES matter because his trackers are heading north. If they reach Thornridge—"
"They won't find me. I'm registered under Helga's ward as a displaced wolf. My records are sealed."
Kira exhaled. "Okay. Good. But Elara... there's something else."
I waited.
"Vivienne announced at last night's pack dinner that she's pregnant. Eight weeks."
The words hit me like a physical blow. Not because I was jealous — that ship had sailed and sunk — but because of what it meant.
If Vivienne was eight weeks pregnant, that meant she and Dorian had been together for at least two months BEFORE he rejected me. While I was still his mate. While I was still healing his wounds and sleeping under his roof and foolishly believing we had a future.
"Elara? Are you still there?"
"I'm here." My voice sounded distant, even to myself.
"I'm sorry. I thought you should know."
"Thank you, Kira."
I hung up and sat in the dark for a very long time.
Then I placed both hands on my stomach, straightened my spine, and made myself a promise.
My pup would never know what it felt like to be unwanted.
...
Meanwhile, back in Shadowfang Pack, Dorian paced his office like a caged animal.
It had been two weeks. Two weeks since the ceremony, and his trackers had returned empty-handed.
"What do you mean you can't find her?" he snarled at the warrior kneeling before him. "She's one small she-wolf with no combat training! She couldn't have gotten far!"
"Alpha, we followed her scent to the eastern border, and then it disappeared. The snowstorm erased everything beyond—"
"Then search BEYOND! Check every pack within a hundred miles!"
The warrior flinched. "Alpha, with respect... you rejected her publicly. She's within her rights to—"
"I know what I did!" Dorian slammed his fist onto the desk, cracking the wood. "I'm not trying to bring her back as my mate, you idiot. She's a skilled healer, and the pack needs her skills. That's all."
That's what he told himself, anyway.
But at night, when Vivienne slept beside him and the silence pressed in, he couldn't explain the hollow ache that had settled in his chest since the ceremony. Couldn't explain why he kept reaching for a presence that was no longer there.
Couldn't explain why his wolf hadn't stopped howling since she left.
"She'll surface eventually," he muttered to himself. "She has to."
Caspian assigned me a small cabin near the healer's hall — warm, private, with a garden out back where I could grow herbs. The pack members were cautious around me at first, but not cruel. Curious. Some even brought me gifts — fresh bread, warm blankets, a hand-carved mug.
Nobody asked about my missing mate mark. Nobody whispered about the rejected wolf.
Caspian checked on me every morning. He never pushed, never pried. He'd just bring whatever I needed — firewood, medicine, sometimes just his quiet company — and then leave when I needed space.
It was so different from Dorian that it felt like living on a different planet.
One evening, I was organizing herbs in the healer's hall when Kira's call came.
"You need to hear this," she said without greeting. "Dorian's looking for you."
My hands stilled. "What?"
"He sent out trackers three days ago. He told the pack you 'ran away during an emotional episode' and that he's 'concerned for your safety.'" Kira's voice dripped with disgust. "Concerned. He didn't even notice you were gone for four days, Elara. FOUR DAYS. Vivienne finally mentioned it at dinner, probably gloating, and that's when he—"
"It doesn't matter," I said.
"It DOES matter because his trackers are heading north. If they reach Thornridge—"
"They won't find me. I'm registered under Helga's ward as a displaced wolf. My records are sealed."
Kira exhaled. "Okay. Good. But Elara... there's something else."
I waited.
"Vivienne announced at last night's pack dinner that she's pregnant. Eight weeks."
The words hit me like a physical blow. Not because I was jealous — that ship had sailed and sunk — but because of what it meant.
If Vivienne was eight weeks pregnant, that meant she and Dorian had been together for at least two months BEFORE he rejected me. While I was still his mate. While I was still healing his wounds and sleeping under his roof and foolishly believing we had a future.
"Elara? Are you still there?"
"I'm here." My voice sounded distant, even to myself.
"I'm sorry. I thought you should know."
"Thank you, Kira."
I hung up and sat in the dark for a very long time.
Then I placed both hands on my stomach, straightened my spine, and made myself a promise.
My pup would never know what it felt like to be unwanted.
...
Meanwhile, back in Shadowfang Pack, Dorian paced his office like a caged animal.
It had been two weeks. Two weeks since the ceremony, and his trackers had returned empty-handed.
"What do you mean you can't find her?" he snarled at the warrior kneeling before him. "She's one small she-wolf with no combat training! She couldn't have gotten far!"
"Alpha, we followed her scent to the eastern border, and then it disappeared. The snowstorm erased everything beyond—"
"Then search BEYOND! Check every pack within a hundred miles!"
The warrior flinched. "Alpha, with respect... you rejected her publicly. She's within her rights to—"
"I know what I did!" Dorian slammed his fist onto the desk, cracking the wood. "I'm not trying to bring her back as my mate, you idiot. She's a skilled healer, and the pack needs her skills. That's all."
That's what he told himself, anyway.
But at night, when Vivienne slept beside him and the silence pressed in, he couldn't explain the hollow ache that had settled in his chest since the ceremony. Couldn't explain why he kept reaching for a presence that was no longer there.
Couldn't explain why his wolf hadn't stopped howling since she left.
"She'll surface eventually," he muttered to himself. "She has to."