The Unforgiving Moon

28.

Two days had passed, and no one had seen any whiff of Aven. Though Mallee had been forced to retreat to her old chambers on the second floor when all her belongings had been found at the bottom of the stairs. She'd gathered them with her head down low—or that was at least what Lotta had told me about it. If Mallee was near, I tried not to be.

Currently, the fact that she hadn't returned to the third floor, was the only thing confirming to me Aven was still alive.

Well, that and the fact that she hadn't killed me or locked me up, either.

After Lotta and I had fixed up my room again, I'd slept back in my own bed, though it hadn't been comforting. The lingering scent of the wolves who'd rummaged through my stuff remained, however faint it was.

Lotta could barely smell it, but for me, it was all I could reek. My blankets had been touched by others, my books had been destroyed, nothing was mine anymore.

I only stayed there if I really had to—which meant I only looked for my bed when my body was drained, when I needed sleep more than it needed me. Even then, sleep wasn't comforting, and I often woke up in a sweat, dreaming of the old and new horrors of my life.

During the day, I'd often look for Lotta—who'd disappear more often than not to Moons know where—or wandered about the Manor, looking for any futile distractions while the pack still did their best to ignore my very existence. The mere fact I had returned here with Aven hadn't been enough to change the tides when it came to me—I was still the outsider, and I never belonged here according to a loud majority.

Every waking moment, I was alert. I was prepared for everything to go wrong, for Mallee to resume her position of power and finally put an end to me. For this pack to turn itself against me once again, to brutalize me beyond repair.

But other than dirty looks and scurried words, the pack went on without me. When I walked into a room, the seats next to mine quickly cleared, but none said anything bad to me.

Saying it about me, hurt just as much. I longed to belong somewhere, and I broke a little bit more every time I remembered I had nowhere.

The pack I was born into, didn't want me. And the pack I chose, didn't choose me back. Even my mate had turned his back on me, in the most torturous way possible.

I was surrounded by people, but I was entirely alone.

That thought was fortified as I walked into the downstairs dining room, and was forced to sit alone once again when I couldn't spot Lotta's freshly cut pixie cut in the masses.

It was a low way to start a day—eating breakfast surrounded by hateful glares and empty chairs.

The only little bit of light I saw in this, was Mallee's defeated look every time I walked past the front table. The Alpha's chair remained steadily empty, and a few seats down; there she was. Reduced to her former position in this pack—whatever that may have been.

She heard my heart speed up every time I saw her, and it made her turn her head towards me every time I walked into this room. The only solace I found in this hateful game between us, was that we were both playing it out of seats we didn't want to sit in.

The chair on the side of Aven's chair remained filled. After all this time, I still expected to find a comforting pair of green eyes sitting in that chair, and I wondered if I would ever stop doing that. If I would ever stop expecting him to show up everywhere, to be everywhere around me. I hoped I would.

The lady in Jerr's chair was the same one who'd acted as Mallee's Beta. I hadn't remembered her name—I hadn't cared about it, and by now it seemed too late to ask.