Chapter 5 – The Weight of Truth
Damon stormed into his mansion, his jaw tight. The heavy door slammed behind him, the sound echoing through the marble hallway like a dull thud. His boots hit the floor hard, each step heavier than the last. He needed to escape—to his office, where he could bury himself in work and forget Aria's sharp words, her rejection, the chaos she'd brought into his life. But when he pushed open the office door, he stopped cold.
Vera sat in his chair, legs crossed, arms draped casually over the armrests. Her sharp eyes locked on him, like she'd been waiting all day. A smug smile played on her lips.
Damon shut the door slowly, his movements controlled. "Why are you here, Vera?" His voice was low, edged with barely held anger.
She tilted her head, her smile teasing. "Is it a crime to miss you?"
He glared, not hiding his irritation. "You knew I was bringing my mate. What do you really want?"
Vera stood, her heels clicking loudly as she walked around the desk toward him. Her movements were slow, deliberate, like a cat circling prey. "Did you think she'd let you mark her?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. "You're the Lycan Alpha—everyone knows how ruthless you are. But since that girl showed up, you're acting weak. I can't even feel power from her."
Damon moved fast. His hand shot out, closing around her neck—not hard enough to hurt, but firm enough to make her pause. He pulled her closer, his eyes cold as ice. "You're just a bitter shadow who can't handle the truth," he said, his voice sharp with venom. "You'll never be loved. Accept it."
Vera didn't flinch. Her smile widened, mocking him. "Fine," she said, stepping back and smoothing her dress. "I'll leave. But I'll be watching. Let's see how long your little dream lasts."
She sauntered out, hips swaying like she still owned the place. The door clicked shut behind her. Damon sank into the chair, his hands gripping his scalp as he leaned over the desk. His chest tightened. Was it Vera's smugness that burned him? Or the small, nagging voice in his head that wondered if she was right?
Meanwhile, at the academy, Aria stood in the dance hall, her feet rooted to the polished floor. Her body wouldn't move. Pain shot through her side, sharp and sudden. Her legs gave out, and she collapsed, hitting the ground hard.
Gasps rippled through the room.
"Again?" someone whispered.
"Maybe she's cursed."
"She's bad luck."
"She shouldn't be here."
Her teammates stared, their eyes cold. No one stepped forward. No one offered a hand. Their whispers cut into her like blades, sharp and relentless.
Aria pressed her palms to the floor, trying to push herself up. Pain pulsed in her side, making her wince. She could feel their gazes, heavy and judging. The whispers grew louder, no longer hushed. Her face burned with shame, but she refused to cry—not here, not in front of them.
She forced herself to stand, brushing off her clothes with shaky hands. Her throat felt tight, but her pride kept her moving. She walked out of the hall, fast but careful, hiding her limp. Outside, she didn't stop until she reached the rest area by the beach. Gray clouds hung low, and the chilly breeze from the water stung her chest. She sat on a stone bench, alone.
"What am I doing here?" she muttered, gripping her knees tight.
Vera's words echoed in her mind, carved deep: *Are you even ready for what comes next?* Maybe she wasn't. She didn't understand what being a mate meant. Damon barely looked at her like she mattered, and everyone else treated her like she was nothing.
"Hey."
Aria looked up. A girl stood in front of her, pink hair cut sharp in a bob, black eyeliner thick and bold. Her school uniform was unbuttoned at the top, and a toothpick dangled between her lips.
The girl smirked. "Rough day?"
Aria sat up straighter. "What do you want?"
"Just checking in." The girl's smirk grew. "You're famous now. The mystery mate of the ruthless Alpha? Didn't expect it to be someone like you."
Aria stayed silent, staring at her hands. She hoped ignoring the girl would make her leave. She wasn't in the mood for a fight.
"Cara," the girl said, crouching slightly. "That's my name. In case you're wondering who's calling you out."
Aria didn't respond.
Cara leaned closer, her voice sharp. "It's funny. A girl with no wolf, no strength, no nothing—acting like you belong with him. You're a joke."
Aria's jaw tightened. "I didn't ask for this."
"But you're acting like you deserve it," Cara snapped, rolling her eyes. "Pouting out here won't change how people see you. You're pathetic."
"I don't even know you," Aria said, her voice rising.
Cara laughed, cold and cutting. "You don't have to. Your existence is embarrassing enough. I don't know what Alpha Damon sees in you. Must be some kind of punishment."
"Why do you care?" Aria stood, fists clenched. "Why is this your problem?"
Cara shrugged, her eyes glinting. "Because it's wrong when weak girls like you get what stronger ones worked for. You as his mate? That's an insult."
Aria stepped back, her chest tight. "You don't know me."
"I know enough," Cara said, tilting her head. "No wolf. No trust. Even your teammates don't want you. Face it—you don't belong. Maybe you should just disappear."
Aria's throat closed up. Something inside her cracked.
She turned and walked away, not caring about the damp air or the drizzle starting again. By the time she passed the school gates, the rain fell harder, soaking her clothes. Her shoes squished with water, but it didn't matter. The pain in her side, the whispers, Cara's words—they hurt worse.
The voices echoed louder than the rain: *You don't belong. You're not enough. Disappear.*
Aria kept walking, the road ahead blurry through the downpour. The sky cried harder than she could. She didn't want to be strong anymore. She just wanted it all to stop.
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