Stella’s gaze lingered on Alpha Raven, his imposing figure silhouetted against the dim light of the room. A knot of apprehension tightened in her stomach. She waited, her breath catching in her throat, for the words that would shape her future.
Theo leaned closer, his whisper barely audible above the hushed tension. “Hey! Are you okay?” His concern was a balm to her frayed nerves.
Stella offered him a weak smile, the tremor in her voice betraying her inner turmoil. “Yeah, I am fine!” The words felt hollow, even to her own ears.
Theo’s hand gently rested on her lap, a silent reassurance. His touch, warm and comforting, eased the icy grip of fear that held her captive. “That’s good to know!” he murmured, his gaze shifting to Alpha Raven, his expression mirroring Stella’s apprehension.
Alpha Raven rose from his chair, his movements deliberate, each step carrying the weight of authority. He addressed Elder Remus directly, his voice resonating with a controlled power. “I already talked about this with Elder Remus!” A subtle shift in his posture, a barely perceptible softening of his features, accompanied his next words, directed at Stella. “And he agreed with me!”
A chill ran down Stella’s spine. She knew, with a certainty that transcended reason, that this was a turning point, a moment that would irrevocably alter the course of her life.
Brandon broke the suffocating silence. “Dad!” The sharp edge of his voice cut through the tension.
Alpha Raven’s gaze snapped to his son, his expression hardening. “What, Brandon?” His voice was sharp, laced with impatience.
Brandon’s defiance was evident in his posture, his shoulders squared, his jaw tight. “I thought we already talked about this?” he challenged, his voice low but firm.
Alpha Raven’s response was curt, devoid of warmth. “Your opinion will not affect our decision.”
Brandon shook his head, a mixture of disbelief and anger etched on his face. He glanced at Stella, his eyes filled with profound sympathy. He saw her helplessness, her inability to control her own destiny, and a pang of guilt pierced his anger.
Tyros, sensing his friend’s distress, leaned in, his voice a hushed reprimand. “Stop complaining!”
Brandon merely nodded, his gaze drifting to his brother, who observed him with a mixture of concern and understanding.
Theo’s smirk was a subtle jab at Brandon, a silent acknowledgment of the impending upheaval. “Continue what you are saying, Dad!” he urged, his tone laced with a hint of malicious amusement.
Alpha Raven cleared his throat, the sound echoing the gravity of his announcement. He nodded, his gaze sweeping over the assembled family members, each face a canvas reflecting a different shade of anticipation or dread. “I was saying that Elder Remus and I decided to plan a wedding for Theo and Stella,” he stated, his voice firm, leaving no room for dissent.
Stella, her face a mask of composure, betrayed no outward emotion. Her gaze remained fixed on her father, her silence a testament to the powerlessness she felt.
Alpha Raven’s question hung in the suffocating silence that followed. “Are you fine with that, Stella?” His voice was softer now, but the underlying authority remained unshaken. The subtle shift in his tone did nothing to alleviate the pressure.
Stella met his gaze, her eyes betraying a flicker of defiance before she succumbed to the inevitable. “I don’t have any choice, Alpha Raven!” she replied, her smile a brittle, strained expression that failed to mask the turmoil within.
Brandon couldn’t bear to watch. He looked away, his shoulders slumping, the weight of his helplessness pressing down on him. A choked whisper escaped his lips. “Come on!”
Tyros, sensing his friend’s despair, reached out a hand, his touch a silent offering of comfort. He saw the devastation etched on Brandon’s face, the silent scream trapped within. “Should we go outside?” he offered softly, his voice barely a breath.
Brandon shook his head, his gaze fixed on the floor. The turmoil within him was a tempest of conflicting emotions. He turned to Tyros, his voice barely a murmur. “I shouldn’t feel this way, right?”
The question was less a request for confirmation and more a desperate plea for solace.
Tyros’s response was gentle, a soothing balm to his friend’s troubled spirit. “Don’t think about it for now,” he whispered, his hand remaining on Brandon’s arm, a silent promise of support.
Alpha Raven, oblivious to the silent drama unfolding beside him, turned his attention back to Stella, his voice resuming its authoritative tone. “We are going to plan a date for your wedding, Stella! When do you want to hold your wedding?”
Elder Remus, ever the pragmatist, interjected, his voice carrying the weight of tradition. “We should hold it when the full moon comes.” His gaze rested on Stella, a mixture of paternal concern and unwavering conviction in his eyes. “Are you fine with that?” he added, his voice a subtle blend of inquiry and expectation, his gaze unwavering as he waited for his daughter’s response, a response that would seal her fate.
Stella’s words, though seemingly compliant, carried a subtle undercurrent of defiance. “It is up to you! I will do whatever you want,” she said, her tone flat, devoid of genuine enthusiasm.
The forced acquiescence was enough to quell any further discussion of wedding plans from Elder Remus. He shifted his focus, his gaze settling on Alpha Raven. “Can I talk with my daughter privately, Alpha Raven?” he requested, his voice carrying a hint of weariness.
Alpha Raven, sensing the underlying tension, readily agreed. “Of course, you need that!”
Elder Remus, his expression unreadable, gestured for Stella to follow him.
Stella rose, her movements stiff, and trailed behind her father as they exited the mansion, the heavy oak doors closing behind them with a resounding thud that seemed to echo the unspoken conflict brewing between them.
They paused in the meticulously manicured garden, the scent of roses and night-blooming jasmine doing little to soothe the simmering tension.
Elder Remus turned to Stella, his voice sharp, cutting through the tranquility of the garden. “What are you doing, huh?” he demanded, his tone leaving no room for misinterpretation.
Stella maintained her composure, her response carefully measured. “What are you talking about, Dad? I am just doing what you want,” she replied, her voice even, her eyes betraying none of the turmoil that raged within.
Elder Remus saw through her facade. “Oh, really? But I can feel your sarcasm there!” he countered, his voice laced with a mixture of disappointment and exasperation.
Stella took a deep breath, the controlled inhalation a testament to her efforts to maintain her composure. The carefully constructed dam of her composure finally began to crumble. “I am used to it, Dad! I don’t have my own life, all I do is follow whatever you want,” she confessed, her voice rising slightly, the frustration that had been simmering beneath the surface finally boiling over.
Elder Remus’s next question was laced with a hint of desperation. “I thought you liked Theo?”
Stella’s response was a mixture of honesty and resignation. “Yeah, I like him, but I am not ready!”
Elder Remus shook his head, his disbelief palpable. “When are you going to be ready, huh? You need to tie the knot with him as soon as possible,” he insisted, his voice tinged with urgency.
Stella remained silent, her silence a powerful statement in itself. Finally, she offered a curt response, her voice devoid of emotion. “Okay, do what you want.” She turned and began to walk away, her steps firm, her back ramrod straight.
Elder Remus’s voice boomed across the garden, his authority momentarily shattered by his daughter’s defiance. “STELLA! WHERE ARE YOU GOING? I’M STILL TALKING TO YOU!” His words were lost in the night air as Stella continued to walk away, leaving her father alone in the garden.
Stella reached the wrought-iron gates of the mansion, their imposing presence a stark contrast to the turmoil within her. She addressed the security guards stationed there, her voice barely a whisper, yet carrying the weight of her unspoken plea for escape. “Open the gate, please.”
The guards, accustomed to her family’s authority, responded swiftly, the gates groaning open as if reluctant to release her.
“Thank you!” she murmured, her gratitude a mere formality, her heart heavy with a burden far greater than mere politeness.
Once outside the confines of the mansion, she paused, her eyes scanning the surroundings. Finding herself alone, hidden from prying eyes, she allowed herself a moment of release.
With a deep breath, she embraced the transformation, her body shifting, her bones lengthening and reforming, her human form melting away to reveal the powerful, primal grace of her wolf form.
She plunged into the dense woods, her powerful legs carrying her through the undergrowth, the wind whipping through her fur as she ran, a desperate attempt to outrun the weight of her emotions.
Finally, exhaustion claimed her, her body slowing, her breath coming in ragged gasps. She collapsed, her wolf form shifting back to human, the transformation a painful reminder of her vulnerability.
She sat on the damp earth, the cold seeping into her bones, mirroring the chill that had settled deep within her heart. Tears streamed down her face, hot and uncontrollable.
“Damn it!” she cursed, the raw emotion escaping her lips in a desperate cry of anguish. She looked up at the sky, a vast expanse of indifferent stars, her voice a broken whisper. “Why did you leave me like this, Mom? I hate you!”
She wiped her tears, her movements clumsy and uncontrolled, her grief a tangible presence. Then, a sound-the snap of a twig, the rustle of leaves-pierced the silence. She looked around, her senses heightened, but saw nothing.
Just as she was about to dismiss it as her imagination, a voice, sharp and teasing, broke the silence.
“You look ugly whenever you are crying!” Daisha dropped from a low-hanging branch, landing gracefully beside her, a mischievous glint in her eyes.
Stella’s surprise was evident. “How did you find me?” she asked, her voice laced with a mixture of annoyance and relief.
Daisha’s response was delivered with a confident grin. “I used my senses!”
“Go away, Daisha! I don’t need your help!” Stella snapped, her voice strained.
Daisha shook her head, her expression unyielding. “I also said that, but you stayed with me,” she reminded Stella, her tone gentle yet firm.
Stella fell silent, the memory of a past shared hardship flooding back, a bittersweet reminder of their bond.
Daisha, sensing the shift in her sister’s demeanor, posed a question, her voice soft but direct. “Why are you hating our Mom now?”
Stella looked at her sister, her eyes filled with a mixture of anger and sorrow. “She left me with this kind of situation!” she exclaimed, her voice thick with emotion.
Daisha, ever the pragmatist, couldn’t help but let out a small, almost apologetic laugh. “Stella, you have a choice! Fight for it!” she urged, her voice filled with a sisterly concern that bordered on exasperation.
Stella rolled her eyes, the gesture a mixture of frustration and weariness. “As if I can do that, huh!” she retorted, her tone laced with cynicism.
Daisha, undeterred, placed a comforting hand on her sister’s shoulder. “You don’t like him-” She began, attempting to offer a solution, but Stella cut her off, her voice sharp and impatient. “I’m not ready!”
“Yeah, I know, but you can talk about it with him. Persuade him to-” Daisha tried again, offering a suggestion, but once more, Stella interrupted, her voice laced with a hint of desperation.
“Nah! He wants to marry me as soon as possible,” Stella stated, her words carrying the weight of her resignation.
Daisha’s response was a playful, yet insightful observation. “Oh! Fishy!” she exclaimed, nodding her head knowingly.
Intrigued, Stella questioned her sister’s cryptic comment. “Fishy? What do you mean?”
Daisha, however, immediately changed her mind, dismissing her intuition. “Nevermind! I will talk to Dad about it!” she offered, her voice carrying a note of determination.
Stella, however, rejected her sister’s offer, her voice laced with a weary acceptance of her fate. “We already talked about it, and I agreed with him,” she said, her tone devoid of any hope.
Daisha, sensing her sister’s despair, teased her gently. “Then why are you crying like that?”
Stella’s response was a torrent of pent-up frustration and resentment. “Because I don’t have a choice like you! You can love whoever you want!” she accused, her glare intense, her words a raw expression of her bitterness.
Daisha, realizing the depth of her sister’s pain, offered a sincere apology. “I’m sorry,” she murmured, the weight of her words hanging heavy in the air as silence settled between the two sisters. “Are you going back home after this?” she asked, her voice laced with concern.
Stella shook her head, her response firm despite the tremor in her voice. “I will stay at Flora’s place!”
Daisha, sensing her sister’s distress, offered an alternative. “Why don’t you stay with me for a while and rethink your decision?”
The offer, simple yet heartfelt, caused Stella to pause, her gaze meeting her sister’s with a newfound seriousness. “Can I do that?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper.
Daisha’s immediate and enthusiastic response was a balm to Stella’s wounded spirit. “Of course, you are my sister! You can do whatever you want with me.”
The genuine warmth in Daisha’s voice touched Stella deeply, offering a glimmer of hope amidst the darkness. “I will just get some of my things!” Stella announced a newfound resolve strengthening her voice.
The two sisters began walking back towards Stella’s house, their steps synchronized, their shared purpose unspoken yet palpable.
“I will accompany you!” Daisha declared her presence a silent reassurance.
As they approached the house, they found Theo waiting patiently on the porch, his expression a mixture of concern and anticipation. “Can we talk?” he asked Stella the moment he saw her, his voice soft, his eyes pleading.
Stella’s response was carefully measured, her words designed to create distance. “Let’s do that when I go back here!”
The ambiguity of her answer left Theo visibly confused. “Why? Are you leaving?” he pressed, his voice laced with anxiety.
Stella, offering no further explanation, simply turned and entered the house, leaving Theo standing alone on the porch.
Daisha waited outside, remaining silent, yet acutely aware of the conversation unfolding within the house. She could hear Theo’s increasingly desperate pleas, his questions echoing in the quiet evening air.
Suddenly, Brandon appeared, his presence a jarring intrusion on the tense scene. “What are you doing here?” he asked Daisha, his tone a mixture of curiosity and suspicion.
Daisha, her patience wearing thin, retorted, “I should be the one asking you that question, what are you doing here?”
Brandon’s response was immediate and, to Daisha, unsettling. “I want to help her!” he declared, his voice carrying a sincerity that Daisha found difficult to believe.
Her suspicion flared, her eyes narrowing as she questioned him. “Seriously? Do you like her that much?”
Brandon, however, remained silent, his silence a more potent answer than any words could have been.
Inside, Stella was hastily gathering her belongings, filling a bag with essential items.
Theo entered her room, his presence unwelcome yet unavoidable. “Where are you going to stay?” he asked, his voice betraying a hint of desperation.
“Daisha’s place!” Stella replied, her tone curt, her focus solely on finishing her packing.
Theo pressed further, his anxiety palpable. “For how long?”
Stella, her patience exhausted, started walking towards the door, her answer a simple, yet evasive, statement. “I don’t know!”
As they reached the living room, Theo, in a desperate attempt to stall her departure, reached out and gently grasped her arm. “Just tell me if you are not ready, and we can talk about it!” he pleaded, his voice filled with a genuine desire to understand.
Stella, her resolve firm, yet her heart heavy, nodded, then gently removed his hand from her arm. “I will think about it first!” she declared, then opened the front door and stepped out into the night, leaving Theo standing alone in the silence of their home.
Stella emerged from the house and immediately spotted Brandon and Daisha waiting near her car.
Theo, his face etched with suspicion, confronted his brother. “What are you doing here, huh?” he demanded, his tone sharp and accusatory.
Daisha, ever the quick-witted one, intervened, her voice calm yet firm. “Calm down, Theo! He’s with me!” She subtly maneuvered Brandon behind her back, shielding him from Theo’s wrath.
“We will use my car!” Stella announced, her tone brisk and efficient, cutting short any further confrontation. She headed towards her vehicle, her movements purposeful.
Stella started the engine, the familiar hum a welcome distraction from the simmering tension. She opened the passenger-side door.
“Thank you!” Daisha said gratefully as she slid into the seat, while Brandon followed, his presence a silent testament to the complex dynamics at play.
Stella, her gaze fixed on the road ahead, addressed Brandon directly. “Are you coming with us?”
Brandon, however, shook his head, his response a clear indication of his reluctance to fully participate. “Just drop me at the mansion!” he declared, his voice firm yet tinged with a hint of pleading.
Stella’s immediate reaction was a sharp glare, her disapproval evident. “What?” she demanded, her tone sharp and questioning.
Daisha, sensing the escalating tension, intervened again, her voice a soothing counterpoint to Stella’s anger. “He’s with me, Stella!”
Stella rolled her eyes, her exasperation clear, and started driving, the car pulling away from the curb. The journey was far from peaceful.
“Is there any aircon?” Brandon complained, his voice laced with a hint of petulance.
Stella’s response was equally blunt. “Dang! Just open the window!”
But Brandon, stubbornly ignoring her suggestion, remained silent, his refusal a small act of defiance.
Daisha, caught between her sister and Brandon, attempted to mediate. “Stop fighting in front of me!” she pleaded, her voice strained, but Brandon’s teasing continued, his playful jabs further irritating Stella.
Finally, they reached the mansion, the imposing structure looming before them.
Stella pulled up in front of the main gate. “You can go now!” she instructed, her voice devoid of warmth.
But Brandon remained stubbornly seated, his reluctance to leave palpable.
Stella turned to look at him directly, her gaze unwavering.
Brandon, unable to meet her eyes, looked away, his guilt evident.
“Hey! Are you listening to me?” she demanded, her voice sharper now.
Daisha, losing patience, intervened once more, her voice laced with a mixture of exasperation and amusement. “Just drive to the city!” she told her sister, shaking her head in disbelief at the unfolding drama.
Stella’s eyes widened in surprise as Daisha’s unexpected instruction cut through the tension. “Wait, what?” she exclaimed, her voice laced with confusion.
Daisha’s response was curt and decisive. “Just drive!”
Stella, having no other option, restarted the engine and steered the car back onto the road, the city their destination.
As they drove, a large gathering of people near Stella’s cafe caught their attention. A wave of activity surrounded the building, a festive atmosphere palpable even from a distance.
Daisha, curious, turned to her sister. “You are celebrating something?” she asked, her voice tinged with amusement.
Stella’s explanation was simple and matter-of-fact. “Yeah! I let them use the cafe for a celebration,” she replied, her tone suggesting that this was a common occurrence.
They continued driving, leaving the lively scene behind.
Stella pulled up in front of Daisha’s house, bringing their unexpected journey to an end.
“Finally!” Daisha exclaimed, her relief evident as she unbuckled her seatbelt and prepared to exit the vehicle.
Darrel, Daisha’s partner, emerged from the house the moment he saw Daisha approaching, his eyes lighting up with a warm welcome. He opened the door for her with a flourish. “Hey!” he greeted her enthusiastically, his voice filled with affection.
He embraced Daisha tightly, his arms enveloping her in a loving hug. His gaze then shifted to Stella and Brandon, who had also exited the car. “You told me that they are going to stay here for a couple of weeks,” Darrel stated, his voice a mixture of surprise and acceptance, his eyes settling on Brandon.
Stella, equally surprised, turned to Brandon, her question direct and to the point. “You are going to stay here too?”
Brandon, his expression a mixture of nonchalance and slight embarrassment, nodded his head. “Yeah, she let me do that!” he explained, gesturing towards Daisha with a playful grin.
Darrel, ever the gracious host, extended an invitation. “Come inside!”
They entered the house, the atmosphere shifting from the tense car ride to a more relaxed domesticity.
Stella, still slightly bewildered by the turn of events, shook her head in disbelief and sank onto the couch, her exhaustion evident. “What was that?” she asked Daisha, her voice laced with a mixture of confusion and amusement.
Daisha, her face radiating a mischievous grin, responded with a casual wave of her hand. “Nah! He will leave later!” she reassured her sister, her laughter echoing through the room. “Chill, sis!” she added, settling beside Stella on the couch, her presence a comforting anchor.
Just then, Brandon appeared, his need for refreshment taking precedence over the lingering tension. “Do you have coke here?” he asked, his voice casual, his presence a reminder of the unexpected turn their day had taken.
Daisha, her amusement undiminished, directed him to Darrel. “Ask Darrel for coke!” she instructed, her voice light and teasing, her laughter a testament to the unexpected camaraderie that had unexpectedly blossomed amongst the group.
Brandon’s departure from the living room left Stella and Daisha alone, allowing for a more private conversation.
Stella, her gaze intense, turned to her sister. “Are you good with him now?” she asked, her voice a blend of concern and curiosity.
Daisha nodded, a serene smile gracing her lips. “Yeah, we already settled a lot of things between us,” she replied, her tone suggesting a sense of resolution and newfound peace.
Their moment of quiet reflection was interrupted by Brandon’s return, a can of Coke clutched in his hand. “You want some?” he offered, his voice casual, extending the can towards Stella.
She politely declined, her refusal gentle yet firm.
“Ouch!” he playfully lamented, resuming his seat on the couch, his disappointment feigned yet endearing.
Darrel, ever attentive to his guests, turned to Stella. “How about you Stella, what do you want to drink?” he asked, his voice warm and inviting.
Stella, however, shook her head, her smile a genuine expression of contentment. “I’m good!” she replied, her eyes conveying a sense of relaxation she hadn’t felt in days.
Darrel, sensing their need for some private time, announced his intention to run a quick errand. “I will just buy something in the grocery store!” he said, his voice cheerful.
Daisha, ever supportive of her partner, immediately rose from the couch. “I will go with you!” she declared, her enthusiasm evident.
Darrel waited patiently for her, their departure leaving Stella and Brandon alone in the quiet living room.
Stella, seizing the opportunity for some solitude, announced her own intentions. “I should check my room!” she said, rising from the couch, her movements deliberate.
Brandon, however, was quick to follow, his desire for her company evident. “Hey, wait for me!” he called out, his voice a mixture of playful urgency and genuine concern, his steps quickening as he followed her up the stairs, leaving the quiet living room behind.