The Burden of Living

Elodie's POV

The instant Kiernan releases my wrists and stalks out of the room, I slam my bedroom door so hard the plaster walls shake. The loud thud echoes through the massive space, but it does nothing to settle my racing pulse. My chest heaves up and down. My breathing sounds ragged in the quiet room. I rub the tender skin of my wrists where his fingers dug in just moments ago, feeling the phantom heat of his grip. As much as I want to brush off his intimidation, his low, dark threats have scared me to my core. The air in my room still smells like his woodsy scent, suffocating and dangerous.

I stumble forward on trembling legs and collapse onto my enormous, unfamiliar mattress. I bury my face deep into the down pillow, letting out a frustrated, muffled scream. I wish with everything I have that I could just have a normal life for once. Relocating to this huge estate feels like a massive, irreversible mistake.

Back in our old pack, life was far from perfect. I dealt with constant bullying over my failing heart condition. The other teenagers always found a way to mock my awkward braces and pale skin. But at least I had my best friends to sit with at lunch. Here, I have nothing. I only have a hostile stepbrother who hates my guts and a mother who seems far more concerned with pleasing Alpha Garrick than protecting her own daughter.

God, I miss my dad so much. An ache blooms in my chest just thinking about his warm smile. He always made me feel special and wanted. Whenever the kids at school were cruel, he would hold me tight and remind me I belonged. With him, I never felt like a burden meant to be tolerated.

My phone vibrates against the mattress, buzzing right next to my ear. I roll over, dragging myself up, and grab the device. The screen lights up with a group text from Maisie and Jovie.

*Maisie: Girl! How is the new pack life? Are you living in pure luxury yet?*

*Jovie: Yeah! Send pictures of the mansion. Is it as fancy as we imagined? I bet your room is huge!*

I wipe a frustrated tear from my cheek, staring at the bright screen, and type back quickly.

*Me: It is complicated. Alpha Garrick is polite, and yeah, the house is massive. But my new stepbrother is a nightmare.*

*Maisie: OMG! Your mom moved on fast. What is the stepdad like? Is he ancient?*

*Me: Garrick is fine. But his son, Kiernan, is the hockey captain at my new school and he literally makes my life hell.*

*Jovie: Wait, what? You have a hot hockey stepbrother and you are complaining? Trade places with me right now!*

*Maisie: Jovie, let her finish! You talk way too much!*

*Me: He is not hot. He basically called me and my mom gold diggers and threatened me just now. He wants us gone.*

*Jovie: Okay, now I am curious. Show us a picture of this monster. I need to judge him.*

I open Instagram, preparing to search for his profile to prove my point, when the heavy brass handle of my door turns. The door bursts open without a knock. I flinch hard, my heart skipping a beat as I brace myself for another brutal confrontation with Kiernan.

Instead, my mother steps into the room.

I blink, staring at her in shock. She looks transformed. She is wearing a body-hugging black designer dress that clings to every curve of her figure, ending just above her knees. Her hair, usually tied in a messy bun, is sleek and pulled back. My mother, who almost never bothers with cosmetics, has her face done up with bright red lipstick and dark mascara. She looks ready to step onto a red carpet.

"How do I look?" she asks, her voice buzzing with excitement. She spins around, the expensive silk fabric catching the light, and blushes as she checks her reflection in my full-length mirror. "Garrick is taking me out to this fancy French restaurant tonight."

A sharp, painful pang of jealousy hits me straight in the gut. I feel it on my late father's behalf. Seeing her act like a giddy teenager going on a first date feels like a slap to his memory.

"Mom..." I start, my voice tight and strained. "Don't you think it is a little too soon for fancy dates? You barely even know him."

Her bright smile vanishes in a split second. Her posture hardens, the soft blush fading into a rigid, defensive glare. She snaps, "Elodie, he is my husband! Not some stranger."

My chest begins to tighten at her raised voice. She never yells at me. My heart rate picks up, drumming an erratic, dangerous rhythm against my ribs.

"How am I supposed to know that?" I retort, hot tears pricking the corners of my eyes. I sit up on the bed, clutching the expensive sheets in my fists. "You didn't give me a choice. You just shoved him into my life and expected me to be fine with it!"

The defensive anger drains from her face, replaced by a sudden, heavy exhaustion. Her shoulders slump forward. She walks over slowly and sits heavily on the edge of my bed. Her eyes fill with unshed tears, and she stares down at her trembling hands.

"Elodie..." Her voice cracks, sounding fragile and broken. "You know I am doing this for us."

"By marrying a man you just met?" I demand, my voice shaking.

She shakes her head, a tear slipping down her pale cheek. "You do not understand how cruel this world is to single, widowed mothers. If I had rejected Alpha Garrick's offer, the council would have banished us from the pack. We had no protection. I had nowhere else to turn."

She takes a shaky breath, rubbing her temples. The glamorous makeup fails to hide the deep lines of stress on her face. "I could never afford your new high school tuition. And your father... he left massive debts behind. I could not pay them alone. Most of all, Elodie... the mounting medical bills for your failing heart. The specialists, the medications. They were drowning me. We were going to lose everything."

The confession hits me like a physical blow. The air leaves my lungs.

"Stop!" I scream.

Hot, stinging tears stream down my face, blurring my vision. My chest aches with a sharp, squeezing pressure. The doctors have warned me time and time again against stressing my heart, telling me that intense emotions will spike my heart rate to dangerous levels, but the crushing weight of guilt is too much to bear. I feel like the very root of all her misery. Every bad thing in her life leads back to me and my broken body.

"Isn't it best if I just die and leave you to enjoy your beautiful, wealthy life alone?" I sob, the cruel words tearing out of my throat. "If I wasn't cursed by the moon goddess with this broken heart, you wouldn't have to marry some stranger for his money! You could be free!"

"No! Don't you dare say that!" she cries out in horror. She rushes forward, throwing her arms around me and clutching my cold hands in a desperate, iron grip. "You are not a curse, Elodie! Never say that again! You are my baby."

My eyes burn with fresh tears. I look at her desperate, tear-stained face, but I only feel cold and empty inside. The guilt sits heavy in my stomach, rotting away any comfort her words might bring. If I were gone, she would have the perfect, debt-free life she deserves. She could start over. She wouldn't have to sell herself to an Alpha just to keep me breathing.

I pull my hands free from her tight grip, sliding out of her embrace.

"Don't try to make me feel better, Mom," I whisper, my voice hollow and defeated. "It only makes me feel worse. Just... go have a good time on your date."

"Elodie, please—"

Before she can say another word or reach for me again, I turn away. I rush across the room, slip into the attached bathroom, and slam the heavy door shut behind me. I turn the metal lock with a sharp click.

The silence of the tiled room surrounds me, thick and heavy. I lean my back against the cool wood of the door, sliding down until I hit the cold floor. Tears blur my vision, spilling over my cheeks and dropping onto my shirt. I wrap my arms around my knees, pulling them tight against my aching chest. The chill from the bathroom floor seeps through my clothes, but it does nothing to numb the pain inside. I stare at the small, orange pill bottle sitting on the bathroom counter. My life-saving heart medication. The very thing chaining my mother to this miserable situation. My chest throbs in rhythm with my erratic pulse, but a dark, overwhelming desire takes root in my mind. Maybe it really would be best if I just stopped taking them.