Days passed. I was trapped within these walls, unable to leave, unable to see Vander. Luther had barred him from entering the mansion, and the guards made sure I couldn’t sneak out either. I was a prisoner in my own home, suffocating in a golden cage.
I spent most of my time staring out the window, my mind racing for a way out. I couldn’t simply leave; it would damage my pack. A divorce wasn’t just between two people—it was political, a shift in alliances. Timing was everything.
Then, one evening, Luther came to my room. I didn’t look at him, but I felt his presence looming behind me.
"Catherine’s birthday is coming up," he said. "You’ll help prepare for it. It’s your only chance to apologize."
I turned slowly, my hands clenching into fists. "Apologize? For what?"
His gaze was cold. "For your jealousy. For making things difficult. This is your chance to prove you still have a place here."
I let out a bitter laugh. "A place? Do I look like a fool to you?"
He didn’t answer. He didn’t need to. The answer was clear.
Catherine would always come first.