Chapter 60: Crack

Seraphine's POV

I froze.

The dough in my hands hit the counter with a soft thud.

What did I do wrong?

My heart started racing. My mind went into overdrive, cataloging every possible mistake from the past two weeks.

Did I mess up a batch? Did Martha complain to Kaelen? Is this some new punishment he came up with?

The bond pulsed faintly in my chest, but there was nothing from Kaelen's end. No anger. No satisfaction. Just silence.

I forced myself to look at Martha. "I—I'm sorry if I—"

"Sera." Her voice was gentle. She set down her rolling pin and smiled. "Relax, child. This isn't a bad thing."

I blinked. "It's not?"

"No." She laughed softly and wiped flour from her hands. "The bakery will be closed tomorrow. And the next two days after that. For the Moon Festival, remember?"

Oh.

Right.

The festival where I'd have to stand beside Kaelen like a good little mate.

The warmth I'd felt a moment ago evaporated.

"I figured you'd want the time to prepare," Martha continued, wiping down the counter. "Big night tomorrow. The whole pack will be watching."

My stomach dropped.

Watching. Of course they would be.

"Right," I said quietly. "Thanks."

Martha studied me for a moment, her expression softening. "It's not as bad as you think, dear. The Moon Festival is beautiful. Everyone celebrates together—the bonfire, the music, the dancing." She paused. "You might even enjoy yourself."

Enjoy myself.

While being displayed as Kaelen's trophy.

While playing the role of the devoted mate in front of hundreds of wolves.

I grabbed another ball of dough and started kneading harder than necessary.

Martha went back to her work, humming softly. But my mind was racing now.

Three days. Three days of pretending. Of smiling when I was supposed to smile. Of standing beside him like I belonged there.

Like I wanted to be there.

The bond hummed softly, responding to my thoughts.

I tried to picture what it would be like. Standing in the square surrounded by firelight. Music playing. People laughing and dancing.

What would it feel like to just blend in? To be another face in the crowd instead of the Alpha's marked mate?

To dance without every eye on me. To laugh without wondering if I was playing my part right.

The thought sent a dull ache through my chest.

That's what I wanted. Not this performance. Not this cage dressed up as a festival.

Just normalcy.

But I'd never get that. Not here. Not as long as this mark burned on my neck.

Through the window, I caught sight of movement in the trees. Just a shadow, but enough to remind me—someone was always watching.

Even now. Even here.

The fantasy shattered.

This was Kaelen's territory. His pack. His festival.

There was no blending in. No disappearing into the crowd.

There was only the role I'd been assigned.

And I'd play it. Because I had no other choice.

---

The rest of the day passed quickly. Martha kept talking about the festival—describing the food, the decorations, the traditions. I listened, half-focused, my mind somewhere else entirely.

By the time we finished, the sun was starting to dip below the horizon. I untied my apron and hung it on the hook by the door.

Martha walked over to the register and pulled out a small envelope. "Almost forgot," she said, handing it to me. "Your wages for the past two weeks."

I stared at the envelope. Wages. Like I was actually working here. Like this was a real job and not just another cage with prettier bars.

"Thank you," I said quietly, tucking it into my pocket.

Martha smiled. "You've earned it, dear. Get some rest tonight. Big day tomorrow."

I nodded. "Yeah. Thanks."

I stepped outside. The village was alive with energy now. More decorations had gone up since this morning—ribbons tied to posts, pine branches hanging from doorways. A group of kids ran past me, laughing and chasing each other with painted wolf masks.

It looked happy.

I tried to imagine myself here. Not as an outsider. Not as Kaelen's prisoner. Just as someone who belonged.

The thought hurt more than it should have.

I started down the path. The forest stretched ahead, dappled with fading sunlight filtering through the trees.

Alone.

But not really.

Kaelen hadn't assigned visible guards in days, but I wasn't stupid. Someone was always watching. I could feel it—that prickle at the back of my neck, the sense of eyes tracking my movements through the trees.

I kept walking, my boots crunching on the gravel path. The evening air was cool against my skin. My mind kept circling back to tomorrow night.

The festival. The bonfire. All those eyes on me.

On us.

Then I heard footsteps behind me.

I stopped.

Turned.

Vespera.

She stood a few yards back, arms crossed, a cold smile on her lips.

Fuck.

"Well, if it isn't the little baker."

Her voice dripped with contempt.

She walked closer, slow and deliberate. I stayed where I was, forcing myself not to step back.

"I heard you've been busy," she said, stopping a few feet away. "Making bread? How quaint."

My jaw tightened. The bond started jumping in my chest—anxious, restless.

I forced myself to stay calm. "What do you want, Vespera?"

She tilted her head, her smile widening. "Just making conversation. Can't I be friendly?"

"No."

She laughed. A sharp, cold sound. "Fair enough."

She circled me slowly, like a predator sizing up prey. My hands clenched into fists at my sides.

"You know," Vespera said casually, "the Moon Festival is coming up."

My stomach twisted.

She stopped in front of me again, running a hand through her hair. The movement was deliberate—showing off her neck. Smooth. Unmarked.

"I'll be attending with Kaelen," she said, her voice light. "As his date. He invited me himself."

The world tilted.

Everything went cold.

No.

The bond erupted. A violent, searing pulse that nearly knocked the breath out of me. My vision blurred at the edges. My chest felt like it was caving in.

She's lying. She has to be lying.

But the way she smiled—the confidence in her eyes—

My wolf snarled inside me.

MINE.

The word thundered through my skull, primal and furious.

No. Stop it. He's not mine. I don't want him to be mine.

But my wolf didn't listen. She never did.

And looking at Vespera's smug face—at that triumphant gleam in her eyes—something snapped inside me.

Fine.

If she wanted to play this game, I'd play.

Vespera's smile widened. "Nothing to say? I thought you'd—"

"He doesn't love you."

My voice came out low. Rough. The wolf bled into it, adding a resonance that didn't belong to my human form.

Vespera's expression hardened. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me." I stepped forward, watching her face. "He doesn't love you. He never will."

Her jaw tightened. "And you think he loves you? You're delusional."

She's right. He doesn't love me. He hates me. Uses me.

But I didn't care about the truth right now.

I cared about wiping that smug look off her face.

"Look at me."

The command came out sharp. Dangerous.

Before I could think—before I could stop myself—my hands moved.

I grabbed the collar of my shirt and yanked it down, hard.

The mark blazed on my neck. Fresh. Permanent. His.

"See this?" My voice shook with barely controlled rage. "This is what he gave me. Not you. Me."