Chapter 2 Broken
I touch my face self-consciously. "Do I have something on my face?"
I run to the bathroom mirror, but my reflection shows nothing except my usual features. Same olive skin that's so different from everyone else's pale complexion. Same amber eyes when theirs are blue or grey. Same black hair in a pack full of silver and white.
I've always looked wrong here. Out of place. But it's the only home I've ever known.
"If you're going to tell me I look terrible, just don't." I try to joke, forcing a small laugh. "I already know."
But Damon doesn't laugh. His jaw is clenched tight, and his grey eyes—usually so calm—are storming with anger.
"Why?" I ask, confused. "What's wrong?"
He lets out a long breath and looks away, running a hand through his white-blonde hair. "I hate seeing you like this, Sage. You're my best friend, and I have to watch you get hurt every single day. Pretend I don't notice when I can see everything."
My stomach drops. He knows. Somehow, he's always known. Even when I've healed the bruises. Even when I've smiled and acted like nothing's wrong.
When Stella scratched my arms last week—claimed I'd "bumped into her"—Damon stared at them for a long moment before handing me healing ointment without a word.
When she gave me a black eye after shoving me into a cabinet, Damon passed me extra concealer even though I'd already covered it.
He's never said anything directly. Until now.
"I don't know what you're talking about." I move toward the door, desperate to escape this conversation. "We should go down to the dining hall. Dinner will be starting soon."
"Sage." Damon catches my hand, stopping me. His grip is gentle but firm. "Please."
"Dam—"
"You have no idea how hard it's been," he says quietly, and there's so much pain in his voice that I freeze. "Watching someone hurt you while I can't do anything about it. You're my best friend, Sage. Tell Mason. He deserves to know what Stella is doing to you."
I shake my head violently. "He doesn't care. He never will."
"You don't know that—"
"Yes, I do!" The words burst out of me. "She's his mate, Damon. His true mate. The one he searched for all those years. I'm nothing compared to that. Nothing compared to her."
The mate bond is sacred. Unbreakable. I learned that growing up in this pack. When you find your mate, they become your entire world. Nothing else matters. No one else matters.
That's why Mason abandoned me so easily. That's why he'll never choose me over Stella.
"Just... please don't tell anyone about this," I beg, pulling my hand free. "I can handle it. I can take care of myself."
Before Damon can argue, I walk out of my room. I can't have this conversation. Can't let him see how broken I really am inside.
The dining hall is already full when I arrive. The massive room buzzes with conversation and laughter. Long tables are packed with pack members eating and talking. It reminds me of high school cafeterias in the human movies Mason and I used to watch together, except everyone here is family.
Or they used to feel like family.
My eyes automatically scan the room for Mason and Stella. I spot them at the head table, sitting close together. She's laughing at something he said, her hand on his arm. He's smiling down at her like she hung the moon.
My chest tightens. I look away quickly before the tears can start again.
"Sage! Over here!" Elena waves from our usual table. Her twin sister Willow sits beside her, and Aspen—Willow's mate—is stuffing his face with food like he hasn't eaten in days.
Nash, Elena's mate, gives me a small smile from behind his book. He's always reading, always quiet. The opposite of loud, boisterous Aspen.
I make my way over, grateful for friends who still treat me normally. Who don't whisper about me or avoid my eyes.
"Ready to get destroyed at skiing later?" Aspen grins at me with food in his teeth.
I stick my tongue out at him. "You mean ready to destroy you? I've been beating you since we were ten."
"Keep dreaming, Sage—" Willow elbows him in the ribs. "Don't embarrass yourself, babe."
She mouths 'sorry' to me, and I mouth back that it's fine. Aspen's been like an annoying brother to me for years. His teasing feels normal. Safe.
Damon arrives with a plate piled high with food and sits beside me. He slides the plate between us without a word.
"Try the salmon," he links into my mind. "It's really good."
I take a bite, and the flavors explode on my tongue. Rich and buttery and perfect. "Oh wow."
Damon laughs softly. "Easy there. Save some for the rest of us."
I nudge him with my elbow, a genuine smile crossing my face for the first time all day. Moments like this make the pain bearable. Sitting with friends, laughing, pretending my heart isn't shattered into a million pieces.
Then I feel eyes on me. When I glance up, Stella is staring directly at me from the head table. Her expression is sweet—too sweet—and there's something dangerous lurking behind those pale eyes.
My smile dies. My body goes rigid with fear.
"Hey, Aspen!" Stella's voice rings out across the dining hall. Conversations quiet. Heads turn. "Can you pass me the salt?"
She stands up, Mason's arm around her waist, and makes her way toward our table. Toward me. My hands start shaking under the table. What is she doing? She never approaches me in public. Never lets anyone see her true nature.
"Here you go, Sage." She emphasizes my name—my actual name—as she holds out the salt shaker. Her smile is wide and fake and terrifying.
Everyone is watching now. Waiting. The dining hall has gone nearly silent.
"Th-thank you," I stammer, reaching for the salt.
In a split second, Stella flips open the cap. Salt pours out over my head, into my hair, down my hoodie. Gasps echo through the room. My eyes burn as salt gets into them. I blink rapidly, trying to clear them while sitting frozen in shock.
What just happened? What just—
"Oh no! I'm so sorry!" Stella gasps dramatically. "I'm such a klutz! I meant to just hand it to you, but it spilled everywhere. Maybe it thought you needed some seasoning, little mermaid."
She giggles. Actually giggles like this is funny.
I sit there covered in salt while everyone stares at me. Heat floods my face. Shame crashes over me in waves. Salt stings my eyes and burns my skin, but I don't move. Can't move.
Don't cry, I tell myself. Don't cry. She's not worth it.
But tears prick at the corners of my eyes anyway. My throat closes up. She's never humiliated me in front of everyone before. Always in private where no one could see. Now the entire pack has witnessed her "accidentally" dumping salt on me, and they'll never forget it.
My reputation is destroyed. My dignity is gone. And there's nothing I can do about it.
Through blurry vision, I look up at Mason. He's standing beside Stella, his face blank. Empty. Like I'm a stranger instead of someone he once claimed to love.
"Make it stop," I link directly to him for the first time since Stella arrived. "Please, Mason. Please make her stop."
For a heartbeat, I think I see something flicker in his ice-blue eyes. Guilt maybe. Or regret. But then he looks away. Just looks away like I'm not sitting here covered in salt and humiliation. Like I'm not begging him to help me.
Stella leans close to my ear and whispers so only I can hear, "I told you he'll never love you again. Save whatever dignity you have left and disappear, you pathetic slut."
She straightens up, and before walking away, she grabs my plate of salmon. Dumps the entire thing on my head. Fish slides down my hair, into my hoodie. Sauce drips onto my lap.
"Oops," she says loudly, voice dripping with fake concern. "Little mermaid can't be complete without her fish friend, right?"
Laughter ripples through some of the younger pack members. Others look uncomfortable, glancing between me and Mason. Waiting for him to do something. Say something.
He does nothing.
Mason takes Stella's hand and leads her back to their table like nothing happened. Like I'm not sitting here wishing I could disappear. Wishing I could die.
At that moment, I want to stop existing. Want the ground to swallow me whole.
"Oh goddess, Sage, I'm so sorry," Elena whispers, her hand finding mine under the table.
But her comfort barely registers. All I can think about is how Mason used to look at me the way he now looks at Stella. Used to hold me the way he's holding her now. Used to love me.
Until he didn't. Until she arrived, and I became nothing.
"Let's go," Damon's voice cuts through my spiraling thoughts. He's linking to me, his mental voice gentle. "Let's get you out of here."
I nod slowly because it's all I can do. My body feels disconnected from my mind. Damon's hands guide me to my feet, steadying me when my legs shake. He leads me toward the side exit, away from all those staring eyes.
The moment the dining hall doors close behind us, I collapse.
My knees hit the stone floor hard. I can't breathe. Can't think. Everything is crashing down around me at once, and I'm drowning in it. Drowning in the memories of Mason holding me. Mason kissing me. Mason promising he'd always love me no matter what.
Lies. All lies.
"Sage, please," Damon says urgently, kneeling beside me. "We need to move before people start coming out. I don't want anyone else seeing you like this."
His hand is on my shoulder, trying to ground me, but I'm already gone. Lost in the pain. Lost in the heartbreak that's been building for seven days straight.
"Can you—" I hiccup through tears. "Help me up?"
"Of course." Damon slides his arm around my waist, pulling me to my feet. I lean against him heavily, hiding my face in his neck because I can't stand anymore. Can't hold myself up.
"I'm sorry," I manage to choke out.
"Don't apologize," he says firmly, practically carrying me down the hallway. "This isn't your fault. None of this is your fault, Sage. This is just fate being cruel."
Fate. I used to believe in fate. Believed I was meant to find the White Moon Pack. Meant to fall in love with Mason. That we were destined for each other.
Now the word makes me sick.
When we reach my room, Damon helps me to the bed. I immediately curl into a ball, pulling my knees to my chest. Hugging myself because there's no one else to hold me anymore.
I don't care that my clothes are wet with fish sauce and covered in salt. Don't care that I probably smell terrible. All I care about is the crushing weight in my chest that won't go away.
"I think you should rest," Damon says softly. I feel the bed dip as he sits beside me.
His hand touches my arm, and though he doesn't say the words, I can feel what he's trying to tell me. I'm here. I'm not leaving. You're not alone.
But I am alone. More alone than I've ever been in my life.
"I'll talk to him," Damon promises. "I'll make Mason understand what's happening. He was probably just overwhelmed tonight, but he'll come around. He cares about you, Sage. When you wake up, things will be better. I promise."
His words are kind. Hopeful. But they feel empty. Because Damon doesn't understand what it's like to love someone who stops loving you back. To watch them fall for someone else right in front of you.