Chapter 6 Who Permitted You To Come?

• The next day, I ran into Darius at the Alliance’s Central Research Tower. It hadn’t been long since the full moon passed, yet it was as if nothing had happened at all. He was still the same—cold, distant, untouchable. The cruelest part was that my body still remembered him. The weight of him lingered, a trace I couldn’t shake off—damn it.
• I hadn’t known he and Lyra were already back from Ironvale Ridge’s capital. I was turning the corner with a stack of neural logs in hand when I caught sight of him, his boots echoing against the polished floors.
• My steps froze.
• For a brief second, I forgot how to breathe.
• Darius saw me, too. His expression shifted ever so slightly in surprise, but it was gone so quickly that I almost doubted it had been there at all. He must’ve assumed I had just returned from a branch office trip, like before. No concern. No questions.
• Just... nothing.
• He brushed past me without a word.
• Once upon a time, I would have lit up just seeing him—would’ve rushed to greet him, cheeks flushed, heart racing at the mere sound of his voice, even if it was just a cold “Good morning.”
• But that girl? She doesn’t exist anymore.
• I stood still for a moment, watching him disappear into the tower. Then I quietly turned around and headed back to the AI wing to resume my neural phase model debugging.
• Half an hour later, Logan’s voice came through the intercom, clipped and casual: “Alpha wants two cold brew vodkas. The kind you make.”
• My fingers paused on the console.
• That old habit of his—sending for my special blends. For years, I’d studied his preferences down to the temperature gradient of his drinks depending on the season. And I thought if I just got it right—if I got him right—maybe one day, he’d look at me and see more than just the Luna the council forced into his life.
• I was wrong.
• He loved the coffee. But never the person who made it.
• Still, I brewed the drinks, placed them carefully on a tray, and headed to his office.
• The door was half-closed when I arrived. I lifted my hand to knock—just as my gaze landed on what was inside.
• Emma.
• Perched on Darius’s lap, her arms loosely wound around his shoulders. Their faces were just inches apart. Her laugh soft and syrupy.
• I froze.
• The tray in my hand tipped—one of the cups slipped, hot coffee splashing across my wrist and soaking into the pristine rug below.
• Emma jolted up, her face flushing as she scrambled off him. Darius’s expression iced over instantly.
• “Who permitted you to come in?” he said coldly, his voice like a whip in the silent room.
• “I—I was just bringing your cof—” I started, voice trembling.
• “Enough, Rae,” Beta David snapped, stepping in from behind. His gaze cut through me with something between pity and disgust. “This is starting to look pathetic.”
• The implication was clear: I had barged in on purpose, playing the poor, scorned wife. Again.
• And Darius? He said nothing. Not even a word to stop the accusations. His silence said everything.
• I clenched the tray tighter, coffee burning across my skin.
• “Please leave,” David added. “Immediately.”
• My throat burned with unshed words. But I said nothing. I simply turned and walked out, dragging what little pride I had left with me.
• But then, behind me, Darius’s voice struck like a blade.
• “Don’t come back to this building again.”
• The hallway spun slightly, but I kept walking, each step heavier than the last. I reached the breakroom and dumped both drinks down the sink, the scent of vanilla and dark roast filling the air like a cruel mockery. The scald on my hand throbbed. I ran it under cool water, silent, precise. Pulled the herbal ointment from my bag and applied it without flinching.
• I used to carry this for the kids. Lyra’s skinned knees. Luca’s burns from playing near the stove. Now I kept it for myself.
• I had learned to make coffee, cook, fix grid batteries, and patch wounds—all skills I never had before marriage. I used to be a celebrated researcher. Once, I couldn’t even boil water.
• But for them—for him—I became everything.
• And still, it was never enough.
• When I returned to the AI wing, two researchers were huddled by the vending machine, whispering excitedly.
• “Did you hear? Alpha’s new mate is here.”
• “Seriously? Who is she?”
• “The front desk said she’s from the Blackthorn lineage. Tall, gorgeous, and she came in wearing a suit that probably cost more than my car. The elders practically rolled out a red carpet for her.”
• I didn’t say anything. Just gathered my notes, heart cold and quiet.
• I followed them to the elevator. When the doors opened, we all stepped out—and came face-to-face with Emma herself.
• She walked confidently between four Pack Elders, her sleek white outfit hugging her curves like it had been sculpted onto her. She looked like she belonged there. Regal. Immaculate. Chosen.
• She glanced at me once—and didn’t flinch.
• The elders fawned over her. “It’s an honor to finally have you here, Miss Emma.”
• “Your bond with Alpha is something we’ve all looked forward to seeing recognized.”
• Emma smiled, her tone gracious but distant. “I appreciate the warm welcome.”
• They made it sound so... final.
• As they passed, one of the elders frowned and scolded: “Watch where you’re standing! What if you bumped into her? Have you forgotten your manners?”
• The two researchers beside me stiffened. I simply bowed my head slightly in acknowledgment. I didn’t respond. I didn’t need to.
• Because at that moment, I understood—completely, clearly.
• In this Pack… in this building… in his world.
• I no longer belonged.