Morning arrived.
Thin rays of sunlight slipped through the floor-to-ceiling windows of the penthouse, stretching across the polished marble floor until they settled on the woman lying motionless beside the couch.
Raquelle Blackwood didn’t move.
Empty liquor bottles surrounded her.
One rested against her thigh, while another lay on its side beneath the coffee table, its last amber drops staining the expensive rug.
A dull ache pulsed behind her eyes, followed quickly by another.
Her lashes fluttered.
“…Mm.” She slowly opened her eyes, only to shut them tightly as the harsh morning light stabbed through her skull.
Everything hurt—her head, her throat, and her chest.
No, it wasn’t her chest that ached.
It was her soul.
For several long seconds, she remained exactly where she was, staring blankly at the ceiling as fragments of yesterday drifted through her mind: the dungeon, the chains, the sweet scent of a mate, the silver dagger, and her own voice.
Raquelle’s breathing hitched as her fingers instinctively pressed against the center of her chest.
The pain was still there, but it wasn’t physical; it was something far worse.
It felt as though an invisible hand had reached inside her body and torn away a piece of her very existence, leaving behind nothing but an endless, aching void.
Slowly, she closed her eyes.
*Roxy?* Silence answered her.
Raquelle swallowed, trying again.
*Roxy…* Nothing.
There was not even the faintest growl, a sarcastic remark, a complaint, or anger.
There was absolutely nothing.
Her wolf had always been there since the day she first shifted, accompanying her through every victory, every sleepless night, and every difficult decision.
Roxy had never left her side until now.
A crack finally appeared in the rigid wall around Raquelle’s heart.
“…Please,” the whisper barely escaped her lips, her voice trembling in the quiet room.
“I know you’re angry.
But don’t leave me alone.” Silence answered her once again.
For the first time since she became Alpha, genuine fear crept into Raquelle’s heart.
It wasn’t the fear of war, death, or losing her position; it was the terrifying realization that she had lost the one companion who had never abandoned her.
She squeezed her eyes shut, willing herself not to cry.
She had cried enough last night, and there were no tears left anyway—only emptiness.
Taking a slow, shaky breath, Raquelle pushed herself upright.
The room spun violently, forcing her to steady herself against the couch until the dizziness faded.
Without bothering to clean the empty bottles or straighten up the living room, she walked toward the bathroom with heavy, lifeless steps.
The woman reflected in the mirror almost made her stop in her tracks.
Dark circles shadowed her golden eyes, smudged mascara stained the skin beneath them, and her usually immaculate black hair was tangled beyond recognition.
She looked completely broken.
Raquelle stared at her reflection for a long moment.
“…You did the right thing,” she whispered.
The words sounded entirely hollow.
She waited, almost expecting the mirror to argue, or Roxy to scoff, or the guilt to lessen.
Nothing happened.
Only the silence remained.
She reached for the shower handle and twisted it, letting the ice-cold water crash over her body.
She welcomed the freezing temperature, it was not colder than the emptiness inside her.
*** The drive to the Blackwood Pack Headquarters took less than ten minutes.
The towering iron gates slowly parted as Raquelle’s black SUV approached, revealing the sprawling administrative complex nestled deep within the heart of the territory.
From the outside, it resembled the sleek headquarters of a company, but inside, it was the nerve center of one of the most powerful werewolf packs in the country.
Pack members hurried across the courtyard carrying files and tablets, while warriors in black uniforms patrolled the perimeter.
Secretaries greeted department heads as they disappeared into elevators, and security personnel monitored every entrance with practiced precision.
The moment Raquelle stepped out of the vehicle, the atmosphere shifted instantly.
“Good morning, Alpha,” every voice echoed with deep respect, and she acknowledged them with a brief nod before walking through the glass doors.
Usually, her arrival brightened the entire building.
She would stop to tease the receptionists, ask about a pack member’s injured son, or steal Dominic’s coffee just to annoy him.
Today, there was nothing.
Her heels struck the polished floor in slow, measured clicks as employees instinctively stepped aside.
They exchanged uneasy glances once she passed, whispering quietly among themselves.
“…Did something happen?” “I’ve never seen the Alpha this quiet.” “Neither have I.” The murmurs finally faded as the elevator doors closed.
When they reopened on the executive floor, Beta Dominic Blue was already waiting outside her office, a digital tablet tucked beneath his arm.
He had clearly been waiting for her arrival.
“You’re late,” he noted.
Raquelle removed her sunglasses, revealing the sheer exhaustion beneath her eyes.
“I know.” Dominic’s expression remained unreadable, but his wolf caught what his face refused to show: intense concern.
He handed her the tablet, outlining the day’s schedule.
“Department briefing in fifteen minutes.
Border patrol report at ten.
Finance review after lunch.
The elders requested a council meeting later this evening.” Raquelle skimmed through the schedule before handing it back.
“Reschedule the finance review.” Dominic frowned, his eyes narrowing.
“You never postpone finance.” “I’m postponing it,” she repeated firmly.
He studied her for another moment, noticing that she wasn’t looking at the tablet or at him.
Instead, she was staring blankly through the large windows overlooking the territory, as if her mind wasn’t in the room at all.
“…Did you sleep?” he asked quietly.
Raquelle let out a humorless laugh.
“I rested.” “That’s not what I asked.” Silence settled heavily between them.
Finally, she spoke without turning around.
“If there’s nothing else, Dominic…” He knew a dismissal when he heard one, though he hesitated.
For the first time in years, he questioned whether leaving her alone was the right thing to do.
But before he could say another word, Raquelle walked past him toward the conference room.
The Alpha’s posture remained perfectly straight, and her steps never faltered.
Dominic noticed the difference; she wasn’t walking because she wanted to, she was walking because stopping meant remembering.
The conference room fell dead silent the moment Raquelle stepped inside.
Department heads, senior warriors, financial advisers, and border commanders immediately rose to their feet.
“Good morning, Alpha.” She acknowledged them with a slight nod.
“Be seated.” As everyone settled back into their chairs, Raquelle took her usual seat at the head of the long ebony table.
Dominic occupied the chair to her right, while Jake lounged on her left, spinning a pen lazily between his fingers.
Jake stole a glance at her, noting the lack of a sarcastic remark or a playful jab.
He frowned, realizing something was terribly wrong.
Dominic tapped his tablet to begin.
“The meeting will begin with the border report.” One after another, the department heads delivered their updates, stating that the northern border remained secure, no rogue activity had been detected in the eastern territory, and patrol units had doubled their night rotations.
Raquelle listened quietly, her fingers lightly intertwined on the table.
At least, it looked like she was listening.
In reality, the voices around her gradually blurred together into background noise.
*’So…
who’s gonna kill him?’* Her own voice echoed inside her mind, causing the room to disappear.
*’I did kill someone…’* her dead mate’s face flashed before her eyes.
His voice, his words, and those piercing blue eyes that had stared at her without fear haunted her thoughts.
*’You would have to die.’* “Alpha?” Silence.
“…Alpha?” Raquelle didn’t move.
Jake exchanged a deeply worried glance with Dominic, and Dominic leaned forward slightly, his voice cutting through her trance.
“Raquelle.” She blinked, and the conference room suddenly snapped back into focus.
Every pair of eyes was on her, and she hadn’t even realized the room had gone quiet.
“My apologies,” she said calmly, though her pulse had begun to race.
“Continue.” No one spoke.
The border commander cleared his throat awkwardly before continuing his report, while Jake stopped spinning his pen altogether.
He had known Raquelle for a long time now and never for once had she drifted away during an official meeting.
Today, she looked like a woman carrying a weight no one else could see.
*** Awwww….our sweet FL.
She’s feeling so down now…..