3. Chapter 3
Chapter 3
Lena
I’ve just settled into my room when Daphne’s ringtone echoes through the air—cheerful jingle bells that match her obsession with Christmas.
I can't help but smile; it suits her perfectly. If there’s one thing Daphne loves more than anything, it’s Christmas.
The magic, the love, the family traditions—it’s like her dream come true, and it shows in every detail she’s put into her wedding.
But for me, Christmas was always just another reminder of what I didn’t have.
No family, no pack traditions, just another day on the calendar.
“You can’t bear to go on even two minutes without me, can you?’ I tease, upon answering the call. “Really, Daphne, this isn’t going to work anymore. You’re getting married. I can’t be the ultimate love of your life anymore.”
“Spare me the comedy, Lena, and get here ASAP,” Daphne replies. “I’m doing some unpacking and organizing, and I need your help. You can do your snoring later.”
My brows scrunch into a frown. “What? I don’t snore when I sleep!”
“Ahem. Whatever you say, sweetie. Now get here quick.” The line disconnects.
Five minutes later, I rejoined Daphne in her deluxe suite, and I suddenly did not feel sleepy at all anymore.
“Oh wow,” I murmur in an awed voice, casting my eyes around the place. “They really gave your room the Christmas vibe, didn’t they?”
Daphne’s honeymoon suite has been turned into a dazzling sea of reds and greens, everything shining with gilded ornaments.
Hotel management has removed the couches and armchairs, and in their place lie a host of scarlet divans and rocking chairs, which look exotic and expensive.
Tiny faerie lights hang from the walls and the overhead ceiling, spilling their enchanting hues across the empty spaces.
In the leftmost corner of the main seating area, a giant Christmas Tree stands, each branch adorned with tiny copper bells that catch the overhead light and refract it into a rainbow of shades.
I spot at least a dozen snug-looking Santa Claus hats lying next to Daphne, surrounding a pretty wicker basket that’s been filled with candy canes.
“Wow,” I murmur again, feeling the festive air getting to me, raising my spirits. Suddenly my own room and bed don’t look quite so cozy anymore. Or appealing.
“Quit gawking and come here,” Daphne orders. She’s bent over three giant, bulging suitcases, one of which looks like it might burst any moment.
“What can I help you with?”
“Well, I need you to help me unpack these wedding favors. The chocolates need to go into gift bags for the guests. And I know, I know, you’ll be tempted to eat them, but resist. They’re for the wedding, Lena.” She tries to give me a playful glare but ends up laughing.
“Lindt, of course,” I say, forcing my tone to be light. “Fancy chocolate for a fancy wedding.”
“Only the best for Christmas,” she responds with a grin, her love for the season shining through.
“Right. Well, let’s get to it. The sooner we finish, the sooner we can relax, right?” I go over to the pile of totes she pointed at and sit down cross-legged amidst all the pretty lights and displays.
It is way outside my comfort zone to do any of these wedding things. My talents lie in medicine. I am much more comfortable with medications and bandages than ribbons and gift bags.
However, I was ready for a break from the fast-paced hustle and bustle of the emergency room, where I spend the majority of my time these days since I graduated nursing school.
Before I can start unpacking, Daphne’s phone suddenly bursts to life, blaring “All I Want for Christmas Is You” by Mariah Care. The kind of upbeat, joyful jingle that only Daphne would have as a ringtone since September.
Classic her, never missing a chance to bring Christmas spirit into every moment.
I glance over to Daphne’s phone buzzing on the table beside me. It’s closer to me than her, so I pick it up to silence the jingle before it drives one of us crazy.
“Daphne, your phone,” I call out, waving it at her as she unpacks one of her overflowing suitcases.
“Who is it?” she asks, looking up with a distracted smile.
“It’s an email,” I say as I look down at the screen and see a notification for the email marked ‘URGENT.’ Normally I wouldn’t pry, but the sender catches my eye immediately: Joanne Alders.
My stomach twists, and I can't stop myself from opening it. From what I have heard, Joanne is Derek's current girlfriend.
The email pops open, and my eyes dart across the words as my heartbeat quickens.
Hello Daphne,
I hope you’re doing well! I wanted to reach out personally since I know you’ve been close to Derek and will soon be a part of his pack. He and I are getting married soon, and we’d love to have you at the wedding!
A tightness grips my chest. I scroll down to find more.
However, I just want to clarify one thing—I hope you understand that Lena is not invited. Derek feels it would be uncomfortable for everyone, especially given the history. I know you and Lena are close, but it’s essential for Derek and me that this day goes smoothly. We don’t want any distractions or past issues casting a shadow on our wedding. Derek is sure Lena will try to come and stir things up, but we’d like to avoid any drama since she is not over him and doesn’t want to let him go.
I stop reading, my fingers trembling as I hold the phone.
I can barely breathe.
Joanne’s words claw at me, sinking deeper and more profound.
Uncomfortable. Stir things up. Not invited.
“What is it about Lena?” Daphne’s voice breaks into my daze, pulling me back to reality. She’s looking at me with concern, oblivious to the email and the words that feel like knives.
I swallow hard and force a smile, quickly locking the phone and setting it back down on the table. “It’s... nothing. Just looks like a scam email.”
I try to shake it off, but the hurt clings to me like a second skin. The idea that Derek thinks I would try to ruin his wedding—to Joanne, of all people—makes my blood boil.
I have no interest in seeing him, let alone “stirring things up.” And now I know, deep down, he’s been feeding Joanne lies about me—enough to make her think I’m some kind of threat.
“You sure everything is okay?” Daphne’s voice is gentle, snapping me out of my spiraling thoughts once more.
She’s holding a Christmas ornament in one hand, a wreath in the other, looking every bit the excited bride. And here I am, bringing all my baggage to her special day.
“Yeah,” I lie, clearing my throat. “All good. Just got a bit distracted.” I force myself to smile again, hoping it looks convincing.
I rise to my feet. Or rather, I feel my body raise itself to its feet. I’m no longer in control of it. Everything seems to be happening automatically. My mouth opens, and my words slip out in a clipped, frighteningly flat voice.
“I—I have a headache coming on, I am going to go take some meds and be right back!” I answer back, hoping the tremor in my voice isn’t too evident.
And then I leave, quickly walking across the hallway and down the winding stairs before Daphne can come out and see what’s happened.
I head down into the reception and leave through the back door, where no one else can see me.
Larry and his family are probably still in the main lobby, sorting out all the arrangements. The back door is my only option.
The first of my tears makes its way out as I step into the open, letting the wind caress my face and dry the liquid remains of my sorrow before they have a chance to run down my cheeks.
I walk towards the edge of the lake, trying not to dwell upon that email, trying not to remember those thorns Joanne hid between her polite words, perfectly placed to cause the most pain. And they did.
My heart actually feels like someone crushed it. Each beat sends a tight agony shooting through my chest, making me want to lie down and curl into a ball.
Once at the edge of the lake, I turn my head towards the ground and let the tears run more freely, no longer strong enough to hold them in.
And as they flow, I raise one hand and discreetly wipe them from my face, hoping no one is watching.
I have always been one who tends to release my anger in my tears, but only when I am alone. The anger bubbles up and erupts out of my body instead of lashing out in other ways.
Since there are only a couple of people out at this time, at least that’s one relief I’ve been given—the relief of living my sorrow and anger in private, with no spectators.
There’s a pair of children playing to my right and a dewy-eyed couple to my left, too lost in love to notice me. I’m safe. Safe and alone.
Then why does it feel like someone is watching?
The feeling is strangely unnerving.
And it comes from deep within me, far too deep for it to be a gut feeling. No, this is something else entirely—something I’ve never experienced before.
This feeling comes from my inner wolf. I can sense it now, alert and stiffened, letting me know that a pair of eyes are on me.
Unsettled, I cast a quick glance around the grasslands stretching out beyond me on three sides and find no one else present. Just the wind blowing in my ears and the trees swaying merrily, waiting for the coming of the storm.
But my unease does not go away. Instead, it lingers with such persistence that I quickly wipe away the remainder of my tears and turn around to go back to the lodge. Standing out here in the open, I feel too…. exposed. Too vulnerable.
As I’m walking back, I look up at the sky and find that it is the only one mirroring my mood right now.
My only friend in despair, who understands what it’s like to be filled with a greyness so severe that even the sun’s light cannot pierce through it.
I see him then when I’m bringing my gaze back down from the heavens. Something within me, some instinct so deep-rooted it must be in my DNA, causes me to look at the windows of the lodgings’ rooms that can be seen from the outside.
And that’s when I spot him. His unmistakable form pressed against the glass, his undeniably arrogant face as beautiful and infuriating as ever, and his glacial eyes locked straight on me.
Tanner.
The moment I see him, I avert my gaze and curse silently. Shit! What is he doing here, spying on me?
And worst of all, what if he saw me crying?
What if he saw me in my moment of weakness?
Oh God, he’ll never let me see the end of it! The taunts will be endless, haunting me even on my deathbed.
What have I done?