3. Argument

Chapter 3: Accusation

Two god-damned weeks. That was how long it had been since Annatoria last saw Radolf. Two weeks of sleepless nights, battling the crushing pain in her chest every time their mate bond pulled—reminding her of the women he took to his bed. Two weeks of biting down on her emotions, pretending she wasn’t shattered, pretending she didn’t care. Pretending to be the strongest woman who cared less about the man who hurt her most, was the hardest to do. Memories of him didn't leave her head, even though she wanted them to.

Radolf had left without a word after she caught him with Candace, one of the pack’s maids. The remorse she expected from him, was no where to be found. After all, she hadn't seen him since then.

Annatoria hadn’t confronted him except for the night he walked into the room she was, with her son Ernoulf.

What was the point? Every attempt to address his infidelity ended the same—with his icy indifference and her own tears. She had stopped crying a long time ago, but the emotional scars he left behind cut deeper than ever. Deeper than any wound she's ever had.

Gone was the man she once loved, the Alpha she had been proud to stand beside. Since her parents’ deaths, Radolf had changed. His sweet words and gentle touch had turned cold and cruel. Perhaps it was because he knew she had no one left. Perhaps it was because he enjoyed the power of breaking her down.

Annatoria paced her office, her fingers clenching into fists. The walls of the pack house, once a symbol of her family’s legacy, now felt like a prison. Her wolf stirred uneasily, sensing her turmoil.

A knock broke through her thoughts.

“Luna, may I come in?” a soft voice called from the other side.

Annatoria hesitated. It sounded like Candace. The audacity of the woman to face her after sharing Radolf’s bed made her stomach churn.

“Wait,” she said, her voice hoarse. Hastily, she wiped away the tears that threatened to spill.

Before she could gather herself, a furious roar echoed through the hallway.

“Where is she?!”

Heavy footsteps approached, each one reverberating like thunder. The door burst open, and Radolf stormed in, his crimson eyes blazing with anger. His imposing frame filled the room, the tension suffocating. The air thickened as he stared at her in disgust and annoyance.

“What is it now?” Annatoria asked, forcing herself to remain calm, trying not to remember that he owed her an explanation for disappearing for 2 weeks.

Radolf’s lips curled into a sneer. “You dare ask me that, you orphan?”

Her heart clenched at the word. Orphan!. The reminder of her parents’ deaths still stung, but hearing it from him—her mate—was unbearable. She closed her eyes as though, she was squeezing the pain out of it.

“Don’t you dare—” she started, but her words were cut off by the sharp sting of his hand connecting with her cheek.

The slap echoed in the room, silencing everything. Her wolf surged forward, rage coursing through her veins.

“You cheating bastard,” she growled, her voice a low, guttural snarl. Her wolf instincts took over, and her eyes glowed with an unnatural light.

Radolf took a step back, momentarily stunned by the transformation. For the first time, she saw fear flicker in his gaze, but it was quickly replaced by anger. Never did he imagine she could go wild at him. He deserved it and the most annoying part being that he came ranting.

“You think you can intimidate me?” he spat. “You’re nothing but a disgrace to this pack.”

Annatoria’s wolf howled, demanding to pounce on the terrible womanizer who had no remorse, but Annatoria resisted. With a Herculean effort, she forced herself to shift back to her human form. She stood before him, naked and vulnerable, yet her gaze burned with defiance.

“You have no right to treat me like this,” she said, her voice trembling with controlled fury.

There was that part of her again ....that part that thinks Radolf would change.

Radolf’s hand shot out again, but this time she caught his wrist, her strength surprising even herself.

"Radolf don't you dare" She yelled at him.

“Guards!” he bellowed, his voice echoing through the halls, his hand hung in the air.

Within moments, six Lycans stormed into the room. Annatoria didn’t struggle as one of them handed her a robe, which she wrapped around herself.

“Take her to the council room,” Radolf commanded, his tone icy and final. The council room is the room where all the elders of the pack gather, to debate affairs.

Annatoria’s heart sank. “Radolf,” she tried to mind-link him, but he blocked her out. She stared at him, silently pleading for an explanation, but he didn’t meet her gaze.

As the guards dragged her out of the room, her eyes caught Loreen’s figure entering the hallway, luggage in hand.

“Loreen,” Annatoria gasped, her voice cracking.

Her best friend hesitated, her gaze flickering between Annatoria and Radolf. She didn’t say a word, didn’t ask what was happening.

Annatoria’s wolf growled lowly. “To be saved until I get back,” it whispered.

The guards pulled her through the pack house, past curious stares and whispers. Annatoria’s mind raced as dread settled in her chest. Something was wrong—terribly wrong.

She never did anything to warrant going to the council room. It was only a heated argument without a discussed reason that happened between she and her husband.

"Is it an apology prank?" She wondered, as she walked to the council room. She walked slowly, but her mind was far away from where she was.

She tried so hard to think of all the reasons he had to send her to the "council room", why he had the guards walk in on her being naked. Well, since it's a normal thing among wolves, she didn't bother being naked.