Chapter 6

ELORA'S POV “You didn't tell me she was already here.” Those were the first words that came out of my mouth the minute I stepped into Queens Academy and saw her. Maya. Sitting comfortably on one of the chairs with one leg crossed over the other like she owned the damn place. As though her presence alone wasn't a knife plunged into my chest. She turned around slowly, her lips curled up with an all too familiar smirk. Her features, her dark sleek hair, and those confident eyes hadn't changed a bit. Lucas stood beside the whiteboard, looking genuinely stunned. “Elora, I…I didn't know she was already scheduled for today. My assistant is in charge of all that. Her appointment got pushed forward last minute.” I could barely hear him. My gaze was locked on Maya, and all I could feel was the heat climbing up my neck. My wolf was begging to let out and deal with the bitch. Then all of a sudden, she stood. “Hello, sister,” she casually said, like she hadn't ripped my life apart. Lucas turned to me with a confused look. “Wait…You two know each other?” I tore my eyes from her, forcing myself to breathe. My voice came out tighter than I wanted. “She's my father’s daughter, my half-sister, Maya.” I spat out. Lucas' eyes widened. “Maya?” She didn't even flinch. She took it all in, brushing non-existent dirt from her blouse. “I didn't know, Elora. I swear to God. I didn't. If I had….” Lucas knew quite a bit about the bad blood between Maya and I, but not all the details. And this happens to be the first time he's seeing her. I raise a hand to stop him. “I'm not blaming you, Lucas. But if I am working here. I can't work with her.” He nodded quickly, his eyes darting between us. “Understood. Okay. Maybe we can split your shifts. You can come in on different days. Or maybe I assign you both to different departments. Maya can work on casual wear and you can take over the bridal line.” I didn't respond right away. The silence stretched as I weighed the options. My stomach twisted at the thought of breathing the same air as her. Even if our paths didn't cross physically, I'd still see her fingerprints everywhere. “I’II think about it.” I said at last. Maya said nothing, not until I stepped out and she followed behind. “You're not going to ask about your daughter?” I froze. That voice, that tone—as if she had the right. I turned back slowly, my nails digging into my palm. News travelled fast, as soon as Lucian knew Maya was his fated mate, he made sure she moved out of our pack house in Moonhaven and right into Erelis pack. She took over everything that concerns my daughter ever since then. “Don't ever talk about my daughter.” Maya lifted her chin. “It's been three years, Elora. You don't want to know how Nora’s doing?” My blood boils. “You don't get to say her name,” I said quietly. “You don't get to pretend to care about what I lost.” Maya took a step forward, her arms crossed over her chest, her expression softening. But not in a way that felt real. “She misses you. Not that she says it. She's proud. But I know she does.” “You're not her mother, Maya. Don't speak like you know her.” “No. But I'm the one she calls ‘mama,” she shot back. “And I'm the one that stayed.” That broke something in me. “You stayed because you wormed your way into Lucian's life. You stayed because you were handed everything while I was pushed out with nothing.” Her brows lifted. “Oh please. Don't pretend you were ever some innocent victim. You married him because you wanted the title, Elora. Not because you loved him.” “Don't you dare speak about what I felt. You wouldn't know love even if it bled for you. You showed up and he dropped everything for you. His promises for me. The vows he made, and a life as the mother of his child and his Luna.” She flinched then, but only slightly. That wasn't my fault.” “But you stayed. I whispered. “You know what you were doing. And you let Nora watch it all. You let her believe I abandoned her.” “She needed stability. I gave her that.” “You gave her confusion, Maya. You fed her with lies. You let her grow up without her mother for years.” We stood at the entrance of that room, the buzz of sewing machines could be heard in the background. Lucas already got busy with something else. Maya looked like everything I used to want to be. But she will never be what I am. “Stay away from me,” I warned “Stay away from my daughter. You don't get to use her to twist the knife.” I walked out without another word. I didn't want to cry. Not then. I managed to get it together until I got home. But the second I closed the door behind me and dropped my bag, everything spilled out. My leg gave away and I sank to the floor, my back pressed against the wall like It was the only thing holding me together. My chest ached like someone had taken a fistful of everything inside and squeezed until it burst. I didn't sob loudly, just the kind of broken cry that comes out in gasps. I covered my mouth, hating the sound of myself unraveling. Why now? Why did Maya have to show up here—again—in my life? And why does it still hurt so much after all these years? I didn't even hear Selene come in. The moment her hands wrapped around me from the side, I jumped. “Elora,” she whispered. “What's wrong? You should've called me.” I couldn't even answer her, I just turned to her and let myself fall apart. She held me like a sister would, stroking my hair as I shook in her arm. “She was there,” I finally choked out. “She was working with Lucas.” Sslene pulled back enough to see my face. “Who? Maya?” I nodded. Her mouth pressed into a thin line, then she brushed the tears from my cheeks. “You don't have to be strong right now. It's okay to fall apart. Just let it out.” “She talked about Nora. Like she has any right.” I sniffled. Selene didn't say a word to that. She just held me tighter, rocking me slightly like I was a child again. And for a while, I let her. She pulled back and looked at me.“Now let me get us something to eat, okay? I'd be right back.” I simply nodded. But later that night, alone in my room, I opened Nora’s old photo album. The ones with pictures of her as a baby. The one with her first steps, the one with her third birthday, the one we wore matching dresses. I pressed my hand to the page and whispered into the silence.”I'm coming back for you, baby. Whether they want me or not. And if this world has no space for a woman like me, then I'd carve one out myself.