Levi’s POV
An awkward silence hung in the air. Not the kind of silence that brought peace—but the heavy, suffocating kind that made your chest feel too tight and your thoughts too loud.
None of us spoke. None of us needed to. Ever since she arrived... we hadn’t been the same. We were all thinking it. All feeling it. But none of us wanted to say it out loud. She couldn’t be our second-chance mate. The universe couldn’t be that cruel. And yet, nothing else explained the pull. The way her scent made something in us calm, the way her eyes—haunted and too familiar—cut deeper than they should’ve. We hadn’t accepted the body we found as Olivia’s. We hadn’t fully let her go. And now, this woman... this stranger... she had stirred everything back up.
A knock broke the silence, and instinctively, we all looked up. We should’ve told whoever it was to go away. But when I caught the scent... and the voice followed, I changed my mind.
"It’s Dustin," came the voice from the other side.
"Come in," I said.
Dustin stepped inside, shutting the door quietly behind him.
"I have news," he announced.
We sat up straighter. For the first time in hours, maybe the whole day.
He continued, "Silas has been found. Our men tracked him down in South Korea. He’s being brought back as we speak. If all goes well, he’ll be here by tomorrow night."
A collective exhale escaped our lips.
Finally.
We were convinced he was paid, manipulated by someone who wanted to ruin everything between us and Olivia. And now, we’d get the truth out of him.
"Thank you, Dustin," I said, nodding.
But he didn’t leave. His expression told us he had something more to say.
"What else?" I asked.
"The funeral," he said quietly. "Preparations have started. I thought you’d want to know."
My chest tightened.
The word funeral still felt like poison in my mouth.
Lennox, voice low and hoarse, finally spoke. "Supervise everything for us. Please."
Dustin nodded and left the room.
The room went back to its usual quietness until another knock. This time, it was lighter. Softer.
A maid peeked through the door. "Dinner is ready, Alphas."
We were about to wave her off, like we had the past three nights. We hadn’t eaten. Couldn’t stomach the idea of food since Olivia’s... death.
But then the thought hit me.
She would be there.
Damien’s wife.
The woman who made my wolf stir. The woman whose eyes made my throat ache.
Lennox didn’t say anything. Neither did Louis. But we all stood.
We didn’t need to speak.
For the first time in three days—we were going to eat. Just to see her again.
When we entered the dining room, the sight that greeted us made something inside me twist.
There she was.
Sitting beside Damien.
Laughing softly—too softly—at something he said. He reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, smiling at her like she was his world.
She smiled back at him. And then her eyes... flicked to us. Just for a second.
And my heart stopped.
I sucked a deep breath and took my seat... wondering how just a look from this stranger could steal my breath away. I dragged my gaze away before it did something stupid to me.
"I’m so happy you all decided to come," Mother said from across the table, sounding genuinely pleased. "You need strength... especially now."
We all nodded slightly but said nothing. The food on our plates went untouched for a moment until I forced myself to take a bite. It didn’t taste like anything.
I wasn’t here for food anyway.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Damien take her hand, kissing her knuckles like they were in some damn romance novel. "I’m sorry, my love," he said softly, just loud enough for all of us to hear, "that we’re spending this time here instead of on our honeymoon. This wasn’t what I wanted for us."
Rebecca turned to him with a smile so sweet, so calm, it made me feel sick.
"Anywhere with you is where I want to be," she said gently, brushing her thumb across his hand. "We don’t need beaches and candles. I already have everything I need."
My fork clattered against the plate before I could stop it.
Lennox slammed his hand on the table suddenly, making everyone jump.
"We’re mourning," he snapped, his eyes locked on Damien and his wife. His voice wasn’t loud—but it was sharp. Raged. "This pack is mourning. If you want to flirt and play the happy couple, go back to your room. Don’t do it here."
The same thing that was choking me.
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