CHAPTER 188: WHAT ARE YOU HIDING FROM ME?

[ Bloodfang territories ]

"...And the third battalion has restocked their silver tipped rounds. Archer unit has received their cloaking gear," one of Velor’s Betas finished, eyes darting to Niva for approval.

She nodded wordlessly, eyes scanning the neat stack of supply documents before her. The bold seal of the Blackfang pack stamped across each line reminded her just how much responsibility had landed on her shoulders in Velor’s absence.But it wasn’t like she hadn’t done it before... she did take his place when he went on missions... not chasing another man’s mate... even prepared to wage war with the Old world for her sake... this was slowly settling over her... maybe not... maybe she sensed it before... and that’s why coaxed Keiran to join him.

"Approve it," she said quietly, signing the last document with a firm stroke. "Keep every squadron on high alert. No one moves until Alpha Velor gives direct orders, or until I say otherwise."

The Betas exchanged brief nods. One of them ventured a soft remark. "You are holding things down better than anyone else could, Luna."

She didn’t reply...just gave a short nod, dismissing them with a flick of her fingers.

The room emptied. Silence dropped in like a curtain.

Her fingers lingered on the edge of the table for a second too long, the weight of the pen suddenly felt heavy. The pressure behind her temples started to pulse again.

She rose from her seat and left the room in brisk strides, a long cloak trailing after her like spilled ink. Instead of turning towards her own chambers, her steps hesitated...

The private bar came into view...her steps turned....

It was tucked into a quiet corner of the West Wing...usually used for informal receptions or Velor’s private nights. Today, it was empty. The overhead chandelier flickered as she stepped in.

She poured herself a drink.

Just one.

She told herself that.

The golden liquid sloshed into the glass. She stared at it for a moment...almost contemplative...before downing it in one clean shot.

"Just one more," she whispered.

But then there was another. And another.

By the time she left the bar, a half drained bottle swung from her hand.

And then her feet stumbled straight towards Velor’s room.

The door creaked as she pushed it open. Her boots hit the edge of the rug and she lost her balance for a moment, hand bracing against the wall as she laughed softly to herself.

"Stupid rug," she mumbled, kicking at it aimlessly.

She shut the door behind her...locking it...and staggered forward.

Niva sat on the edge of the bed, dragging one of the pillows into her lap.

"Why’d you have to look at me like that..." she muttered into the feathered fabric. "Why do you always look like that?"

Her hand reached for the bottle again. Another swig. Then, she hurled one of the smaller cushions at the wall. It bounced off harmlessly.

"When was the last time you kissed me for myself... bastard?" She murmured. "Do you know how insane that makes someone?"

She hiccupped and laughed. Then stood up, walking over to the vase on the window ledge.

"I am not mad," she said, almost sincerely, as her fingers plucked a white petal from one of the fresh lilies. "I just... I am just so... stimulated..."

She pulled another petal.

"...so tired of wanting you all for myself..."

Then she dropped the whole flower, letting it tumble to the floor.

The vase followed a second later, toppling over with a clink against the wood. It didn’t break...just rolled away slowly.

She leaned her forehead against the glass window. The night outside was misty,too quiet.

"I loved you," she whispered. "No, I love you. You stupid, clueless...emotionally stunted Alpha."

A laugh bubbled out again, but this one cracked midway.

She wiped at her eyes aggressively, annoyed that there were no tears...just a hot, dry ache.

"...Ahhh...And I am still here," she muttered. "Still waiting... like a fool."

She slid down against the wall, curling up with the bottle beside the bed, her voice quieter now. "Still choosing you... even when you never chose me the same way..."

The room stayed quiet. And then...

She lay still on the floor, somewhere between exhaustion and drunken haze. Velor’s scent enveloped her as she drifted off...not quite asleep, but far from awake.

Waiting... drunk...

"All of them... acting like it’s business as usual."

She grabbed the nearest thing in reach...a tall porcelain vase this time...and flung it at the fireplace. It shattered against the stone with a dull crack.

"Stop telling me to hold the fort for you, will you?" she huffed, staggering towards the bed.

"Velor..." she murmured, her eyes glassy. "Why does everything have to be so hard with you?"

"Damn it, Velor," she whispered, pressing her knuckles to her mouth. "Why couldn’t you just love me back like a normal person?"

She pulled a pillow to her chest and flung the others across the room in a fit of frustration. One knocked over a lamp. She didn’t care. Let it all fall.

"Everyone talks about your strategy, your politics...your strength..." she spat bitterly, hugging the pillow tighter. "But none of them know how good you are at running away."

Her voice cracked.

"You left me to handle it all again," she said, quieter now.

Her head rolled back against the headboard. She was still in her outer garments...jacket half undone, hair a mess, shoes and makeup still on...

Her fingers clenched in the fabric of his pillow. "If only... if only I meant even half to you... of what you mean to me."

Her eyes burned, but still, no tears fell. She wasn’t sure what kind of drought this was.

She turned on her side, curling into a fetal position.

"This bed... was supposed to be ours," she whispered. "This life... was supposed to be just ours."

Silence answered her.

Only the fire crackled softly in the hearth.

She stared at the flame through the strands of her hair, her thoughts slurred and tangled.

Maybe she’d sleep here tonight.

Maybe in the morning, she would feel stronger.

... she let herself sink into his lingering scent, into the warmth of a bed that no longer felt like home.

"Velor..." she whispered with trouble. "Come home...please..."

She tossed. Turned. Sat up. Stared at the ceiling. The fire. The shadows creeping along the walls.

But she couldn’t sleep at all... not even with the drink...

She buried her face in his pillow again, inhaling. But it didn’t help with the sleep either.

It only deepened the ache...that damn hollow ache that had taken residence in her chest for years.

She kicked off her boots, letting one drop with a thud to the floor. Her fingers clawed at the bedspread as if trying to reshape the room. A part of her wanted to set the whole place on fire, just to see if it would burn with the same quiet fury she carried in her bones.

She stumbled upright again, pacing aimlessly. She knocked over a small decorative chest. Pulled open drawers she knew held nothing but spare cuffs and maps.

And then... click...

She heard an unmistakable faint sound.

She froze.

Her heel had caught the corner of a wooden floor panel near the bed. No... not the floor. The bedframe. Something gave way behind the carved leg at the foot of it.

Niva crouched down, brushing her hair away from her face. Her fingers ran along the ornate woodwork... there. A small panel. Barely visible. Almost like...A disguised compartment.

Her brows furrowed. She didn’t remember seeing this one... ever...

She pressed the socket again.

Click.

A thin sliver of wood shifted. With a low mechanical hum, a hidden drawer eased out from beneath the bed.

Niva stared, lips parting.

"What the hell...?" she whispered.

Inside was a box.

Not large. But elegant. Decorative looking. Its surface was obsidian black, etched with swirling lines of bright crimson. And resting on top of it, held in a perfect indentation,was a key.

Her hands trembled slightly as she reached for it.

The key was old. Ancient, maybe. Its metal was darkened by time...and faint glowing runes curled down its stem...they still pulsed with residual magic... active.

Niva had the keys to all the treasuries and arsenals.

"Velor," she breathed, lifting the key slowly. "What the hell are you hiding from me?"

She placed the box gently on the bed and sat cross legged in front of it. Her pulse beat steadily in her ears as she turned it over, studying every inch.

" What was this thing...In his room?

A knot twisted in her stomach. She had access to the fortress’s every vault, every cache. And yet she had never seen this key.

Never...

What was so important...so dangerous...that Velor kept it hidden even from her?

She swallowed hard, fingers ghosting over the runes again. They thrummed faintly beneath her skin. Warm.

And then...something brushed her finger.

A flutter.

Her breath hitched.

She glanced down to see a thin leather parchment had slipped from beneath the box, partially unrolled, as though dislodged by the movement.

Slowly, cautiously, she pulled it free.

It looked... quite old. The edges were brittle. Ink faded, but unmistakably Velor’s hand writing...

Her chest tightened.

"What is this?" she whispered.

But before she could unroll it... she controlled herself and paused...

"Sooo...You are also keeping secrets from me now, Velor?"