The Wolf Who Loved Too Late

The hall erupted in gasps, and my heart lurched, a chill shooting from my toes to my chest. I knew Delilah was hopeless at running the estate, but this?

This was beyond reckless.

Her face went pale as snow, her delicate fingers twisting her handkerchief, panic flickering in her eyes. But she recovered fast, her voice trembling as she pointed the finger. "It-it was Helena's doing! I told her this morning to switch it out."

Every eye in the room turned on me, sharp as arrows.

Heat surged to my face, and I shot to my feet, my voice cold but steady. "It wasn't me. Days ago, I handed over all household duties to Delilah."

The hall buzzed with shock, whispers rippling through the crowd. Everyone glanced at each other, unsure who to believe, until their gazes settled on Grant, waiting for his verdict.

His eyes lingered on Delilah's trembling hands for a moment. Then, after a heavy pause, he spoke. "Helena prepared it. Probably. a mistake. I apologize on her behalf."

His words hit like a sledgehammer, pinning all the blame on me without a shred of mercy.

Murmurs rose, cutting like knives.

"Heard she's Argentum Town's finest she-wolf-music, art, you name it. But to mess up like this? No class at all."

"Seriously," another voice sneered. "Screwing up something this important? How's she supposed to be the pack's leading she-wolf?"

"She plays the poised, virtuous part in public, but pulls dirty tricks like this and blames others. Disgusting."

The venomous words sliced into me, each one a fresh wound. I gripped my sleeves, ready to fire back, but Grant's hand clamped around my wrist, hard enough to bruise. He dragged me out of the banquet hall, his voice icy. "This is settled. Don't make it worse."

I yanked my arm free, fury blazing in my eyes. "Settled? By letting me take the fall for Delilah?"

His brow furrowed. "You're the estate's she-wolf. Can't you handle a little responsibility?"

"Why is it always me who has to handle it?" My voice shook with anger, tears of frustration burning behind my eyes. "Why do you always take her side?"

"Yes." His answer was sharp, unflinching, his gaze cold. "You've always known I care for her. I won't let her get hurt."

His words were a dagger, plunging straight into my heart.

Memories flooded back-me, sick in bed, still sorting through grain reports and military dispatches for him, my eyes bloodshot from sleepless nights.

Sewing his battle cloak, my fingers bleeding from needle pricks, never stopping. Planning his birthday feast down to the last detail, from the food to the decorations, pouring every ounce of myself into it.

All of it, worth less to him than a single tear from Delilah.

A hollow laugh escaped me, bitter and broken. "Fine. Perfect."

I turned and walked to the carriage, not sparing him another glance.

On the ride back, Delilah sniffled softly. "Helena, I didn't mean it. I was just so scared."

Grant sat beside her, one hand rubbing her back, the other holding her hand. "Don't worry, no one's blaming you."

I leaned against the window, watching their little show, disgust curling in my gut.

Suddenly, the horses let out a panicked whinny, rearing up. The carriage lurched violently, and I was thrown against the opposite wall.

Delilah's scream pierced the air.

Grant lunged, wrapping her in his arms, shielding her as he leaped from the carriage. I had no one to catch me. The force flung me out, my forehead slamming into a roadside rock. Blood poured, blurring my vision.

I curled up, ribs screaming like they'd snapped, my insides twisted. Through the haze, I saw Grant in the distance, cradling Delilah, whispering soft reassurances. He didn't even look my way.

When I woke, my body felt like it'd been run over by a truck.

Nora was sobbing, dabbing salve on my wounds. "Helena. they're too much!"

I patted her hand weakly. "Just a little longer. then I can go home."

Before I could finish, the door flew open.

Grant stormed in, his dark cloak dusted with unmelted snow, his eyes like a winter storm. "Home?" His voice was low, each word deliberate. "Helena, what's that supposed to mean?"