Chapter
One
Lana
My footsteps echoed sharply through the silent halls. The house was too fucking quiet… again.
It didn’t used to be like this. Once, this place was alive. A packhouse full of noise, warmth, and men I called family. We had future plans. We even talked about adopting a dog.
Now, it was hollow, the echoes of our life together louder than their absence.
Grief settled sharp and sudden in my chest. I missed them. More than they deserved.
The laughter, the shouting, the camaraderie. All the things that made our messy life together a bit more perfect.
They were nothing but ghosts now.
Fever pulled at my senses, my skin already too hot and uncomfortable. My omega stirred, her anxiety feeding mine until it was almost unbearable. Tears burned in my eyes, but I didn’t let them fall. I couldn’t break yet.
Not because I was shielding the pack from what I was going through; I simply refused to cry for them again.
Our bond was too thin now, nearly nonexistent. They left me behind.
Fuck hockey players and their egos.
Never again.
As I stumbled down the hallway, my eyes slipped over each door of the packhouse. Silence greeted me behind every single one. Not even their scents lingered anymore.
This was the house we built together. The one they promised we’d live in and make a home out of. I protested that it was far too big, but they’d reassured me it would be perfect.
They were always doing that, talking me down until I gave in, explaining why their opinions were right. Was there ever really space for me in their lives, or was I just a prize to be won? The hockey princess they were able to gloat about in their circles but they didn’t really care about.
I hadn’t seen my pack in months. Every text went unanswered. Calls ignored. Returned calls cut off swiftly because someone needed them.
It felt like they didn’t even want to talk to me anymore.
What changed, other than getting bumped to the starting lineup? We should have been celebrating their success together.
My throat ached as I bit back fresh sobs. I stumbled farther into the house, toward the nest that no longer felt like mine.
I was so damn tired.
Tired of being alone.
Tired of wishing they’d show up.
Tired of the false excuses.
There was no comfort to be found here as my heat tightened its grip. Letting it go this long was solely on me. I should have taken suppressants when they didn’t return my call the first few days leading up to it.
I guess this was my one last attempt at proving they cared. Their answer was loud and clear.
If I make it out of this week alive… it’s over.
Forever.
I don’t believe in second chances.
