---- Chapter 8 Elara POV: The world outside the pack lands felt jarringly normal. Humans bustled along the city sidewalks, oblivious to the ancient, savage world that existed in parallel to their own. | walked into the sleek, modern office building that housed the art magazine where | worked, a place that had once been my refuge. My boss, a kind human woman named Clara, looked up in surprise when | entered her office. "Elara! What a surprise! | thought you'd be taking leave soon," she said with a warm smile. "How is the little one? And how is Mr. Damien?" "Damien and | are no longer together," | said, the words tasting like ash in my mouth. | placed my resignation letter on her desk. "And | prefer to be called Elara." Clara's smile faltered. She blinked, confused. "Separated? But ... you two were perfect. | remember when he used to pick you up every single day. He'd park that ridiculously expensive car out front and just wait, smiling like a fool, for you to come out. He adored you." A bitter pang went through me. She was right. He had. Once. ---- Before Lyra. Before his ambition and ego had consumed the man | thought | knew. "How long ago was that, Clara?" | asked, my voice soft. She frowned, thinking back. "Well... | suppose... it has been a while, hasn't it? | haven't seen him around here in months." Of course she hadn't. For months, his car had been parked outside the Alpha house. For months, his time, his attention, his very scent, had been devoted to another woman. He had been waiting, but not for me. "I'm going away, Clara," | said, forcing a small smile. "Back to my family. They're waiting for me." She looked at my belly, then back at my face, her human eyes filled with a sympathy | could no longer afford to feel for myself. "I'm so sorry, Elara. Whatever happened, | hope you find peace." | hoped so too. But | knew peace was a luxury | wouldn't have for a long time. First, | had to burn the bridges Damien had forced me to build for him.