I arrived before the Hawthorne family mansion, the heart of the Ironwood Pack’s territory, at 11:40 a.m. The scent of pine and damp earth filled my lungs, a fragrance that was once a comfort and was now just an unwelcome reminder of all I had lost. This place had been a second home to me, but now, every visit felt like trespassing. The pack’s steward, a broad-shouldered werewolf, saw me on the doorstep and his eyes widened in alarm. "Luke… Prima Hannah," he stammered, his gaze darting about as if expecting an ambush. He clearly knew someone was expected today, but it obviously wasn't me. Beads of sweat were already forming on his brow. In the insular world of the wolves, our civil marriage was a dirty little secret. The certificate was tucked away like a shameful liability, its existence known only to our parents, Deputy James, and a few other members of the inner circle. In this world, a union meant nothing without a formal mating ceremony. For eight years, I had been an oddity: the barely tolerated human woman. Every time I attended a pack gathering, the sideways glances and hushed whispers delivered the same message: you are an outsider who can be discarded at any moment. "Please... follow me," the steward mumbled, leading the way with the reluctance of a man walking to the gallows. We hadn't even reached the foyer when a sickeningly sweet voice drifted from the living room, laced with coy laughter. "I win again! Ethan, are you going easy on me?" My feet stopped dead. For three seconds, my mind was a hollow void, and then all the pieces clicked into place with brutal clarity. This was his "business trip." This was why he’d cancelled our weekend plans. A cold, sharp laugh escaped my lips as I forced myself to walk forward. When Ethan looked up and saw me, his eyes widened in shock. "What are you doing here?" he snapped, his tone as sharp as a blade. "Your mother invited me," I said, my voice dripping with ice. "But that's a good question. Shouldn't you be in Hong Kong? I didn't realize you’d developed the ability to teleport." His eyelashes fluttered, a telltale sign of guilt I had come to know intimately over the years. The she-wolf from the Crimson Pack seated on the couch—Cindy Wallace—rose and sauntered toward me, deliberately extending a hand. The air in the room was thick with her scent mingled with Ethan's, a cloying perfume that made my stomach churn. "Hi! I’m Cindy," she chirped, flashing a smile that was all teeth and predatory intent. I didn't even glance at her outstretched hand. In the pack hierarchy, human or not, I was still the nominal Prima of the Ironwood Pack. A title, perhaps, but one that meant I didn't have to stoop to her level. Just then, as if on cue, Helen Green, the Ironwood Pack’s elder Prima, appeared in the doorway. She gave Cindy a warm, affectionate greeting before her gaze fell on me, her eyes sweeping over my form as if I were something she’d found stuck to the bottom of her shoe. "So glad you could make it, dear," she said to Cindy, her voice sweet as honey. Then she turned to me, her tone instantly frosting over. "This is a manager from our company, Hannah. She's here to discuss work." Everyone in the room knew exactly who I was, but she had deliberately reduced me to a mere employee. It was her public declaration: for the impending union of Ethan and Cindy, his human wife wasn't even a speed bump on the road. Cindy lifted her chin, a smug smirk playing on her lips. "Oh, so she's just an employee." Every word was a wolf marking its territory. I ignored them both, my eyes locked on Ethan. I wanted to see his reaction. Would he defend me? Would he, for once, acknowledge our marriage? But his face was as cold and hard as marble. He didn't so much as flinch as his mother publicly humiliated me. He didn't care. "Prima Helen," I said, meeting her gaze directly while keeping my voice steady. "Since you went to the trouble of inviting me here, why don't you just say what you want to talk about?" "Some other time," she dismissed me with an arrogant wave, as if shooing away a fly. "Since you're here, you might as well stay for lunch." She didn’t even bother to look at me, her words a careless brush-off. "Thank you, but I have other plans." A dull ache pulsed in my chest, but I kept my spine straight as I turned to leave. For eight years, I had perfected the art of pretending their contempt didn't touch me. "When an elder invites you to eat, you stay. What is this attitude? You have no manners whatsoever," Helen Green snapped at my back, her voice dripping with disdain. I stopped. Twenty days, I thought. Just twenty more days until I could file the divorce papers. What was another twenty days of humiliation? "Fine. I'll stay," I said, turning back to meet her venomous stare with a sneer of my own. I walked straight to the dining table and took a seat at the far end. But Helen had no intention of letting me off that easily. She surveyed the room proudly, then her eyes landed on me. "Why don't you make yourself useful, Hannah? Pour tea for everyone." A few snickers rippled through the room. My hands clenched into fists beneath the table. This was her true aim. Forcing me to serve them like a waitress was a deliberate, public stripping of my status. "What, you won't even do that much?" she scoffed. "Humans. Utterly useless. They don't even know the most basic etiquette." Slowly, I stood. I picked up the heavy porcelain teapot and, with a saccharine smile plastered on my face, I walked over to her. To everyone's utter shock, I tilted the pot and poured the steaming hot tea directly over her perfectly coiffed hair. "I am so sorry, Prima Helen," I said, my voice impossibly sweet as I set the teapot down. "My clumsy human hands. I do hope you enjoyed the tea." The dining room fell into a dead, dripping silence, broken only by the sound of tea trickling down Helen’s stunned face.

Chapter 4: An Unwelcome Return