Chapter 5 CHAPTER FIVE

JULIET

I sighed for the third time that evening, watching Frank cut into his steak with short, clipped movements. He hadn't spoken a word to me since we got home, and I knew it had everything to do with Zane's presence in the pack. An uneasy silence stretched between us as we ate, and the knot of guilt in my stomach tightened with every passing minute.

It was my fault. I should never have asked Zane to stay the night. But how could I let the Alpha, who answered our distress call, leave without even offering him shelter? He and his warriors had risked their lives for us and remained behind to help transport our wounded packmates to the clinic before finally making camp near the woods.

I knew Frank was furious, but I needed him to understand why I had made that decision.

Before I could reach across the table for his hand, my mother-in-law, Madeline, set her fork down with a soft clink.

"Tonight's food lacked salt as usual," she complained, her voice flat. "I take it that you have been skipping your culinary classes again?"

My hand slowly fell on the table as I faced my mother-in-law with a guilty expression. A few months after Frank and I got married, she had enrolled me in a culinary program at one of the finest restaurants in town, determined to help me become a better cook and learn a wider variety of dishes.

I had been attending each class dutifully until... "There have been a lot of patients this month, and we had a rogue wolf attack today," I tried to explain. "As pack healer, I cannot neglect my duties—"

"What about your duties as a Luna?" Madeline interjected sharply, her tone cutting like a knife. "Do you know that you are supposed to host social events and strengthen pack unity while your husband handles the security affairs?"

Her words settled heavily in my chest, leaving me with no defense at all.

My sister-in-law, Esther, clicked her tongue before drinking her wine, as if to cleanse her palate of the bland food.

"Annabella cooked better than this, brother," she remarked coolly. "You should have listened to us when you had the chance." 

Esther's words lingered long after she had finished speaking.

My fingers curled tightly beneath the tablecloth as I struggled to steady my breathing. It was not the first time she had compared me to Annabella, and somehow it never became easier to hear.

Because a part of me believed she was right.

Two years ago, after I confessed that Zane was my mate, the entire pack had looked at me as though I carried a curse. No one wanted anything to do with the healer foolish enough to be fated to a rogue wolf. Whispers had followed me through every street, and my friends slowly drifted away, afraid that standing beside me would stain their own reputations.

Frank had been the only one who reached out his hand.

He was nice to me when no one else was. 

He married me to protect me from becoming an outcast, and in return, I had promised myself that I would become the Luna he deserved. I attended every diplomatic gathering despite spending sleepless nights treating injured pack members. I learned proper etiquette, forced smiles through exhausting ceremonies, and accepted Madeline's endless lessons because I wanted this family to be proud of choosing me.

Apparently, none of it had been enough.

Slowly, I lifted my eyes to Frank. His jaw tightened for a brief second before he calmly reached for his wineglass.

"I'll have the standby chef prepare your favorite dessert, Mother," he said evenly. "There's no reason for you to force yourself to eat something you don't enjoy."

Madeline's expression softened into approval.

"That is much better, Franklin," she replied with a satisfied smile. "Thank you."

No one looked at me after she spoke.  I sat there in silence, swallowing around the lump that had settled in my throat.

I lowered my gaze before anyone could see the tears gathering in my eyes. 

"I'll... clear the table."

Neither of them stopped me.

I gathered the plates one by one, carefully stacking them in my trembling hands. The familiar clatter of porcelain filled the dining room as I forced my legs to carry me toward the kitchen with what little dignity I had left.

The moment the kitchen door swung shut behind me, the mask shattered.

A broken sob escaped my lips before I could swallow it back. The plates rattled violently against one another as tears spilled freely down my cheeks, one after another, refusing to stop no matter how desperately I wiped them away. My vision blurred until I could barely see the sink in front of me.

I had given everything I had to this family.

Yet somehow...

I still felt that I was not enough.

The standby chef passed me with a sympathetic look as he walked towards the dining room, carrying two plates of almond olive oil cakes. His presence finally registered in my mind, causing me to wipe my tears with the back of my hand like a child. I quickly wiped my face with the back of my hand, suddenly embarrassed that the kitchen staff had seen me break down.

After splashing cold water onto my tear-stained face, I headed towards the door when it suddenly creaked open. The chef poked his head through the gap, his eyes scanning the room until they landed on me.

"Mrs. Donahue, you have been summoned," he said, his voice carrying a hint of apology. "Your husband wishes to speak with you upstairs."

I blinked, unsure of why Frank wanted to talk. "Did he say what it was about?"

The chef shook his head.

Letting out a soft exhale, I walked towards the door. 

"I'll go see him," I said.

The chef appeared hesitant as he asked, "Would you like dessert before you turn in for the night?"

"No, Luigi," I replied with a gentle smile as I began ascending the stairs. "You can go home now. Good night."

He tipped his hat in silent farewell before walking away, leaving me alone with the growing knot of anxiety in my chest as I climbed the stairs toward whatever awaited me behind our bedroom door.