The Royal Blood of the Lycan Princess

Chapter 8 - Buried Pain

The rejection left me hollow, as if Nicolai had taken a part of me when he walked away. I tried to go on with my life, to sink back into the pack and pretend that everything was the same. But I wasn't the same. Something in me had changed, like a thread had snapped, one I couldn't untangle or repair no matter how hard I tried.

Days passed, blending into each other like the gray winter skies outside. I kept my head down, worked through my daily routines, and tried to ignore the ache that pulsed in my chest. But it was impossible to ignore Nicolai. He was everywhere. His scent lingered around the pack, and each time I saw him, his chosen mate was by his side, a cruel reminder that I wasn't enough.

One afternoon, I saw them together near the training grounds. She was laughing, her head thrown back, and he was looking at her in a way that once would have been meant for me. I froze, rooted in place, the air searing in my lungs. The pain hit me harder than I expected, piercing me like shards of glass, and I realized I couldn't do this anymore. I couldn't keep watching them, couldn't keep feeling this way every single day.

Back at the cabin, I started gathering my things, my hands trembling as I stuffed clothes and a few essentials into a worn bag. I didn't have much—a couple of outfits, a few keepsakes from my mom, and a tiny stack of cash I'd saved up over the years. It wasn't much, but it would be enough to get me far enough away, at least for a while. I didn't know where I was going, but it didn't matter. Anywhere would be better than here.

Just as I was zipping my bag, I heard a knock on the door, and my heart sank. I didn't need anyone trying to stop me, not now. I hesitated, hoping whoever it was would go away, but the knock came again, more insistent this time.

"Amelia?" It was Bea.

I sighed, taking a deep breath before opening the door. Bea's eyes fell immediately to the bag on the bed, and her expression shifted, a mix of shock and hurt flashing across her face. She stepped into the room, closing the door behind her with a soft click. "Amelia... are you leaving?" she whispered, her voice laced with disbelief.

I couldn't meet her gaze. "Bea, I... I can't stay here anymore. Every day, it's like a new wound, and I can't take it. I thought I could, but... seeing them together..." My voice cracked, and I blinked hard, refusing to let the tears fall. "I feel like I'm suffocating here. I need to get away."

Bea took a step closer, her hand reaching out to touch my arm. "Amelia, you don't have to do this alone. I know you're in pain, but leaving... going rogue? It's dangerous. You'd be leaving the pack, and without any of us to help you, you'd be exposed to all sorts of dangers."

I pulled my arm away, not angrily but firmly. "What dangers, Bea? I already feel like a ghost here, like I don't belong. No one looks at me the same since the rejection. Even Levi barely talks to me, and Nicolai..." I trailed off, swallowing the ache that flared in my chest. "Nicolai made his choice. I was just never meant to be a part of his world, and everyone knows it. They see me as... less."

"You're not less, Amelia," Bea said fiercely, her eyes flashing with a protective anger. "You're strong, even if you don't see it. And this pack is still your family. Think about your mother. She wouldn't want you to throw your life away like this."

The mention of my mother was like a slap, bringing me back to a memory I hadn't wanted to revisit. My mother's warmth, her gentle strength... She'd always told me that I was special, that I had something powerful within me. She'd believed in me when no one else did. But she was gone now, and I felt like I was just wandering in a shadow of who I used to be.

"I know my mom wouldn't want this," I whispered, my voice barely audible. "But she's not here to see what's happening. She's not here to feel this emptiness... this... this rejection. And I don't know how to live with it, Bea. It's like a weight I can't shake off."

Bea's expression softened, and she stepped closer, pulling me into a hug. I stiffened at first, but then I let myself melt into her embrace, letting her warmth and the strength of her arms hold me together when I felt like I might shatter. We stayed like that for a long moment, her hand running soothingly over my hair.

After a while, she pulled back and looked at me with a determined glint in her eyes. "If you're serious about leaving, I can't stop you. But I don't think you should do it now. Not when you're still healing and not when you're not ready. Take some time, Amelia. Give yourself a chance to grow stronger. And if, after that, you still want to go, I'll help you, no questions asked. I promise."

Her words hit me harder than I expected, grounding me in a way I hadn't felt in a long time. I nodded, my throat too tight to speak. Bea was right. Running away now would be running from my pain, not facing it. But the idea of staying felt like a prison, like I was signing myself up for a lifetime of watching Nicolai's happiness with someone else.

"I... I'll stay for now," I finally managed to say, my voice hoarse. "But I don't know how much longer I can keep pretending like I'm okay."

Bea's face softened with understanding, and she squeezed my hand. "You don't have to pretend. Not with me. Let yourself feel, Amelia. Let yourself hurt, and when you're ready... we'll figure out what comes next."

A tear finally slipped down my cheek, and I didn't bother wiping it away. For the first time in weeks, I let myself feel the pain fully, without trying to hide it or bury it. And somehow, letting myself hurt in front of Bea made it a little easier to bear.

She stayed with me for the rest of the night, talking softly, sharing stories, and reminding me of the good moments we'd shared, of my mother's wisdom and strength. When she left, I lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling, my heart feeling both heavier and lighter.

I didn't know what the future held or if I would ever heal completely. But for now, I wasn't alone. Bea had reminded me that I had someone who cared, who saw me for who I was, not for the rejection that marked me. And maybe, just maybe, that was enough to get me through another day.