The sound of my name pierced me. At last, I had what I had longed for, my mate’s voice, clear and sharp.
But not as I dreamed it. Not with love. Not with devotion.
His golden eyes meet mine. For a heartbeat, guilt flickered there, raw, unguarded. But in an instant, it was gone, replaced with that cold, calculating indifference he wore like armor.
His lips curved, smooth and dismissive.
“Why are you so flustered, Ram? She’s deaf. Even if you shouted in her ear, she wouldn’t hear a word.”
The words… The lie rang louder than any sound I had ever known.
And for the first time since regaining my hearing, I wished I had never heard at all.
Ram sagged with relief, forcing a nervous laugh as he bowed, his aura shifting from panic to uneasy calm. But I couldn’t look away from Alpha Alaric as he rose and crossed the room toward me.
Each step was deliberate, commanding, the Alpha in every movement. He plucked a shawl from a chair and draped it over my shoulders. His fingers brushed my skin, sending a shiver down my spine, but there was no warmth in his touch, only a yawning distance that left my wolf restless.
He raised his hands in the signs he had once patiently taught me, soft and protective.
“Why would you wander out in such cold, wearing so little? You’ll catch a cold.”
Once, that effort would have melted me. I remembered the long nights when he sat with his tutor, determined to master every sign despite the grueling demands of leading our pack. His brow furrowed, his jaw clenched, and still he persevered. Back then, I believed it was love. I thought he wanted to bridge the silence that had caged me, to pull me into a world where I was not always left behind.
Now, those same hands mocked me. Every graceful movement of his fingers was another mask, another layer of performance. The gentlest gestures hid the cruelest truths, truths he dared to speak aloud only when he thought I was deaf, truths that reduced me from his Luna to a mere placeholder.
Once, on a night drenched in silver moonlight, I begged Alpha Alaric not to push himself so hard to learn my language.
The desk lamp threw a warm pool of light, sharp angles cutting across his jaw as he signed, brows drawn tight with focus. Beneath his skin, his wolf shifted, restless and alert, its pulse brushing against mine, yet man and beast held just enough control to trace the careful, hesitant movements of his hands.