My steps felt heavy as I followed Rhys down the corridor, with Ethan beside me. The grand hallway stretched ahead, adorned with oil paintings of past Alphas. Under different circumstances, I might have appreciated the artistry, but right now, my wolf was howling inside me, desperate for even a scrap of acknowledgment from her mate.
"These are all the past Alphas of the Silver Moon Pack," Ethan explained, trying to fill the awkward silence. "That one there is Rhys's great-grandfather."
I nodded politely, though my attention was split between the paintings and Rhys's rigid back as he walked several paces ahead of us, clearly wanting nothing to do with this tour or me.
"You turned eighteen recently, right?" Ethan asked casually. "How was the birthday? Did you do anything special?"
My throat tightened. My eighteenth birthday—the day I discovered my mate, only to be publicly rejected hours later. "Nothing special," I managed to say. "Just a quiet day with my mom."
