As instructed, Addison put on something nice, a dress she had been holding onto, hoping for the day she could wear it in front of Zion, sharing a quiet dinner together.
She never imagined that day would come so soon. After washing up and dressing, she applied light makeup to conceal the exhaustion on her face.
As soon as she stepped out of her room, she immediately sensed that something was off.
The entire packhouse carried a solemn atmosphere, quiet, almost eerily so.
As she walked down the hallway toward the dining hall, a growing sense of unease settled over her. Her palms clenched tightly, betraying her nerves. Standing before the towering doors, she took a deep breath, trying to steady her racing heart.
When she pushed open the door, she wasn't met with the romantic fine dining she had imagined. Instead, as she stepped forward, her eyes took in the sea of people dressed in black. At the center of it all, Claire sat in a white dress, delicately dabbing her eyes with a handkerchief.
The moment Addison entered, every head turned toward her. A stunned silence filled the room as they all wide eyes stared at her in shock and disbelief.
Addison only fully grasped the situation when her heart pounded violently in her chest. Her breath hitched, and her lashes fluttered as she locked eyes with Zion, who sat at the head of the table, his expression dark with fury.
The atmosphere in the room was heavy with grief, somber and serious, and some were even crying. It was clear they were commemorating the fallen warriors, honoring those who had perished in the war.
It might have been long overdue, but this was the only time their Alpha was present, and the war had finally ended, granting them the chance to grieve their losses.
Many would never return home, and there were no bodies to bury, only the brutal memory of warriors torn apart like ragdolls by the vampires.
At the center of it all, Alpha Zion led the ceremony, offering comfort to the bereaved families. As his Luna, Addison should have been standing by his side, fulfilling her role and providing support.
But instead, it was Claire who stood beside him, assuming the duty that rightfully belonged to Addison.
To make matters worse, Addison wasn't just absent from her responsibilities, but she was dressed in a striking red dress, an inappropriate contrast to the mourning around her.
Rather than offering solace, she seemed to have come there to celebrate, which wasn't entirely false. Her expression only intensified the weight of Zion's burning gaze.
Such disrespect made Zion so angry that he instantly growled manacingly as he stood from his seat. "What do you think you are doing?" He questioned as he took a step forward towards Addison.
Before he could take a step closer, Claire clung to Zion's arm, her voice trembling with grief, laced with quiet sobs as if she were mourning alongside everyone else. The contrast between the two women couldn't have been more stark; one draped in sorrow and offering comfort like a true Luna, while the other arrived late, clad in attire that had no place in a mourning hall.
The difference was glaring, and it didn't take long for the pack members to turn their scorn toward Addison. To them, she had become the perfect target to shoulder their pain, dissatisfaction, and anger.
Murmurs spread through the hall, growing louder as disdain for Addison became impossible to ignore. No one even tried to hide their contempt anymore, openly voicing their criticism as if she weren't standing right there. Their blatant disrespect was suffocating.
Before Zion could even question her, Claire spoke up, her voice soft yet laced with carefully measured sorrow. "Zion, don't be too harsh on her," she said, casting a fleeting, pitying glance at Addison.
"I'm sure she didn't mean to disrespect the dead… Perhaps it's my fault. Maybe my presence made her feel threatened, and she chose today to assert her dominance over you—to remind everyone of her sovereignty. Y-You should comfort her instead."
"After all, she's your Luna, and I—I..." Claire let her voice trail off, never finishing her sentence. She didn't need to. The unspoken words hung in the air, allowing everyone to fill in the blanks with their own assumptions. Speculation spread like wildfire through the hall.
What Claire truly wanted was for everyone to believe that, as Zion's current mate, Addison still held the Luna title, at least for now.
And because of that, Claire had no choice but to step aside, unable to challenge Addison's position or voice her opinions just yet. But that was exactly what she wanted them to think.
By doing this, she subtly ignited resentment toward Addison, pushing the pack members to start comparing them.
She didn't need to lift a finger because once their anger festered, they would be the ones urging Zion to cast Addison aside.
After all, Addison's role had only ever been a formality, a marriage of convenience. She was weak.
Now that Zion had returned, her usefulness had run out. The pack and its territory would naturally fall back under Zion's command, and Addison is nothing more than a figurehead, and she would have no place left beside him.
Then, with a trembling breath, Claire lowered her gaze and whispered, "Zion, I-I'll just leave..." Her voice cracked, and a single sob escaped her lips, making her appear even more fragile and heartbroken.
Addison hadn't even opened her mouth before the mood in the room shifted completely against her. Claire had, once again, turned everyone against her without uttering a single direct accusation.
The pack members, already emotionally raw from grief, latched onto their own conclusions. When they saw Claire, the sweet and selfless Claire, reduced to tears and murmuring about leaving, their sympathy turned to anger.
Glares bore into Addison from all directions. To them, she wasn't their rightful Luna anymore. She was the villain trying to drive away the woman they had already come to cherish.
"Addison, if you have a problem, face me directly. Why go after a pregnant woman? Are you really that vile, stooping so low as to target the weak?" Zion sneered, his voice laced with cold fury.
His jaw clenched as he glared at her, his disgust evident. He had never liked Addison, but after this spectacle, any remaining tolerance he had for her had completely eroded.
Inside his mind, Shura, his wolf, snarled in protest. The beast clawed at Zion's mental barriers, fighting for dominance, its rage mirroring his own. The internal struggle made Zion even more irritable, his patience hanging by a thread.
"I... I didn't know..." Addison could only whisper weakly, her voice barely carrying over the suffocating tension in the room. She glanced around, feeling the weight of the pack's hostility pressing down on her like never before.
In the three years she had led them, they had never truly respected her as their Luna, but at the very least, they had followed her orders out of obligation.
Their disdain had always been present but silent, lingering, but never had it been this openly hostile. Never had it felt like she was standing alone, surrounded by wolves baring their fangs.
Her chest tightened as realization struck. Maybe it had been Gamma Levi shielding her all this time, keeping their contempt at bay. But now… where was he? She searched the room, but he was nowhere to be found. A cold chill ran down her spine. She was isolated. Vulnerable.
And the pack members, once merely distant, were now closing in, their glares sharp, their murmurs growing louder. It was as if they wanted to drown her in their contempt, suffocate her with their sheer numbers.
For the first time, Addison felt like their prey.
Addison stood her ground, but deep down, every fiber of her being screamed at her to run, to escape the suffocating weight of their contempt.
But more than anything, it was the look in Zion's eyes that cut the deepest. Cold. Dismissive. As if she was nothing. The scorching intensity of his disdain felt like a hot knife slicing through her skin, straight to her heart.
She had given everything to this pack. Sacrificed. Led. Fought. And yet, they never truly accepted her. It was only now, standing in the midst of their hostility, that she fully understood that she had never belonged here.
To them, she was an outsider. An intruder who had no right to stand beside their Alpha.
A heavy weariness settled over her. She was tired, tired of endlessly trying, of bending over backward just to earn a place among them.
Tired of being the one who always understood, always endured. But who would ever try to understand her? Who would stand by her side?
She was tired of hoping, tired of dreaming, only to watch those dreams shatter, again and again, right in front of her.
She was exhausted, physically, mentally, and emotionally. The weight of it all pressed down on her, suffocating and relentless. She felt like she was fighting a battle entirely on her own.
If Zion and the warriors who had gone to war believed they were the only ones who had sacrificed the most and endured hardships to secure victory, then they were wrong.
Addison had fought her own battles, silent, unseen, but no less grueling. She had shouldered the burden of keeping the pack afloat, ensuring their survival while also supporting Zion from afar.
She had worked tirelessly to secure supplies, to make sure he never had to worry about anything other than the war itself. And yet, standing here now, surrounded by scorn and resentment, it was as if none of it had ever mattered.