Two days back home, alone.

While I was surrounded by all of the familiar faces, it was still incredibly lonely. No one knew the secret I carried. Not yet anyway.

I spent the first morning cleaning things that didn't need cleaning. Straightening picture frames. Refolding towels. Rearranging books by height, then by color, then by whatever pattern would keep my hands busy long enough to avoid thinking.

By the afternoon, the quiet became loud.

I made coffee, drank half, poured the rest down the sink because it tasted wrong. I sat on the porch swing until my legs went numb. I took two incredibly long baths where the water was so hot I looked like a lobster that had been dunked in a pot. So hot I feared I might have given myself a first degree burn, but neither of them were remotely hot enough to melt the ache sitting under my ribs.

The second day I stopped pretending.

I stood in the Luna's office with a cardboard box and stared at the walls like a stranger. Every photo felt like a lie I was stealing back. I packed in silence, the harsh click of frames stacking on top of each other echoing like tiny fractures. A few omegas asked why I was abandoning it, and I smiled like it was just spring cleaning. A few of the older ones watched me with an inkling of what actually was going on, but no one said a word.

Just like none of the older omegas asked why I had taken all of the photos down in the bedroom or started to pack up my clothing out of the closet and dressers. It was like they saw the writing on the wall and let me bow out quietly.

I was just moving my toiletries to the spare bathroom when I heard the howl indicating that Warren and the motorcade was approaching. My stomach dropped, the same way it had when the rejection snapped between us. I wasn't ready. I'd never be ready. But readiness wasn't a luxury a soon-to-be-former-Luna got.

I gave a sigh and looked at myself in the mirror, same tired eyes, same fake smile I had kept stuck to my face like a doll. "Showtime, I guess," I whispered, smoothing down my skirt.

I had made it to the bottom of the stairs and was out the front door as Warren's car rolled to a stop. The whole pack had eagerly come out to welcome Warren home. It was a tad heartwarming that they were buzzing with so much excitement it was almost tangible.

A few began to cheer as Warren opened the door and stepped out, the cheer began to grow until they saw a woman's hand take his and slide out after him.

Silence. Heavy and immediate.

A few of the younger members of the pack whipped their heads from the new woman to me and back, confusion blatant on their faces.

The woman scanned the crowd nervously before her gaze landed on mine. I could almost hear her thoughts, convincing herself that I had turned the pack against and poisoned them against her.

If only you knew, I thought as I stepped forward and moved to put myself between Warren and the pack. I studied their faces for a moment before dropping to one knee. "Alpha. Luna. Welcome home."