Cressida POV
By the time my family sits down for dinner, they all know about Pack Leader Aaron's order. My mom told my dad. Then, they told my two brothers—Sirius and Nox—and my sister, Twila.
I, meanwhile, locked myself in my bedroom and stared at the ceiling until the call for dinner made it impossible for me to keep hiding when my stomach was twisting itself in knots due to both anxiety and hunger.
Now, I'm at a dinner table that makes me feel more like I'm about to be sent to the gallows for an execution. And somehow, this isn't the first time I've felt that way, considering it wouldn't be unheard of for me to be exiled from the pack and cut off from my family. If I wasn't contributing to the pack the only way I can—through money earned from a human job—then that certainly would've been the case.
But for some reason, my family sees the small pack that we make together as more important than the full pack. Not that I blame them, really.
In fact, I'm incredibly grateful that this is the case. If my father or brothers had been born as alphas, my life might've been different. Lonelier. Or if my mom or sister ended up being a rare Luna.
Instead, we're just average werewolves with one failure in the family.
I can tell that my assumption about my mom telling everybody else in the family about my arranged marriage is correct when I step into the dining room. It's normal for me to be the last to arrive to meals and get a glance when I walk through the door. The usual seeing movement and checking what it is kind of glance.
Today, I'm receiving glances of pity instead.
Well, pity flavored with the unique emotions that my parents and siblings have about my future. Anger. Frustration. Disbelief.
Every feeling that I've been trying—and failing—to process since I left my meeting with Aaron.
Sirius breaks the silence when I slip into my seat with a "Hey, Sid."
"Hey." I don't look at him. I don't look at any of them and instead keep my focus on the plate in front of me.
Nox is the one who brings it up, because of course he is. He has a functioning social filter. I know this. I've witnessed it in action at important events with wolves and humans and other non-humans who he's better off not offending.
For better or for worse, he forgoes his social filter when it comes to family. Which includes me.
Which is why Nox says, "So, I heard you're getting married."
"Not by choice," is all I can say to that.
"Crazy how many marriages happen that way," Nox says.
That earns him a smack on the back of his head from our mom.
"What was that for?" Nox rubs the back of his head, but I know that he's not actually in pain. He's just dramatic.
"You're not helping," Mom says.
Nox's expression clearly says that helping wasn't his intention, but those aren't the words that leave his mouth. Instead, he says, "At least it's Luka. He has principles that he actually stands by."
That's the default response from the family. Their way of coping with a situation that none of us have power over.
I understand their need to cope with this situation. It's big. It's life-changing.
But it's my life that's changing.
"I know Luka has never been hostile towards me, but he's never had a reason to do more than acknowledge me, and even that is debatable." I stab my fork into one of the baby potatoes on my plate with excessive force, imaging it's Aaron's stupid, smug face. "But now I'm being used to embarrass him, and that gives him plenty of reasons to hate me."
"It's not your choice," Twila says. She tries to be the voice of reason, but this isn't a reasonable situation.
"Does that matter?" I ask.
Nobody answers. Silence takes over the dinner table as we each spend more time pushing food around our plates instead of eating it.
It's uncomfortable.
Not because nobody knows what to say or because the news about my marriage is on everybody's mind.
It's uncomfortable because my family is never this quiet. They never push around food instead of eating it. Awakened werewolves are hungry creatures. Instead of a lapse in conversation that's filled with the sounds of eating, there's nothing.
My anger at Aaron fades. It's useless anyway. I can be as mad at him as I want, but nothing will change.
As much as I hate to admit it, I'm powerless in this situation. Even more than usual. And this time, my family's powerless, too.
A different feeling starts forming in my chest where the anger was. It's not despair, not yet. But it's despair-adjacent in a way that I'm not willing to examine right now. Despair is for the moment I give up hope that I'll be able to survive this deliberate move from Aaron.
Survival, as it stands, is my only option. Hoping that the marriage will be called off would be a waste of energy. I'm sure Luka hates the idea as much as I do—why wouldn't he? But like me, he can't object to the arrangement without causing more problems for himself. It's easier to swallow his pride.
I set my fork on the napkin next to my mostly untouched dinner plate and excuse myself from the table, heading to the comfortable solitude of my bedroom with the door shut behind me. My room looks the same as it always does, but now I see it as temporary. In one lunar cycle, I'll be in a new home with a new pack and a new husband. Everything will be unfamiliar. I expect some of it will be hostile. Nobody wants the burden of a failed werewolf in their pack.
And it's all because of my own failure to awaken my wolf.