Chapter 10: Breakfast in Silence
The chill of the tent floor seeped into Jennie’s bare feet as she finally forced herself to stand. Every muscle protested, a symphony of deep, throbbing aches. Between her legs felt raw, used, and a slow, sticky trickle traced a path down her inner thigh. She wiped at it with the hem of her shift, her movements mechanical. She dressed slowly, pulling on simple leggings and a soft sweater, the fabrics abrasive against her oversensitive skin.
Outside, the camp was alive with the clatter of breakfast. The smell of sizzling fat and bitter coffee cut through the cedar air, a mundane normality that felt like an assault. She pushed the tent flap open, the morning light too bright, too cheerful.Heads turned as she approached the long table. The conversation didn’t stop, but it dipped, warped around her presence. She felt every glance like a physical touch.Leonid was already there.
He sat at the head, not in his usual central spot, but with Minho and a few other enforcers. A cigarette dangled from his lips, smoke curling into the pine branches above. He was laughing at something Minho said, the sound easy and light.It was a performance. She could see the tension in the line of his jaw, the way his shoulders were held just a fraction too rigid.He never looked her way.
She took a seat at the far end, as far from him as the table allowed. The wood was scarred and warm under her palms.“Hey, look who finally emerged,” a voice drawled. Kai. He leaned back on the bench, his eyes traveling over her with a slow, insinuating leer.“Sleep in?Or just… recovering? You look a little tender, omega.” He sniffed the air dramatically. “Smell pretty thoroughly claimed, too.”
A low, warning rumble vibrated through the clearing. It wasn’t a loud growl, but it was pure, undiluted alpha authority. It came from Leonid, though his head remained tilted toward Minho, as if still listening to a story.The message was clear. Kai’s smirk faltered, his own fragile ego crumpling under the silent reprimand. He picked up his mug, his knuckles white.
Jisoo slid onto the bench beside Jennie, a plate piled with eggs and venison in her hand.“Ignore him. He’s a fart with a mouth.” She set the plate in front of Jennie.“Eat. You look pale.”
Rosé appeared on Jennie’s other side, pressing a warm mug of sweetened tea into her hands. “It’s the honey-lavender kind you like,” she murmured, her voice soft.
Jennie stared at the food.Her stomach churned. She could only stare at Leonid, at the casual drape of his arm over the back of the bench, at the way the sunlight caught the dark curls at his nape.She willed him to look at her.To see her. Just a glance.He didn’t.
“So, Minho,” Leonid said, his voice carrying easily.“Tell me about that creek you found up north. Deep enough for trout?”
“Could be,” Minho replied, throwing a cautious glance toward Jennie before focusing on his alpha. “Water’s clear.Cold.”
Their conversation flowed around her, a wall of normalcy. Jennie picked up a fork, pushed the eggs around the plate.
“He’ll come around,” Jisoo said softly, following her gaze.“He’s hurt.You know how he gets. All icy quiet until he snaps.”
“This is different,” Jennie whispered. Her throat felt tight.“He’s not just quiet. He’s… gone.”
From further down the table, Karina’s light, tinkling laugh carried. She was sitting close to Kai, a deliberate show, but her eyes kept flicking to Minho, who was resolutely not looking at her. The whole pack was a tangled web of want and resentment, and Jennie sat at the center, hollowed out.
John and Mina, sitting across from Jisoo, offered small, sympathetic smiles.They didn’t speak.What was there to say?
Jennie’s eyes burned. She focused on the scent of his cigarette smoke, a thread of him in the air she could pretend was for her.It wasn’t.
Suddenly, Leonid stubbed his cigarette out on a stone.He stood, the movement fluid and final. “Going to scout the eastern ridge,” he announced to no one in particular. “Hunt alone.”
“Want company?” Minho asked, half-rising.“No.”
That single word, flat and final, hung in the air. He didn’t gather supplies.Didn’t look at anyone. He just turned and walked into the tree line, his broad back disappearing into the dappled shadows without a backward glance.
The silence he left behind was heavier than the noise. Jennie watched the empty space where he’d been, the ghost of his silhouette imprinted on her vision.
Kai let out a low chuckle, the sound mean and satisfied.“Looks like someone’s in the doghouse. Permanently.” He stood, stretching.“Guess the alpha’s bed is free. For now.”
This time, no protective growl rose from the woods. Jennie just sat there, holding the cooling mug, feeling the sticky proof of his possession drying on her skin, and understood with chilling clarity that the brutal coupling had not secured him to her.
It had been his farewell.