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Chapter Thirty Eight
Alaya's POV
"Alaya, you have to get up," My mother dragged the blankets off my head. The sunlight pouring through the window burned my eyes.
"Why?" I whined burying my face into my pillow.
"This is not healthy. You haven't been on a pack run in weeks. You haven't been to work. King Ralph is concerned about you."
I sighed, burying my face further into my pillow. Anton died six weeks ago and Fyre still refused to speak to me. Whenever I tried to shift she resisted, instead wallowing in grief in the furthest corner of my mind.
"No one blames you for what Anton did, Alaya," she assured me. "He shouldn't have tried to steal if he couldn't take his punishment."
She didn't know he was my mate and I rejected him. No one did. He tried to tell people but they refused to believe him. I denied it all, sticking to my story of him attempting to steal from the throne room.
My mother sighed, gently clicking the cl
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