Chapter 367: Hannah + 25 Bonus

It was well past midnight when I stumbled into my family’s mansion, my vision blurred by tears, my throat raw from sobbing. The familiar scent of my childhood home barely registered as I collapsed onto the floor just inside the doorway. My claws extended involuntarily, scraping the polished hardwood as I curled into a ball.

My wails echoed through the grand foyer, bouncing off the high ceilings and marble columns. I couldn't stop the animal sounds escaping my throat, couldn't control the tremors racking my body with each ragged breath. Footsteps thundered down the stairs, followed by a gasp. "Hannah? What are you doing here?"

Through my tears, I saw my sister's blurry form; her nightgown billowed as she rushed to my side. The scent of milk clung to her—she must have been feeding the baby. I tried to speak, to explain, but only another gut-wrenching sob escaped. My claws dug deeper into the floor, gouging the wood.

"Oh, Hannah," Lily murmured, dropping to her knees. She enveloped me in her arms, and I collapsed against her, my body wracked with tremors. "What happened? Are you hurt?"

I continued to wail, awakening the entire house. More footsteps, more voices. Hands reached for me; voices overlapped in a cacophony. "What's going on?" "Is she injured?" "Someone call Noah!"

At the sound of his name, a fresh wave of anguish washed over me. I let out a keening wail, my claws tearing at the floor. "Don't!" I choked out. "Don't call him!"

I heard murmuring, then strong arms lifted me. Through my tears, I recognized my parents' head of security, an aging wolf who had watched me grow up. "I've got her," he said. "Where should I take her?"

"Her old room," my mother's voice came from nearby. "Quickly, now."

I was carried upstairs, my body limp in the security officer's arms. The familiar scents of my childhood bedroom enveloped me as he gently laid me on the bed, mingling with the lingering scent of Noah from our last night there. I wanted to tell them I couldn't bear to be here, that I needed another room, but I had no strength left.

Eventually, darkness claimed me, and I fell into a fitful sleep.

Morning came too soon, harsh sunlight streaming through the windows. My eyes felt swollen and gritty, my throat raw. For a moment, I couldn't remember where I was or why I felt so awful. Then it all came crashing back—Noah, the divorce papers, the cruel words.

Bastard. I hated him.

A soft knock roused me. "Hannah?" My mother's voice was gentle. "Are you awake, sweetheart?"

I managed a hoarse "Yes," and the door creaked open. My parents entered, followed by Lily, carrying a tray of gently clinking teacups. They all wore matching expressions of concern.

"How are you feeling, honey?" my father asked, perching on the edge of the bed.

I sat up slowly, wincing at the ache in my muscles. "Like I've been hit by a truck," I croaked.

"Hannah," my mother said softly, "what happened? Why are you here?"

I took a deep breath. "Noah… he divorced me. He said…" My voice broke. I swallowed hard. "He said he never loved me. That it was all an act."

A collective gasp filled the room. My mother's hand flew to her mouth; my father's face darkened with anger.

"But that doesn't make any sense," Lily protested. "I thought you two were staying together, working on the marriage."

I let out a bitter laugh. "Yeah, well, Noah's a liar. He said he was keeping me happy so I wouldn't try to take money or possessions from the house. He said I was an idiot for ever believing him."