Fractured Roots

The glow of the fire danced across Leah's face as she sat curled on the floor of Kai's private study. The room was quiet, save for the occasional pop of the logs in the hearth. Kai had stepped out to oversee the final details of the pack's preparations, leaving her alone with her thoughts.

Claire had gone to bed early, exhausted from the day, and Damon had retreated to his own corner of the estate. It was the first moment Leah had been truly alone in what felt like weeks.

She stared into the flames, her mind drifting back to a life that now felt like it belonged to someone else entirely.

---

Leah had grown up in a house that was anything but a home. Her parents, Marissa and James, were cold, calculated people whose lives revolved around appearances. To the outside world, they were the perfect family—a beautiful house in a pristine neighborhood, successful careers, and a daughter who was the picture of perfection.

But inside those walls, Leah had always felt suffocated.

Her parents had never been cruel in the traditional sense. There were no harsh words or violent outbursts. Instead, their disdain came in the form of indifference.

Her childhood memories were a blur of empty rooms and silence. Birthdays were acknowledged but never celebrated. Achievements were expected but never praised. Love was conditional, given only when Leah conformed to their rigid expectations.

By the time she was sixteen, Leah had stopped trying.

---

It was a chilly November evening when everything finally came to a head. Leah had been accepted into an art program at a local college—a dream she had kept to herself for years. She'd come home clutching the acceptance letter, her heart pounding with a rare sense of hope.

Her mother had been in the kitchen, sipping wine and flipping through a glossy magazine. Her father was seated in his study, the door half-closed as always.

"I got in," Leah had said, holding out the letter.

Marissa had glanced at it, her expression barely shifting. "Art? That's not practical, Leah. You'll never make a living off of that."

Her father's voice had floated in from the study. "She's wasting her time. She should focus on something useful—like law or business."

Leah had stood there, the letter trembling in her hands. "It's what I want," she'd whispered.

Her mother's laugh had been cold. "What you want doesn't matter, Leah. What matters is what's best for you. And this? This isn't it."

That was the night Leah packed her things and left.

---

The first few months were brutal. Leah had scraped by on part-time jobs and the kindness of strangers. She'd slept on couches, in her car, and even in shelters when she had nowhere else to go.

But despite the hardships, she'd felt freer than she ever had under her parents' roof.

She found solace in her art, sketching in the corners of coffee shops and selling her work at small markets. It wasn't much, but it was hers.

By the time she turned twenty-one, she had carved out a small but stable life for herself. She'd met Claire during one of her many part-time jobs, and the two had become inseparable. Claire was everything Leah wasn't—bold, outgoing, and fiercely loyal.

For the first time, Leah had felt like she belonged.

---

But even as she built her new life, the ghosts of her past lingered. Her parents had never reached out, not once. Leah told herself she didn't care, that she was better off without them.

Yet on quiet nights like this, when the world seemed to hold its breath, the ache of their rejection resurfaced.

Leah wiped a tear from her cheek, startled by its presence. She hadn't realized she was crying.

"Hey."

She jumped, spinning to see Kai standing in the doorway. His golden eyes softened as he took in her expression. "I didn't mean to scare you."

Leah quickly wiped at her face, forcing a smile. "It's fine. I didn't hear you come in."

Kai stepped into the room, his presence filling the space. "You were miles away," he said gently, sitting down beside her. "What's on your mind?"

She hesitated, unsure how much to share. But something about the way Kai looked at her—so steady, so patient—made her feel like she could tell him anything.

"My parents," she admitted finally.

Kai tilted his head, his brows furrowing. "What about them?"

Leah let out a shaky breath. "They didn't want me. Not really. I mean, they took care of me, but…they never loved me. Not in the way parents are supposed to."

Kai's jaw tightened, a flicker of anger flashing in his eyes. "That's not right. That's not how it should be."

Leah shrugged, her voice trembling. "It's just how it was. I tried to be what they wanted, but it was never enough. So I left."

Kai reached out, his hand brushing hers. "You didn't deserve that."

She looked at him, her eyes filling with tears. "Why do you care?"

His gaze locked onto hers, fierce and unyielding. "Because you're worth caring about, Leah. And I'll prove it to you, every day, if that's what it takes."

Her breath hitched, the sincerity in his words cutting through the walls she'd built around herself.

---

As the fire crackled beside them, Leah felt a weight lift from her chest. For the first time, she let herself believe that maybe, just maybe, she wasn't as alone as she thought.

Kai stayed with her until she fell asleep, his silent presence a comfort she hadn't known she needed.

From the shadows of the hallway, Damon watched, his heart aching as he turned and walked away.