I flinch before I can stop myself. He drags his cold gaze over my face.
“You know that, though. Don’t you? It’s why you’re sticking around, hoping your presence will change her mind. But she doesn’t need you now. She has me. And the alphas who care for her the way you should’ve.”
I clench my jaw. “She isn’t yours.”
“She’s closer to being mine than she is to being yours. I should do something about the way you hurt her. I would have, if it weren’t for those bodyguards. You should thank them for saving your life. I’m feeling generous. If you hurt her again, I won’t be so kind.”
A fear spikes with my adrenaline. I swallow it down.
“You follow her?” I ask, more accusation than question.
He shrugs. “I’m not hiding it. She knows I’m watching. She lets me. She likes it.”
He lets that sit between us.
“She will never belong to you,” I grit out.
“No. But I belong to her.” There’s a dangerous calm in his voice now. “And that makes all the difference.”
For a long moment, neither of us moves.
Then he smiles. That same quiet, unnerving smile.
“It kills you, doesn’t it? Knowing you had her and lost her. That others can love her better?”
I don’t answer. I don’t have to. He’s already walking away.
I slam the car door,gritting my teeth as my hands grip the steering wheel. Knuckles white.
I stare through the windshield at nothing, trying to breathe. Trying to slow the racing of my heart. My stomach knots, turning over with a nauseating mix of jealousy, shame, and something that feels dangerously close to grief.
Because he wasn’t wrong.
I did let her go.
I was a coward.
I thought I was protecting her when I walked away. Thought the pain of a fading bond would be easier than what might’ve happened if I’d stayed—too stupid, too selfish, too scared to be what she needed. So I destroyed it first.
But she didn’t need me to protect her from the bond. She needed me to fight for it. To let it grow into what it could become.
And I didn’t.
I rub a hand down my face, the sharp sting of those words still echoing in my skull.
She has love now. Alphas who protect her. Who laugh with her. Who probably cook for her and give her things.Who kiss her and treat her as if she’s their whole world. Happiness and joy, she has everything I could ever want for her with other people.
I’ve seen it.
And if I really care about her—if I really love her—then I have to be willing to do the thing I should’ve done from the start.
Become someone worth loving. Fight.
Even if I lose.
Even if it’s too late.
Because maybe it’s not about getting her back. Maybe it’s about deserving her if she ever looks at me again. I put the key in the ignition, but I don’t turn it.
