The kiss finally breaks, and I see it—the way she’s dazed, the way she sways slightly into him, the way her lips are still parted.
And then she looks at me again. My stomach drops to my ass. Because this time, her gaze isn’t just shocked.
It’s unreadable.
I force my feet to move, stepping toward her, my heart in my fucking throat. “Willow?—”
She flinches.
That small movement kills me.
But I keep going, reaching for her, desperate to say something, anything to fix this.
“I just—I need to talk to you. Please.”
Her expression hardens. Before I can say another word, she steps back. Away from me.
“Willow.”
Another step away.
Toward him, into him, he wraps his arm around her shoulders.
“Not now, Landon,” she clips out, dismissing me as if I’m nothing more than a child underfoot—so far from the Willow I remember. The Willow who once looked at me and saw her entire world. For that all too brief week.
I did this.
They turn away as one, walking toward a waiting town-car with two other men standing near it, staring daggers at me.
She’s already moved on. Found herself a whole pack. Maybe I did the right thing. If she’s happy, maybe I should let her go for real.
I don't know what else to do so I stand there. Watching. Hurting. Knowing that the worst mistake of my life wasn’t just letting her go. It was thinking I ever had the right to come back.
The alpha hands her off to one of the others, and then he stalks back to me. Pure rage is painted on his face, like he knows who I am, what I am, and what I did. He stops in front of me as she climbs into a sleek black car. His gaze flicks over me, pure hatred burning in his eyes.
“Say her name one more time,” he murmurs, “and I'll cut your tongue out.”
The threat slices clean through the grief tightening around my ribs. My fists clench at my sides, my jaw locking, but Idon’t rise to it. I glance past him, toward the darkened windows of the car, knowing she’s in there. Knowing she’s leaving—with them.
Still, I lift my chin, defiance smoldering in my chest. “I'm not giving up.”
His jaw ticks. Something sharp flickers behind his eyes—something that says he knows exactly what I just lost. Then, without another word, he turns and walks away from me, each step deliberate. He doesn’t look back as he climbs into the car and slams the door shut.
I stand there, staring after the tail lights as they vanish down the street, knowing I just lost the best thing I ever had.
CHAPTER 14
Willow
Hunter paces my apartment,his fingers gripping his phone so tight, I half expect it to shatter. He types out another text, his jaw locked, shoulders tense. He’s been like this since Graham and Carson dropped us off at the front door and left for some unknown place.
He hasn't looked at me once since kissing me. And it's getting under my skin.
Protecting me. That’s what he called it. Is it bad that I’m imagining what else he could protect me from in the same way? I shift in the armchair, pulling my knees to my chest.
“You didn’t have to kiss me,” I say. I search his eyes for any flicker of emotion, any sign that it was more than a kiss, but he remains resolute. “I can handle Landon. He’s not dangerous.”
He snorts. “From my perspective, he’s hurt you more than your stalker has.”
