“Suddenly what?” I challenge. “Suddenly I’m tired of being alone?” The admission slips out before I can stop it.
Levi goes very still. “So there is something between you.”
I close my eyes, cursing my loose tongue. “It doesn’t matter what there is or isn’t. This conversation is over.”
“Like hell it is.” He moves closer, his size and presence suddenly overwhelming in the confined space. “You think you can just dismiss me? Dismiss what we could have together?”
“There is no ‘we,’ Levi. There never has been.”
“Because you won’t let there be.” His voice drops to something rougher, more dangerous. “Because you’re too scared to take a chance on something real.”
“Real?” I laugh bitterly. “You want to know what’s real? Real is watching your parents die protecting you. Real is understanding that everyone you love becomes a target. Realis choosing duty over desire because it’s the only choice that doesn’t end in heartbreak.”
“And what about what I want?” he demands. “What about my choice in this?”
“You’ll find someone else,” I say as gently as I can manage. “Someone who can give you what you deserve.”
“I don’t want someone else.” His hand cups my cheek, thumb brushing over the scar that runs from temple to jaw. “I want you. Scars and walls and stubborn independence. All of it.”
For a moment, I let myself feel the warmth of his touch, the genuine emotion behind his words. Levi is good, strong, and loyal. He’s been my friend for years, someone I trust implicitly, someone I care about deeply.
But caring isn’t the same as being in love.
The realization sits heavy in my chest—not just because I can’t return his feelings, but because I finally understand the difference. What I feel for Levi is warm, familiar, rooted in years of friendship and shared experiences. It’s comfortable affection, the kind that comes from knowing someone completely and appreciating their worth.
What I feel for Kier burns differently—hotter, deeper, with an intensity that terrifies me. It’s not just attraction or gratitude or the bond forged through shared trauma. It’s something that reaches into the darkest corners of my soul and demands I acknowledge it, something that makes my wolf pace with recognition and need.
That’s the difference, I realize with painful clarity. With Levi, I could choose to love him if I tried hard enough. With Kier, I don’t have a choice at all.
And that’s exactly why I can’t hurt Levi by pretending. He deserves someone who burns for him the way I burn for the copper-haired nomad. He deserves a mate who chooses him not out of duty or fondness, but out of the kind of desperate, consuming need that can’t be reasoned away or controlled.
I can’t give him that. I won’t lie to either of us and pretend I can.
This isn’t that life, and I’m not that woman.
I step back, removing his hand from my face. “I’m sorry, Levi. Truly. But my answer is no.”
His expression hardens, hurt transforming into something colder. “Fine. But don’t expect me to stand aside and watch you throw yourself away on some nomad who’ll leave the moment things get difficult.”
“Kier isn’t—” I catch myself before I can reveal too much.
“Isn’t what?” Levi’s eyes sharpen. “Isn’t temporary? Isn’t going to break your heart when he moves on to the next territory?” He shakes his head. “You’re smarter than this, Lithia. Don’t let desperation make you do something you’ll regret.”
Anger flares in my chest. “Get out.”
“Lithia—”
“I said get out.” My voice carries the full weight of my authority as Beta. “Now.”
He stares at me for a long moment, then turns and stalks from the chamber without another word. The door slams behind him hard enough to rattle the frame.
I slump back into my chair, emotionally drained. The food he brought sits untouched, my appetite destroyed by the confrontation.
That went well,my wolf observes dryly.
Shut up.
I try to return to my work, but concentration is impossible. My hands shake slightly as I organize papers, adrenaline from the argument still coursing through my system.
