The cake is still here.
Sitting exactly where I left it an hour ago. Untouched. The container hasn’t movedeven an inch.
I heard her door open earlier. Heard the soft creak of hinges, the pause, the quiet click as she closed it again.
She saw the cake. She saw it and chose to stay hungry rather than accept anything from me.
The ache in my chest intensifies, jamming into my ribs like broken glass.
“This is for the best,” I mutter to the empty hallway.
I’m supposed to stay away from her. That has been the plan for the past six years. Keep my distance. Build walls. Protect her from this impossible bond by denying it exists.
But she’s the one doing that now, while I keep failing at it.
Across from her room, I sit on the floor and lean back against the wall. My eyes stay locked on that closed door. On the barrier between us that feels more insurmountable than any physical distance.
In my mind, I can still see her eyes, red-rimmed and swollen from crying. The blood streaking down her jaw. The exhaustion in every line of her body.
The way she pushed me away even as her body responded to my touch.
“I know it’s all a lie. And I won’t be made a fool of.”
Her words echo in my head.
If I could take her away from here, I would. Hide her somewhere no one could hurt her. Somewhere her mother’s cruelty couldn’t reach. Somewhere she could just be, without constantly having to defend herself.
If I weren’t the Alpha’s heir, if I were anybody else, I would take her and run. Find some remote corner of the world where pack politics and social taboos don’t matter. Where we could explore this bond without fear or shame.
But I’m not anybody else.
I’m Darius Moonvale. Second-in-command. Future alpha.
The barrier between us is more than just this wall. It’s duty. Responsibility. The weight of an entire pack’s expectations sitting on my shoulders. The knowledge that claiming her would destroy both our lives in ways even I can’t fully comprehend.
My wolf snarls, rejecting every logical argument.
She’s ours. She needs us. We should be protecting her, not sitting here like a coward.
“I know,” I whisper to the empty hallway. But knowing doesn’t change anything.
I sit here for half an hour, maybe longer. The house settles around me, creaking and sighing. Somewhere downstairs, I hear James making his final rounds.
I push myself to my feet, then stand there staring at that closed door one more time. At the cake. At the wall between us.
I can’t stay here.
I pull out my phone as I walk away, my thumb scrolling through contacts until I find the one I need. I press dial and bring the phone to my ear.
It rings once. Twice. Then, my call is answered.
“You up for a drink?”
The bass thrumsthrough the walls of the private lounge, a steady pulse that matches the pounding in my head. Outside this room, the club is packed. Bodies pressed together on the dance floor, music loud enough to drown out all thoughts, the kind of chaos that makes it easy to disappear.
In here, though, it’s only Ethan and me. A server hovers just outside the door, ready to fetch whatever we need without asking questions. The lounge is all dark leather and dim lighting, designed for privacy. The kind of place where the Alpha’s heir can fall apart without witnesses.
Ethan Rosario sprawls across from me, nursing his second drink while I work on my fifth. We’ve known each other since we were kids. His family has served mine for generations, but somewhere along the way, duty turned into friendship. He is more of a brother to me than Zion ever was.
