Chapter 4
Gregory
How could I have been so oblivious? Adam had seen the risk from the start—that Evan might hurt himself, or worse—but my past had blinded me to what was right in front of me.
No matter how many times I’d turned him down, no matter how harsh my words or actions were, Evan always stopped by the smithy on his way home. He always gave me that kind, gentle goodbye, even when I offered little more than a grunt in return.
Tonight, the storm had reached its peak, and no gentle knock came.
No tentative footsteps sounded at the smithy door.
Only accusing silence. And that silence clarified everything I’d been avoiding, everything I’d been too much of a coward to face.
At thirty-one, I would never be worthy of any omega, never worthy of love.
The blood on my hands proved it. I’d slaughtered thousands at the Empire’s command, burned cities to ash without question.
I would remain forever alone, haunted by screams I could never silence.
The ride down the mountain became a frantic blur against the driving rain.
Thunder pounded against the muddy path as we approached the southern entrance to Mossfen.
Three main entry points funneled travelers through the village, cutting across the surrounding farmlands and gardens toward the town center.
Harren, the young and dependable alpha who’d volunteered for guard duty to protect the farmers and their families, stood under the covered guardhouse, his lantern carving weak yellow circles into the downpour. His leather armor displayed the simple sun symbol of Celeste across the chest piece.
Here, in this remote village of flower farmers, the goddess’s influence was palpable.
The people revered Celeste as the mother of magic, the divine being who had bestowed humanity with its gifts.
The kingdom of Valoren might not bow to the Asterian Empire, yet it followed the Church of Celeste like most of the world.
Her reach extended far beyond any Emperor’s grasp, binding kingdoms together under shared faith when politics divided them.
Seeing me approach at full speed, Harren stepped out into the deluge, lifting one hand. “Gregory!” he called. “What brings you down from the mountain in this weather?”
I brought my horse to a stop, rain falling from my hair and clothes. “Have you seen Evan tonight? The omega who works at Genevieve’s shop?”
Harren creased his brow. “Aye, saw him this morning heading down the mountain. The downpour hadn’t started yet.” He adjusted his stance, gripping the lantern. “Figured he turned back when the weather worsened.”
The lake path. The same damn route I’d taken to meet him.
“He never made it back to town.” The realization escaped me, a strained whisper lost in the lightning strike.
I charged my horse past the guardhouse and into Mossfen’s empty streets. I aimed for Genevieve’s flower shop first. If he’d made it to safety, he’d be there.
Wet stones rang under Thunder’s hoofbeats as we reached the shop, each impact flinging up arcs of muddy water.
Thunder snorted and pranced beneath me, his ears pinned back against the gale.
I dismounted before he’d fully stopped, covering the distance to the door in long strides, boots splashing through puddles that mirrored the lightning above.
The wooden door groaned as I slammed my fist against it. The shop was somber in the rain, the flowers outside drooping, their petals battered and scattered. Down the street, the wind whistled, making the sign creak on its chains.
A dim light burned in Genevieve’s upstairs window. As I raised my hand to knock again, the door opened. Warm air, fragrant with dried lavender, rose petals, and sweet herbs, spilled out.
Genevieve stood there in her simple brown work dress, her gray hair pulled back in a loose bun. Decades had softened her features, but her eyes remained clear and missed nothing, holding a knowing kindness that always saw more than anyone was willing to show.
“Genevieve, I need to—”
“Do you know where Evan is?” she demanded, cutting me off.
Her face held no accusation, only something far worse. Deep worry. She’d taken Evan under her wing from the moment he arrived in Mossfen, and she had witnessed every time I’d been cold to him. This wasn’t suspicion from her place on the council. This was the fierce, protective heart of a mother.
“The boy never came back this afternoon,” she continued when I didn’t respond, “And with this squall… he should have been home hours ago.”
Every muscle locked. He wasn’t here. Evan was somewhere out in this deluge, alone and hurt because of what I’d done.
Genevieve seized both my arms with her rough hands. For a small woman, years of farm work had given her surprising strength. She dug her fingers into my wet sleeves, fixing her eyes on me.
“Gregory, if something’s happened to that boy…” She didn’t finish. She didn’t have to. The steel in her gaze said enough. The threat was clear. This woman, who’d never raised her voice, would tear me apart.
How could I confess to the Elder who treated Evan like family what I’d done?
That I’d grabbed my mate by the neck, burned my mark into his skin, then walked away?
Everyone in the village loved Evan. He was their ray of sunshine—he brought joy to the elderly and played with the children.
And the man Genevieve cherished was alone in this raging storm because of me.
“I’ll find him,” I promised. “I’ll bring him back.”
“Gregory—”
“I’ll find him,” I insisted, retreating as the rain pounded without showing any sign of slowing. “On my life.”
I spun back toward my mount, already knowing where I had to go. Back to the lake. Back to where I’d left him. Back to fix what I’d broken.