Chapter 14
Heart to Heart
Alexa
Jo sees me pass by and furrows her brows, silently asking if I’m all right. Earlier, I was spared only because Jo called Mr. Moris and dragged him to the front lobby to stop Gabriel. Not wanting to worry her again, I nod, a small signal meant to reassure her that I’m fine.
I still have control over this. I have to. It won’t help me at all if I keep running from him. At least I need to show him that he doesn’t matter to me now.
“You really think you can control your feelings?” Mythril snorts.
I bite the inside of my cheek, swallowing the urge to snap back at her. When I reach the kitchen, I clutch the empty tray with both hands and lean my weight against one side of the locked double doors. Blood rushes to my fingertips, heat pulsing there, sharp and dizzying.
Earlier this afternoon, I didn’t expect to run into Gabriel again, not here. Alastair might come back eventually, but Gabriel is a shock I’m not prepared for. This reunion with Gabriel comes far too soon.
When I was forced to leave the pack, I imagined seeing him again in ten, maybe twenty years.
By then, I tell myself, I would be strong enough to face him, strong enough to fight, to take revenge on my stepmother and stepsister without hesitation.
I never imagine he would appear this fast, ripping the wound open before it has time to scar.
What unsettles me most is that the pull is still there. I keep watching him from the corner of my eye. When he goes upstairs to his room. When he comes back down and deliberately asks for dinner from me. The truth presses hard against my chest. I still care, no matter how much I want to deny it.
Gabriel looks exactly as I remember. Handsome.
Commanding. His broad shoulders, solid frame, the sharp line of his nose and square jaw.
The thin mustache sits on his face like a delicate ornament.
His dark-blond hair is still neatly combed, and the urge to reach out and mess it up the way I used to makes my fingers ache.
“Yeah,” Mythril whispers, her voice trembling. “I miss him, Alexa.”
“No,” I tell her fiercely. “I have to break the bond.”
If I go back to him now, everything I’ve endured as a rogue means nothing. Even if I have to lie, even if I have to pretend I don’t recognize him, I can’t return to Silver Moon yet. I won’t go back to being disposable. To being his trash.
Mythril howls inside me, raw and broken. Tears slide down my cheeks as I fight the urge to run straight into his arms. The pain in my chest compounds it all, twisting until it becomes unbearable. Heartbreak, hate, regret, sadness, longing. All of it tangled into one messy ache inside me.
“I don’t love him anymore.”
“You do,” Mythril sobs. “You do, and you know it.”
Part of me is grateful that Gabriel still sees me, still searches for me. But the memory of his betrayal burns hotter. Him choosing my stepsister. Him turning his back on my suffering. If I go back now, everything Harlow has done to keep me hidden is wasted.
I dig my nails into the tray until my arms tremble and my fingers redden. I lower my forehead onto the cool surface, clinging to it as my tears fall unchecked.
After a few minutes, I force myself to breathe. I wipe my face, inhale deeply, then exhale slowly to clear my nose. I close my eyes, replaying everything that has led me to this moment.
Maybe Gabriel is right about one thing. We need to talk. I need to end this properly. I need to reject him and sever the bond, once and for all. No more looking at the past.
I peek through the small window in the kitchen door, and my heart leaps violently when he stands right there.
“Alexa,” he says from the other side, his voice low and certain. “I know you’re in there. We’re mates. I can feel you.”
Startled, I spin away from the door, my heart hammering erratically against my ribs.
“Please,” he continues. “Come back to me.”
Goddess. Is he serious? After everything he did? After abandoning me when I needed him most?
“Go away, Gabriel,” I say, my voice shaking. “I hate you.”
The moment the words leave my mouth, I know I’ve made a mistake. I’ve confirmed everything. The door shifts beside me as he pushes it open.
“Alexa,” he says softly. “Please. We can figure this out. Together.”
“No. Just leave me alone.”
Panic crashes over me. I gasp and stumble backward, our eyes locking. No. I’m not ready. Not like this.
I turn and bolt, instinct taking over. My footsteps echo through the kitchen as I race for the back exit and burst into the dark alley behind the club, running as fast as my legs will carry me.
“Alexa, stop!”
He’s faster. He catches me within seconds, his hand gripping my shoulder and slamming me back against the wall. I cry out, but his body cages me in, his arms locking tight around me.
“Stop running,” he growls near my ear. “Just talk to me.”
His hands move, one stroking my head, the other tangling in my hair. His lips brush my temple again and again as he breathes me in, leaving me no space to push him away.
No.
My strength wavers because Mythril wants him just as badly. His scent drags memories to the surface, soft and cruel. The warmth of being his. The safety I once knew. His hips press against mine, and it all comes rushing back.
“I reject you,” I say, my voice breaking, half plea and half snarl. “I want nothing to do with Silver Moon.”
“No,” he says immediately. “I don’t accept that. Please, Alexa.”
Tears spill down my face again, helpless and hot. My heart splits between my will and my wolf. I want him. I always have. But I can’t. I can’t betray myself again.
“Alexa,” he whispers. “Stay. Stay as my mate. I love you.”
Hearing his words, my heart drops, like a bucket of icy water dumped over my head, stealing my breath and tightening my jaw until it aches.
What did he just say? Love?
I blink, once, twice. All the longing and guilt evaporate, replaced by a sharp, spreading pain in my chest. Is this because he thinks being an Alpha means he can say whatever he wants and expect everyone to swallow it whole?
“Love?” I repeat the word in a whisper, disbelief threading through my voice.
With firm resolve, I shove him away with all my strength. My gaze turns dark and cold, reflecting the night sky hanging above us.
“That’s not love,” I say flatly. “It never was.”
The Moon Goddess made a mistake pairing us. Or maybe one of her messengers was exhausted, careless, when assigning my mate. That theory makes more sense to me than anything coming out of his mouth. Especially now, when I can feel the pull of potential mates with three other men at the same time.
Gabriel is just one of the Moon Goddess’s errors. Nothing more.
“Alexa, listen to me,” he says, stepping closer. “I love you.”
“Don’t you dare,” I snap. “I’m done listening to your nonsense.” My gaze locks onto his, daring him to say it again.
“Please. Just trust me.” He pushes forward once more, crowding my space, wrapping his arms around me. One hand cups the back of my neck, and without warning, his lips rush toward mine.
“No. Stop!” I shove him hard, breaking free as I wrench my body away. “Don’t touch me!”
“Why?” His voice cracks. “Why do you keep rejecting me, Alexa? You know I can’t survive without my true mate. I can’t live without you.”
I let out a bitter laugh. “Do you even hear yourself? Aren’t you ashamed? Or are you planning to keep lying to everyone and playing the victim?”
“If I’m wrong, I’ll apologize,” he says quickly. “But just think about it. This isn’t fair to me. It’s not fair to the Silver Moon Pack either. They need their Luna. You’re their Luna.”
For a split second, his words hit their mark. I’ve thought the same thing more times than I care to admit over the past years. It’s a thorn lodged deep in my chest. But do I really owe them anything now, when none of them cared about my suffering?
“For Goddess’s sake,” I roar, my eyes burning. “I was dragged into an auction, and you didn’t give a damn.”
“That’s not true,” he fires back. “I had a plan to save you. I had to surrender temporarily to avoid an unnecessary fight with them. Once I confirmed your whereabouts, I sent someone to bring you home. But he messed up and ran.”
“Brianna?”
The voice cuts through my fury like a blade. I turn as someone calls my name. The man approaching us is slightly out of breath, but his posture remains upright, his stride long and purposeful.
“Romero?” I frown when I recognize him.
Great. This is about to get a whole lot worse.