Chapter 25
DECLAN
The door slams in my face.
The sound echoes down the hallway, sharp and final. I stand there for a moment, staring at the wood grain, trying to process what just happened.
Dr. W made herself perfectly clear. She’s done talking to me.
I knock. “Dr. W, I apologize. I didn’t mean—”
Silence.
I knock again. “Please. Let me explain properly.”
Nothing.
I try once more, my knuckles rapping against the door. “I was trying to keep you out of pack drama. That’s all. I wasn’t trying to—”
My wolf’s ears catch something through the door. A faint sound. Her voice, quiet and muffled, speaking to someone.
A phone call.
I step back from the door, running a hand through my hair. She’s not going to answer. Not now. Maybe not ever.
My chest tightens with frustration—at myself, at Celeste, at this entire situation that I somehow keep making worse.
I turn and walk down the hallway, my eyes scanning for something, anything I can use. There’s a small administrative office two doors down. I push inside and find what I’m looking for—paper and a pen sitting on the desk.
I grab both and lean against the wall, staring down at the blank page.
What do I even say?
I’m sorry my fated mate insulted you and your boyfriend?
I’m sorry I called my ex-girlfriend insignificant?
I press the pen to paper and start writing.
Dr. W,
I apologize for what happened today. Celeste was out of line, and I should have stopped her sooner. You came here to do important work, and you deserve to be treated with respect—not dragged into personal matters that have nothing to do with you.
I also apologize for my own words. When I said my ex-girlfriend was insignificant, I was trying to make it clear that her history has no bearing on your work here. I didn’t mean to diminish anyone. That was careless of me.
You are our most honored guest, and I will make sure this doesn’t happen again.
—Alpha Declan Cross
I read it over twice, then fold the paper in half and walk back to her door.
I crouch down and slide it underneath, making sure it’s visible from the inside.
Then I straighten and walk away, my footsteps clipped against the tile floor.
----
“Alpha?”
I turn to find Antony coming down the corridor, his expression confused. “I thought you were with Dr. W. Is the consultation finished already?”
My jaw tightens. “No. I was... asked to leave.”
Antony’s eyebrows shoot up. “Asked to leave?”
“More like shoved out and had the door slammed in my face.” I keep walking, and he falls into step beside me. “I brought Celeste along to the consultation. She started talking. A lot. About things that had nothing to do with the medical consultation.”
I tell him the rest—how Celeste tried setting Dr. W up with pack wolves, how she went on about my relationship with her, how the whole thing spiraled until Dr. W finally had enough and threw me out.
Understanding flickers across Antony’s face the moment I mention bringing Celeste. “Ah. Alpha, I saw that human earlier. The one who was with Dr. W when we found her on the road. He kissed her cheek before she left.”
I stop walking. “And?”
“And I assume he’s her boyfriend. So all of Celeste’s efforts trying to set Dr. W up with pack wolves... she was wasting everyone’s time. Dr. W already has someone.”
Antony chooses his words carefully. “And Alpha, Dr. W is our most honored guest right now. Your parents’ lives depend on her. Perhaps it would be worth keeping a closer eye on how Celeste conducts herself around her.”
Irritation flashes through me, hot and sharp. I know he’s right. I know Celeste was out of line. But hearing it said out loud—hearing my Beta tell me I need to control my own mate—grates against something raw.
“I understand,” I say curtly. “I’ll speak with Celeste. And I’ll make a proper apology to Dr. W later.”
“Of course, Alpha.”
“Right now, I need a moment to myself.”
Antony nods and steps back. “Yes, Alpha.”
I turn and walk away, heading toward my office without looking back.
----
My desk is covered in documents when I finally sit down.
Trade agreements that need reviewing. Territory patrol reports. Supply requests from the pack’s human-world contacts. A proposal from the council about expanding our forest boundaries. Another proposal about modernizing the pack house.
All of it important. All of it demanding my attention.
I set down my pen and stare at the stack of papers.
None of it pulls at me. Not today.
The age of werewolves is long over. That’s what my father told me when I was young, when I first started asking why we lived hidden in the forest instead of claiming territory the way our ancestors did. The world belongs to humans now, he’d said. We survive by staying apart from it.
So my pack lives here, tucked away in this stretch of forest, invisible to the human cities just beyond our borders. The wolves around me make the best of it. They smile. They find their routines. They tell themselves this is enough.
But I know better.
As Alpha, I see what they don’t say out loud. I see the way some of them stand at the edge of the treeline and stare toward the horizon. I see the restlessness in the younger wolves, the ones who’ve never known anything beyond these trees but who sense, instinctively, that there should be more.
Just like Aria had, once.
She used to sit in the gardens with her medical books, but her eyes would drift toward the forest edge. Toward the road that led to the human world. I’d catch her sometimes, that faraway look on her face, and I’d wonder what she was thinking about.
I never asked. Maybe I should have.
I lean back in my chair, closing my eyes. There’s plenty to do. Stacks of work waiting for me. Responsibilities piling up. I have no desire to do any of it.
Aria.
Her name sits in my chest like a stone I can’t dislodge.
I should have stopped loving her by now. Six years is more than enough time to move on. To let go. To accept that what we had is gone and never coming back.
I shouldn’t still love her.
So why does her name keep rising to the surface, no matter how far down I try to push it?