Chapter 15
Giving It All Back
Alexa
I sit beside Gabriel’s bed, lost in thought.
The blond man still has his eyes closed, his breathing steady but shallow.
Two days have passed since that cursed wedding day, yet he hasn’t regained consciousness.
The wound from Harlow’s attack left more than just a mark. It carved something deeper into him.
It makes sense. Harlow tore through a vital point in his neck. If Mrs. Geeny had been even a minute late with the healing ritual, Gabriel would have died. Instead, he lingers here. Alive, but quiet. Suspended between what he was and whatever comes next.
I glance out the window. Night has settled fully, thick and endless, and the clock reads eight in the evening. I’ve been here for thirty minutes, watching him, waiting for something to change. Still, nothing does.
And yet… I stay. The bond pulls at me like a thread I can’t cut. Even after everything, I still care for him.
While Gabriel and Harlow’s case is under review, Mr. Pascoe steps in as acting Alpha. Until the elders reach a final decision, everything remains uncertain. Even my own place here feels temporary. Like I’m standing on ground that might give way at any moment.
So I remain in the packhouse and make my way to the hospital whenever I can.
I tell myself it’s duty. Maybe pity. Maybe something weaker than both.
But I can’t leave him alone. He used to do the same for me when we were children.
Sitting by my bed, reading while I drifted off, cutting apples for me whenever I had a fever.
I press a cold compress to his forehead, wiping away the thin layer of sweat. The moment the chill touches his skin, his body reacts. A faint flinch. Small, but real.
I freeze. His eyelids twitch. Once. Twice. Then they open.
“Nurse! Alpha Gabriel is awake!” I call, my voice cutting through the quiet as I rush to the door. “Nurse!”
“All right. I’ll call the doctor,” the nurse answers.
I return to the chair beside him. His gaze finds mine, fully conscious now. For a second, he doesn’t speak. He just stares, like he’s trying to pull me into focus, like the world hasn’t fully settled back into place yet.
“Alexa…” His voice is hoarse, barely more than breath.
Relief flickers across his face first, raw and unfiltered. It softens something in his expression I haven’t seen in a long time. Then it cracks.
His hazel eyes sharpen, faintly lit by the moonlight slipping through the window. His brows draw together. His breathing falters, but not from pain.
I can see it. His gaze drifts to the ceiling, distant. He remembers. The duel. The broken oath. The humiliation shown in front of everyone.
His fingers twitch against the sheets, like he’s reaching for something that isn’t there anymore.
“Hey. Easy,” I say softly, leaning closer. “You’re safe.”
His eyes don’t leave mine. There’s something fragile in them now. Something stripped bare.
“Why…” His voice cracks. He swallows hard, trying again. “Why are you still here?”
That question lands heavier than anything else. I hesitate, just for a second, before steadying myself.
“You’re hurt,” I say quietly. “That’s reason enough.”
His lips part like he wants to argue. Like he wants to say something sharp, something defensive, something that sounds more like the Gabriel I used to know. But it never comes. Instead, his gaze drops. His jaw tightens.
“I lost,” he murmurs. Not loud. Not angry. Just… hollow.
There’s no pride in his voice now. No arrogance. Just the weight of realization settling in his chest.
“You’re alive,” I answer. “That still counts for something.”
A faint, humorless breath leaves him. Not a laugh. “Does it?” he whispers.
For a moment, neither of us speaks. The consequences hang between us. Lorraine. Harlow. Everything that comes next. But neither of us reaches for it. Not now.
Then his throat works again. “Water,” he rasps.
I move quickly, pouring a glass from the pitcher. I help him sit up, supporting his back as he drinks. His hands tremble slightly around the glass. After a few sips, he starts coughing.
I steady him, rubbing his back. “Slow down.”
The coughing fades. He leans back against the pillows, exhausted from something as simple as breathing. His eyes return to me like he’s searching for an emotion he hoped for.
“Do you…” He hesitates, his voice quieter now. “Do you hate me?”
The question slices clean through the air. I don’t answer right away. Instead, I adjust the blanket over him, giving myself a moment.
“I’m not here to hate you,” I say finally. “You should rest.”
It’s not the answer he wants, and he knows it. I see it in the way his gaze dims. The way something closes off behind his eyes, like a door slowly shutting. But he doesn’t push, not this time.
I guide him back down onto the bed. His breathing evens out slowly, though the tension never fully leaves his body. The doctor arrives not long after, checking his vitals and examining the wound.
“He’s still weak, but the wound is healing well,” the doctor says. “You need to rest, Alpha Gabriel. No talking unless necessary.”
Gabriel nods faintly.
“If anything feels wrong, call for me,” the doctor adds before leaving with the nurse.
I let out a quiet breath. “That’s good news,” I say. “You’ll recover soon. Want to get some sleep?”
He nods again, slower this time. As I shift to stand, his hand closes around mine. Not tight, but enough to tell me he’s afraid I’ll disappear.
I look down at him, then sit back beside the bed. There’s something fragile in his expression. Something unguarded I don’t think I’ve ever seen before.
“Stay with me,” Zeev’s voice brushes against my mind.
“I’m here,” Mythril answers before I can. “I’m not going anywhere.”
I lace my fingers with Gabriel’s. He gives the faintest smile, then closes his eyes again. His breathing evens out soon after. The scent of bergamot and fern lingers in the air, soft and familiar. It tells me he knows I’m still here. That he feels my presence, calming him through this hard time.
My eyelids grow heavy, but my thoughts don’t slow. They drift backward. To when we were children. To everything that followed. Every choice we made, every moment that led us here.
Was any of it ever love? Or just fate twisted into something it was never meant to be?
Tears slip down my cheeks before I can stop them. Regret comes too late to matter. There’s nothing left to change. Because no matter what once tied me to Gabriel, it doesn’t touch what I feel for Harlow.
Not even close.
And when the time comes, I will end this. Even if I have to tear the bond apart with my own hands.
Three more days pass, and Gabriel recovers. He still needs time to heal, but he’s no longer in critical condition. He can eat, even laugh, almost like before.
“Beta Drake showed up with a pile of candy. Can you believe that? He thought sugar would fix me overnight.” He shakes his head, letting out a quiet laugh.
“I know.” I force a small smile.
Our laughter fades. He rubs his eyes and hands me his empty plate. I set it on the bedside table and give him a glass of fresh mineral water.
He drinks, then passes it back. When I return to my seat beside his bed, silence settles between us. He lowers his head, pressing his thumb against each finger, one by one, like he’s counting something only he can feel.
“Something wrong?” I lean forward, studying him.
“No. I just…” His voice drifts off. The pause stretches, heavy. “Didn’t think you’d still be here, taking care of me.”
His words catch me off guard. I wasn’t expecting it. I hesitate, then answer with a small, steady smile.
“Do you remember when we were kids? I used to get sick all the time. Even after my wolf blessing, I was still stuck in the hospital.” My gaze shifts to the wall as the memories surface. “You kept coming to see me.”
Back then, everything had been simpler. Before the betrayal. Before the truth unraveled into something sharp and ugly. Mrs. Gertrude and Lorraine used my weakness, but Gabriel never did.
I used to lie awake at night, whispering prayers to the Moon Goddess, begging for a strong wolf. Now I have Mythril. I don’t even remember the last time I needed a doctor. Everything has changed.
“I never forgot that,” I add with a faint shrug.
He studies me for a moment. “So this is you paying me back?” he asks quietly.
His blond hair is damp, slightly messy. His hazel eyes look dull, worn down. Even his lips have lost their color. For the first time, he doesn’t look like the Alpha everyone fears.
“I’m sorry,” I say, though I’m not entirely sure what I’m apologizing for.
“It’s fine.” His voice softens. “Losing like that… it humbles you. I see my mistakes now.” He pauses, his gaze sharpening slightly. “Still feels like you’re mine, though.”
His hand lifts, brushing against my cheek. I catch his wrist gently. My fingers tighten around his for a second before I guide his hand back down to the bed.
My chest tightens and I almost stop myself. But if I back down now, this pity will only turn to something deeper, and I don’t want that. This is the moment.
“Alpha Gabriel… I’m going to perform the rejection ritual.” I meet his eyes.
“Now?” His voice is low.
I nod.
He inhales slowly, eyes closing for a brief second before he gives a weak nod. “Do it.”
My fingers curl around his. “I, Alexa Dawson of the Silver Moon Pack, reject you, Gabriel Scott. I hope you find peace under the Moon Goddess.”
Silence fills in the room while the clock’s ticking soft and slow. He takes a deep breath before opening his mouth. His gaze meets mine for another long moment.
“I accept your rejection,” Gabriel says.
The moment the words leave his mouth, something snaps inside me. My heart slams against my ribs like it’s trying to break free. Heat surges through my chest, spreading like fire through my veins.
Gabriel groans. I clutch my chest, pressing my fist against it, trying to hold myself together. Pain explodes outward.