SHANE BLACKTHORN

I stir awake to the comfort of my own bed. Light streams through the windows, casting soft patterns on the floor. A heavy weight presses on my hand, and the room feels cold.

Fully opening my eyes, I see Leah seated on the floor beside me, her head resting on my hand. Dried streaks of makeup mar her face, remnants of tears long shed.

Gently, I brush stray strands of hair from her face, careful not to wake her. Even in sleep, the worry etched into her features is unmistakable, and guilt gnaws at me. I can never return her feelings the way she wants. I never could.

The moment my hand grazes her skin, she stirs, eyes fluttering open. She jolts upright, fully awake, grabbing my hand and pressing it to her cheek. She nuzzles against it, and the gesture turns my stomach. How can she still care so deeply when she knows where my heart truly lies?

"I was so worried," she whispers, turning to press a kiss to my palm. It lingers too long, and I try to pull away, but she clutches me in a tight embrace, her body trembling as quiet sobs escape.

"Are you okay?" I ask, prying her off to get a better look. Tears stream down her face, and my chest tightens painfully at the sight.

Her eyes search mine, and instinctively, I reach to wipe her tears away. The need to comfort her is foreign, unsettling. I've only ever felt this way before with Millie.

"I'm sorry," Leah says, her voice trembling. "I was just so worried about you... that our last memory would be us, fighting about Millie." I found her reaction a little dramatic, I was fine, probably just fainted from overstimulation.

I stay silent, unsure of how to respond. Finally, I manage, "I'm sorry too."

She shakes her head, tears still falling. "Shane, I don't care about anything else. All I care about is you. I've always just cared about you." Her voice is raw with emotion, and though I've always known, hearing it now makes my heart race.

"Leah... I—"

"Shh," she cuts me off, shifting closer until her forehead rests against mine. "I know what you're going to say," she breathes, her warm breath fanning my face.

I look down at her lips, inches from mine— soft, full, and tempting. The swell of her breasts rises and falls, spilling over the low-cut shirt she wears, her skin warm against me, her essence, the one she shared with Millie filling my nostrils. A painful ache builds in my core, desire stirring despite everything. What the hell is wrong with me?

Millie still lives in the back of my mind, my feelings for her unchanged. But right now, I'm in a haze. The only thing that seems to matter is the pull of lust for Leah.

She grazes my lips with her fingertips, parting them slightly, her eyes locked onto mine. Our bodies are pressed together, the heat between us undeniable. "Shane, I love you," she whispers, her voice steady, "mate bond or not."

"Leah...I...."

"You don't feel the same," she cuts me off, nuzzling her forehead against mine. "I know."

Her voice trembles, but she forces a smile.
"I've accepted that," she continues, tracing slow, lazy lines along my arm. "Seeing you unconscious made me realize something: I want to see you happy and healthy, even if it's not with me." Her voice breaks on the last part, turning into a whisper.

I stare at her, wide-eyed. "What does that mean?"

"It means I'm ready to reject our bond," she says softly, pulling back just enough to meet my eyes. "If that's what you want."

"You were adamant you'd never do it," I reply, suspicion creeping into my voice. "What's changed?"

She exhales shakily. "I realized it's pointless. Fighting for someone who will never love me back... My mother fell in love outside her mate bond. It hurts, but I have to accept that you have, too." She pauses, her smile hollow. "I thought I needed to keep you by my side. But seeing you fall made me realize... it doesn't matter if I sit beside you or watch from the crowd. All I want is for you to be happy and alive."

Something about her words feels wrong, too polished. I don't trust her. Not anymore. Wolves had speedy healing compared to humans and she knew this, and now she expects me to believe she just magically changed her mind because I fainted. Something definitely wasn't adding up.

The innocent Leah I'd known since childhood had been replaced by something else-someone else. My mind flashes to the day we went for fittings, the smile she wore when Eskelois attacked her.

She's planning something. I just don't know what.

"What did you say to Eskelois to make him snap?" I ask, my voice cold.

Her expression shifts for just a moment before she forces innocence. "I.. I don't know what you're talking about."

"I saw you," I bite out, pushing myself up from the bed. "That smile on your face— you provoked him."

Her eyes widen, a tremble in her voice.
"What are you saying, Shane? Are you accusing me of wanting him to kill me?"

"Stop playing innocent!" I roar, slamming my fist into the wall. The plaster cracks, bits of it crumbling to the floor. Leah rushes to me, grabbing my arm, checking for injuries, but l yank it away.

"What are you accusing me of?" she pleads, her eyes glossy with unshed tears. "Talk to me, Shane!"

I can't. I'm spiraling, heat coursing through me, suffocating. My throat burns, my heart feels like it's caving in, but all I see in my head are flashes of Millie.

Leah's affecting me-was this the mate pull? Why now? It hadn't controlled me like this before. Is this why Kygaras' grip is so strong? The primal urge to protect her, my mate?

Is that why I blacked out when Eskelois died? I would never have killed him willingly. He was the last of the Valkera family-except for Tristan, who vanished after rejecting the throne.

"Hey, hey... should I call Rikki? You look flushed," Leah says, her voice distant. But I'm not listening. Not to her. Not to anything.

My breath quickens as Leah's scent fills the air—a sweet, intoxicating mixture of wildflowers and warmth. Her body presses against mine, her soft lips so close, and before I can stop myself, I crash into her, my mouth devouring hers. The kiss is desperate, hungry, my hands tangling in her hair, pulling her closer as if she's the only thing keeping me grounded.

Her lips part beneath mine, and I deepen the kiss, the taste of her overwhelming me. My hands roam her back, feeling the curve of her spine, the heat radiating from her skin. She moans softly into my mouth, her fingers sliding into my hair, pulling me closer, and my body ignites in response. Every nerve feels alive, the mate bond surging like fire through my veins.

Yet, even as I lose myself in the kiss, Millie's face lingers in my mind. Her smile, her voice, her touch-everything about her haunts me. I'm kissing Leah, but my heart still belongs to Millie. My mind screams for me to stop, but my body betrays me, craving the comfort Leah offers.

Tearing away from her lips, I pant, my forehead resting against hers. "Shane," Leah whispers, her voice tender and concerned, noticing my erratic breathing. Her hands tremble against my chest.

"What's wrong?" I push her away, my hands shaking.

"Please... leave," I beg, my voice strained, filled with torment.

Her eyes widen, confusion and hurt flashing across her face, but she nods, stepping back. Without another word, she turns and walks toward the door, leaving me alone with my unraveling thoughts. As the door closes behind her, I feel the crushing weight of my guilt.

"Verran!" I yell, my voice echoing through the room, but it dies in the silence as I remember-Verran isn't here anymore. I have no one to turn to.

Frustration bubbles over, and I scream again, "Guard!" My voice echoes, and the heavy door creaks open, revealing a young man with wide eyes and an awkward stance. He's one of the noble families' sons, clumsy and good at nothing, yet eager to please. I force myself to calm down.

The boy bows hastily. "Yes, Alpha?"

"This is a discreet assignment," I say, my voice low and commanding. "No one must know about it."

The boy nods eagerly, his eyes bright with the chance to prove himself. I grab a quill and parchment, scribbling quickly. I fold the letter, seal it with wax, and hand it to him.

"Take this to Caelum. He should be at this address," I instruct. The boy's eyes light up at the prospect, practically glowing with pride.

As he reaches the door, my voice booms, cold and firm. "Remember, discreet."

He stiffens, nodding fervently before disappearing into the hall. Alone again, I collapse onto the bed, my hands massaging my temples as I struggle to regain control of my spiraling thoughts.

My mind drifts back to Verran. I miss the efficiency, the quiet competence. This boy, though bright-eyed and eager, is no substitute. The room feels suffocating as the weight of my actions crashes down on me, the mate bond twisting inside me like a knife.

I knew I was losing my mind, because even now, after what I had just done, the only thought that consumes me is the fact that I would go to hell and back just for a glimpse of Millie fucking Brown.....

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Too tired for an authors note, pls don't forget to vote and comment.... Love y'all, good bye.