Nathan’s POV
The line went dead, but the sound didn’t.
Her voice was still in my ears.
Her loud moans.
The sound of his grunts.
That desperate whisper when she said, "More."
For a moment, I just sat there, staring at the phone like it wasn’t real. The screen dimmed, then went black, but the ache in my chest kept growing.
I didn’t move.
Didn’t blink.
Didn’t breathe.
Ten minutes and forty-seven seconds.
That was how long I’d listened.
I hadn’t meant to. I just wanted to check if she was okay after. But then I heard her moans, and I couldn’t hang up. I told myself I would any second now, but I didn’t. I just sat there, frozen, while the sound of her moans and his grunts resounded through the call.
A bitter laugh left my lips as I shook my head. "You did it, Nathan," I muttered to myself. "You finally learned what it feels like to be the fool."
My wolf was restless inside me, pacing, growling low and angry. "She is still yours."
I pressed a hand against my chest, trying to calm it, but the pain only deepened.
"She’s not mine," I whispered. Saying it out loud hurt worse. "She never was."
The phone buzzed again, her name flashing across the screen. I stared at it, every part of me screaming to answer. To hear her voice. To believe her when she’d say it wasn’t what it sounded like.
But I couldn’t. I couldn’t bear to hear her lie.
The buzzing stopped. Silence returned.
I set the phone down on the desk, carefully, almost too gently, then pushed myself to my feet. The room felt smaller, the air heavy. My reflection in the glass looked like a stranger—eyes red, jaw clenched, heart broken.
"She’s with him," I said softly. "She chose him."
My wolf let out a low, wounded sound—part snarl, part cry.
I wanted to destroy something. To break, to scream, to run until the ache faded. But I didn’t. Instead, I just stood there, watching the night against the window.
A single tear slipped down my cheek before I even realized it.
God, I hated that it did.
I wiped it away fast, but another followed, hot and heavy. Then another. Until my vision blurred completely and I couldn’t hold it in anymore. I let out a shaky breath that broke halfway, my hand gripping the edge of the table until my knuckles went white.
"She let him," I whispered, my voice cracking. "She let him touch her."
The words burned in my throat.
"She let him... make love to her."
Just two days.
That was all it took.
Two days in his house, in his world, and she gave him what I’d been dreaming of for years. What I thought was waiting for me.
I closed my eyes, but the sounds wouldn’t stop replaying. Her moans, her breathless pleas. Each memory stabbed deeper.
"Maybe she’s already chosen," I said under my breath, bitter laughter bubbling up again but dying before it left my chest. "Maybe it was always him."
My wolf growled, low and broken. "No. She’s ours. She’s lying to herself."
"Stop," I muttered. My voice came out rough, like sandpaper scraping glass. "Just stop. She’s not ours. Not anymore."
But my heart wouldn’t listen.
It thudded in my chest, heavy, stubborn, refusing to let go.
Her hand came to rest on my shoulder. "No," she said quietly, "this isn’t stress. This is heartbreak."
I stiffened, but she kept talking, her tone both sad and full of concern. "I heard a rumor," she said softly. "And I prayed it wasn’t true. But now, seeing you like this..."
I looked up sharply. "What rumor?"
She sighed, her eyes full of sympathy. "That Hailee is back."
The name alone made my chest tighten again. I couldn’t even bring myself to answer.
"I knew it," she said, her voice softening further. "She’s the only one who can make you look like this. Just a few days back, and she’s already breaking you again."
"Mother..." I started, but she raised a hand gently to stop me.
"I always supported your love for her," she said, her voice steady but sad. "I saw how you looked at her, how she made you better, stronger. I believed she was your destiny." She paused, her gaze dropping to my trembling hands. "But right now... I think she doesn’t deserve you, Nathan."
I stared at her, unable to speak.
"She’s not the same girl you loved," my mother continued. "And you—" her eyes filled with concern, "—you are an Alpha. You can’t afford to be this weak, not for someone who can’t even choose you."
Her words cut deep because I knew she was right, and yet, they hurt all the same.
She reached for my hands, took them gently in hers, and kissed them. "Please, my son," she whispered. "Let her go. Before she destroys you completely."
For a long moment, neither of us spoke. I just sat there, my head bowed, her hands still holding mine.
When she finally stood, she gave me one last pitiful look, then turned toward the door.
"I’ll be in my room," she said quietly. "Try to rest. Don’t let this consume you."
And then she was gone.
I turned toward the mirror, staring at the hollow-eyed man looking back at me.
Maybe Mother was right.
Maybe it was time to let her go.

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