Chapter 147

Asher

Maybe we shouldn’t even be friends.

Even as I said it, I didn’t mean it, but once the words were out, it was too late. Cynthia was so expressive. She didn’t hide things like I did. She projected her hurt across her entire body, stepping back from me like I had physically struck her.

I hadn’t meant it. But I was so angry.

Why couldn’t she see what was best for her? If she continued this ill-fated pursuit of the transfer exam, she would spend the next month stressing and studying, and in the end, when she failed, she would be depressed.

She’d accused me of being controlling, words that rattled me more than they should have. Maybe I was, but only because I did know more about this than she did. I knew the transfer exam was difficult, even for the scholarly students.

I wanted her to be realistic. I wanted to protect her from the pain of failure.

It was better for her to accept that the transfer exam was impossible, and use this time to plan her actual future before the baby arrived. As it was, she was wasting valuable time chasing unrealistic dreams.

She’d also accused me of not respecting her decisions, but how could I, when she was being so delusional?

After a long moment, she lifted her chin in defiance, her fight returned. “Maybe I’ll date other people, after all.”

The words sliced through me, but that’s what she wanted: a reaction. I wouldn’t give her one.

“Go ahead,” I said, like I didn’t care, even as my wolf rampaged within me.

“Ours,” the wolf cried. “You are hurting our mate!”

“She deserves the hard truth,” I told my wolf, inside my mind. But really, we felt past that. Now all we seemed to want to do was see who could hurt each other the worst.

I wanted to calm down, but I couldn’t. If she would just stop being so damned unreasonable, then we could sit down and have a proper discussion.

She’d back down first. She had to.

I was right. She’d see that soon.

“You can’t mean that,” Cynthia said. Tears welled in her eyes, which struck me in my chest, but her lips snarled, keeping me from saying or doing anything about it.

“Why not?” I said.

She swallowed hard. Those tears were falling now.

Regret gripped around my heart and squeezed. I was trying to protect her, but maybe I was being too harsh.

I just wanted to wake her up, I didn’t mean to cut her down.

But what could I do? I was right. I couldn’t back off of that and lie to her.

“I guess this is it, then,” she said.

“I guess it is.” I couldn’t go back.

She shook her head. “I hope you know what you are giving up for the sake of your foolish pride.”

“You are the one too proud to see your own faults, Cynthia. If you could, you’d see that I’m not in the wrong here.”

She scoffed. “I can’t believe I ever thought you were special. I should have known right away that you were like all the rest. Controlling. Domineering. Your way or nothing, huh?”

I wouldn’t dignify those kind of remarks with a reply. She knew that wasn’t true. She had to, after all this time.

But my silence only further fueled her resolve and she stormed past me, headed for the door. “Goodbye, Asher.” She opened the door. “And good riddance!” She slammed it closed behind her.

I forced myself to stand very still, when my every instinct demanded that I chase after her and apologize.

Apologize for what? I was right. Did she want me to lie to her? To pretend like I thought she could somehow manage to study enough to do what no one else in the history of the Academy had ever done?

She needed to be realistic. And if I had to be cruel to get her to wake up, then so be it. I could be the bad guy.

Sudden pain made me look down where I had accidentally clawed my fingers into my biceps from holding on too tightly. I released my arms and held my hands at my sides. When it didn’t feel like enough, I walked to my desk and gripped the edge of it.

Anything to keep me from running after Cynthia.

My wolf growled in disapproval. “We hurt our mate. We must follow. We must make things right!”

“No,” I said. “Not this time.”

“She said she would date others! We cannot allow –”

“She doesn’t belong to us.” I couldn’t keep the bite from my voice. “She can date whoever she wants. She always could.”

“She said she wouldn’t, but now you’ve pushed her away!”

“She needed pushed. You heard the foolish things she said.” I shoved away from the desk. Restless, I paced the room. “I couldn’t keep her if I had to lie to her. She’d hate me for it.”

“Now she hates us anyway,” my wolf said miserably.

I stopped, realizing the truth in his words. The way she’d spoken, the way I had replied…

We had truly broken up.

My body ached, begging follow her, but I tensed every single muscle, stopping myself.

Maybe I had been too cruel, but I was right. I couldn’t back down, no matter how much I wanted to. I’d never respect myself again.

“Prideful,” my wolf whispered. “This will be your undoing.”

“What do you know?” I snapped, not wanting to believe it. Though secretly, in the depths of my heart, I knew my wolf was right.

I had to get out of here. I couldn’t follow Cynthia. I couldn’t apologize. But I couldn’t just stand here.

An hour ago, I had Cynthia beneath me on that bed, moaning.

Now I was alone, and she never wanted to see me again.

Adrenaline pumping, I surged from my room and ran all the way to the hockey weight room.

A heavy punching bag hung from the ceiling in the far corner of the room. I stormed toward it, passing a few teammates who took one look at me and slunk away.

Furious and devastated at once, I could only imagine the kind of hell I looked like.

At the bag, I threw several punches. One after the next after the next.

I thought of myself, the things I said, the way I had made Cynthia cry. If I had been anyone else in that moment, I would have torn them to pieces.

I couldn’t do it then. But I could now, imagining I was this punching bag.

Hit after hit, I threw my full strength at the bag. My knuckles split open, but it wasn’t enough.

I had been right about everything, but I had still hurt Cynthia. I deserved to feel pain.

Again and again, punch after punch. My wolf rippled under the surface of my skin, furious. Too easily, he pushed through, taking over.

And suddenly, the punching bag had split in half, spilling sand down onto the ground and up against the wall where the bottom of the bag had landed.

I stared at the damage and still wasn’t satisfied.

I didn’t feel any better at all.

In fact, I only felt worse.

I had destroyed this bag, like I had destroyed my relationship with Cynthia. Now both in tattered pieces on the floor.

And there was no going back.