Chapter 56

I hadn't left my apartment in days. The air was stale, thick with the smell of cold coffee and regret. Simon knocked softly at first, then harder. When I didn't answer, he used the key I gave him for emergencies and came in.

"Amelia," he said quietly, taking in the mess. "Jesus. You look awful."

I didn't even turn my head. "Get out."

He walked in further, voice gentling. "Hey. Talk to me. Please. You can't just stay in here like this."

I pulled the blanket tighter. "You don't know anything."

He sat on the edge of the coffee table. "Try me."

My voice cracked. "He let them humiliate me. He didn't even defend me. Elsa's everywhere. Those photos—"

Simon sighed. "I told you he'd do this. I warned you."

My fingers curled into fists. "You think I don't know? I know he's bad for me. I know. But I can't stop. I can't help it."

His voice grew harsh. "Then stop pretending you're some innocent victim when you keep going back to him."

I sat up, voice shaking. "Don't you dare blame me. He let them call me a whore to my face. He let them call me worthless. He sat there silent. He chose his ambition over me."

Simon glared back. "You knew who he was. You let him in anyway. You can't act surprised now."

I stood up so fast the blanket fell to the floor. "You don't get it! You never did. I can't stop. Because I fucking love him, okay?"

Silence fell like a blow. Simon blinked, swallowing. "Fuck, Amelia."

My voice cracked. "I love him and I hate him because he’s bad for me and I keep letting it happen. I hate myself for it."

Simon looked away, voice breaking. "I can't watch you do this. I can't stand here while you destroy yourself."

I wiped at my eyes furiously. "Then leave. Get out. If you’re just going to watch me fall apart then get the fuck out."

He shook his head like he was trying to clear it. "Fine. Destroy yourself if you want. I can’t help you if you won’t help yourself."

He left without another word, slamming the door so hard the walls rattled. I fell to my knees in the sudden silence, clutching the blanket like armor, sobbing. My wolf whimpered in my head. My voice broke.

"I hate him. I hate him so much." Unsure if I was talking about Richard or Simon. Probably both

After a long time, I pushed myself up and cleaned the tears off my face. My breathing was ragged. The room was too quiet. Simon's words echoed. I paced, arguing with myself, remembering how he'd looked at me like he was mourning me. I threw a mug against the wall and it shattered. I screamed into the empty room until my voice cracked. When I sank to my knees again, the fight was gone out of me. But my heart still hurt like it was being carved out of my chest.

When I finally pulled myself together enough to go to the pack house, I almost made it down the hall before Elsa stepped out of a side room. Arms folded, a smirk sharp enough to cut. "Oh, Amelia. Out of bed at last? I assumed you'd given up on trying to keep your job."

My fingers clenched. "Move." I blinked at her, weirded out that she was saying all of this so bluntly, realizing where Jenny must have gotten it from. Elsa's eyes glittered like she enjoyed watching me squirm. It was like talking to an older, meaner version of her daughter. My mind spun that this was an insane first impression for her to make. I felt humiliated even before she spoke again.

She tilted her head, eyes narrowing. "God, you're dramatic. It's like you're auditioning for the Pack's worst meltdown. I mean, really, this is the first impression you're making after days holed up? It's so pathetic it's almost funny."

Her voice was like poison. "It's cute you thought you could keep him. But you know he needs a proper mate. Not a project."

My voice shook. "Get out of my way."

She stepped closer. "You're done here, Amelia. Everyone sees it. He's not yours. He never was."

I shoved past her, breath ragged, heart pounding. Her laughter chased me down the hall.

Later, I was in the strategy room alone, pretending to study strategy maps. The lines blurred as tears threatened. I heard his voice behind me. "Amelia."

I didn't turn. "What."

"Please. We need to talk."

My voice was ice. "About what? Her? The photos?"

He sounded tired, strained. "It's not like that."

I turned slowly, voice breaking. "Really? Because it looks exactly like that."

He took a step toward me. "I didn't want this. Any of it."

Before I could respond, Elsa breezed in, ignoring me. "Richard. Council's waiting. You ready?"

He closed his eyes, shoulders sagging. "Yeah. I'm coming."

My heart cracked. I pushed past them both without another word.

That night I couldn't stand my empty apartment. The walls pressed in. My wolf whined and snarled inside me. I ended up at the training grounds, moonlight painting the dirt silver. I wrapped my arms around myself, shivering in the cold.

His voice broke the silence. "Amelia."

I didn't turn. "Go away."

His footsteps crunched behind me. "You shouldn't be out here alone."

I laughed bitterly. "Worried about what the Pack will think? That you're playing favorites, letting me on the fancy equipment?"

He exhaled. "You know it's not that."

I spun on him, voice raw. "Do I? Because I don't know anything anymore."

His face twisted. "You know me better than anyone."

My voice cracked. "Is that why it feels like I'm the only one fighting for you?"

He stepped closer, voice dropping. "I'm still here. I'm always here. Even when you hate me."

My wolf clawed at me from the inside, torn between rage and wanting. I hated that part of me that still wanted to close the space between us. That wanted to bury my face in his chest and pretend none of this happened.

He held out a hand. "Train with me. Like before."

We circled each other slowly. The tension between us buzzed like electricity. I could see the way his shoulders tensed, his gaze locked on me. Our breathing was harsh in the cold air. I shifted my weight, he mirrored me, a long tense dance of pushing and pulling.

His voice was low, coaxing, but I snapped at him. He countered with gentle teasing that made my chest ache. I pushed him hard, he grabbed my arm, twisted, breath fanning my face. We moved in close, noses nearly brushing before I shoved him away, breathing hard, eyes burning. The night was quiet except for our breathing. Moonlight caught on his scars. My heart ached. I lunged too hard, shoving his shoulder. He grunted, catching my wrist, twisting.

"Bonded mates always fight hardest," he rasped.

I yanked away. "We're not bonded."

His voice lowered, rough. "No. But sometimes it feels like it. Doesn't it?"

My lips trembled. My wolf howled in my chest, confused and wanting. And even as I glared at him, I hated how badly I wanted to agree.