Chapter 128

Ella

The morning light broke through the thin curtains, casting a pale glow on the cream-colored walls of the hotel room.

My eyes flickered open, feeling the weight of an arm wrapped around me. For a brief moment, I relished in the comfort and warmth that it provided. But then it all came crashing back—what happened last night, how I had allowed myself to lose control, how I had let Logan into my bed.

Regret washed over me like a tide. I couldn’t believe I had allowed things to go so far. Pushing Logan’s arm away, I untangled myself from the bedsheets and sat up abruptly.

Logan stirred, blinking away the haze of sleep. Confusion washed over his face as he saw that I was already standing, frantically gathering my clothes off of the floor and trying to cover myself.

“What’s going on?” he asked. “You okay?”

“Just… get out of my bed,” I muttered, avoiding eye contact.

He paused, but there wasn’t complete surprise in his eyes, maybe just a tinge of disappointment. “You regretting last night?”

I shot him a sharp glance. “Does it matter? It happened. And it’s not happening again.”

Logan sat up, bracing his arms on the edge of the bed. “I enjoyed last night, Ella. And don’t act like you didn’t, too.”

“Sure, it was fun,” I retorted, my voice laced with bitterness. “But it was a one-time thing. I won’t let you touch me again.”

Logan’s eyes met mine. For the first time, I saw a flicker of something that looked like hurt in their blue depths, and it filled me with a pang of something in my chest that I didn’t expect nor recognize.

“Fine,” he said, his voice carrying a chill that hadn't been there before. “Heard you loud and clear.”

Without another word, he got up, gathered his clothes, and left my room. The sound of the door closing behind him echoed in the hotel room, leaving me feeling oddly empty and alone.

“Why did you do that?” my wolf hissed. But I didn’t answer. Maybe it was because I didn’t know.

…

A couple of hours later, we found ourselves in the hotel lobby. The place bustled with other guests checking out or waiting for taxis, but for me, it felt like Logan and I were isolated in a bubble of awkward silence.

I busied myself with my bags, deliberately avoiding eye contact with him. I felt him watching me, likely contemplating whether to break the silence or let it fester. I had half a mind to make some light conversation, to act as if nothing had changed.

But that wasn’t an option, was it? Everything had changed.

As we waited for the airport shuttle, I found myself reflecting on what had happened. Why did I feel so much regret? The physical connection had been real, exhilarating even. But the emotional implications were a mess that I wasn’t prepared to navigate.

Logan was complicated, and so was I. And complications were the last thing I needed in my life right now.

The shuttle arrived, pulling up to the curb with a mechanical hiss. Guests started boarding, their conversations a droning backdrop to my spiraling thoughts.

Logan picked up his bag and slung it over his shoulder. “After you,” he said, gesturing toward the shuttle.

I gave him a curt nod, not trusting myself to speak, and boarded. We sat in separate rows, close enough to touch yet worlds apart.

As the shuttle made its way to the airport, the scenery outside the window blurred into a moving scene of passing cars and billboards. I felt Logan’s eyes on me again, but I remained focused on the world speeding by, a convenient distraction from the conflict rolling around in my stomach.

At the airport, we disembarked and made our way to the check-in counters. Words still hung unsaid between us, a wall neither dared to breach. It was as if we'd entered into an unspoken agreement to bury last night's events under layers of cold detachment.

Finally, we checked in, our bags disappearing on the conveyor belt, carried away just like the remnants of whatever had transpired between us during our weekend trip. We still had time before our flight, time that would be spent waiting in a tension-filled silence.

I finally dared to glance at Logan. Our eyes met, and for a fraction of a second, I saw a glimmer of last night’s vulnerability. Then it vanished, replaced by a cool indifference that mirrored my own.

The tension between Logan and me was so palpable it could be cut with a knife. Ema, however, was ecstatic, practically doing somersaults inside of me.

“You liked it. I know you did,” she purred in my mind. “And you know it, too.”

“Shut up, Ema,” I snapped back internally. “This isn’t something to be happy about. We crossed a line that we weren’t supposed to cross, and now everything is ruined.”

“Ruined? How? Why can’t you just be happy about what happened instead of making a big deal out of it, Ella?”

“Because I can’t afford to fall for Logan,” I thought bitterly. “And you should’ve helped me control myself. Instead, you were the one fanning the flames.”

Ema recoiled as if I had just burned her. “You’re blaming me? After all this time wanting to be loved and give love, you blame me for grabbing an opportunity? You had just as much a hand in it as I did.”

“Opportunity?” I nearly scoffed. “This was a mistake, not an opportunity. And yes, I blame you. I blame both of us.”

“You’ll regret this,” Ema hissed. “Just you wait and see. You’ll regret pushing him away.”

With that, Ema retreated, her presence waning until I felt a void where her presence usually resided. My wolf had gone to sleep, burying herself deep within me.

“Ema?” I called out, feeling myself start to panic ever so slightly at this jarring loneliness and emptiness that was suddenly filling my mind. “Ema, are you there?”

No response. Ema was gone; not just sleeping, but dormant.

Hot tears began to prick at the backs of my eyes, and I felt a shudder run down my spine.

“Ella?” Logan’s voice broke through my train of thought and nearly startled me. I didn’t realize it, but I had been standing in front of the security checkpoint, frozen in place. I whipped my head around to look at him, and quickly blinked my tears away.

“You alright?” he asked.

I nodded firmly and quickly looked away again. “I’m fine.” With that, I stepped through the checkpoint, and it felt as though an integral part of me had been left behind those sensors.

As we headed toward our terminal, Logan tried to catch my eye, probably to break the ice with some insufferable comment, but I was having none of it. I put in my headphones and blasted my playlist.

The heavy beats of the music filled my ears, offering an escape from the emotional turmoil I was trapped in. No matter how much I tried to call for Ema, she wasn’t there. All I could do was hope that, with time, she would eventually return.

We took our seats in the waiting area. Logan sat a few seats away from me, but I could still feel his gaze, those eyes that seemed to see right through me. I turned my face away, pretending to be engrossed in scrolling through my phone.

My fingers stumbled upon something in my pocket then.

It was the brass ring from the carousel. The same carousel where we had let the tension between us slip away, even for just a moment.

I held it tightly, the cool metal pressing against my skin, and tried to keep myself from crying.