Chapter 91
Cara’s POV
I’m not ready to be alone with Alaric inside my house again so soon. A public place would be much safer for my willpower and my heart.
So I take Alaric to a nearby coffee shop.
The moment we walk inside, we are greeted with the crisp aroma of fresh coffee and a touch of cinnamon. Someone must be baking cinnamon rolls for the display case.
Talking to Alaric was my idea, but I’m not quite ready for it yet. So I go to the counter and order a cup of coffee. Alaric orders one too and then insists on paying.
“That’s really not necessary,” I tell him.
“Please,” he says, already producing his bank card.
I leave a hefty tip in the tip jar.
Our coffees are given to us in ceramic mugs. Alaric looks at his curiously, perhaps used to the bigger-business coffee shops that hand everything out in paper and plastic. This local shop is much homier than that, and I take comfort in that now, trying to gather strength for the conversation to come.
I sit against the wall, and he sits opposite me. Neither of us has touched our coffees. Now they sit on the table between us, slowly cooling.
“…Cara,” Alaric says.
His words come out all at once, jumbled up like he’s been holding them inside himself for too long, and now they are bursting forth.
“I know you might hate me, but I love you! And I’m not ready to let you go. I’ll do whatever I have to, to win you back, if you would only—”
“—Stop,” I say.
To my surprise, he does so.
Alaric’s posture is tense. He’s waiting for my answer.
I take a deep breath, fully prepared for what I have to say.
I did love him.
Or… maybe I still do.
But I say: “Sorry, Alaric, I’m asking you to let me go.”
Perhaps years ago, I would have been more receptive to his words. But now? After all this time? After all the pain, the years apart, the children…
I say: “Give up on chasing me.”
That’s my final answer.
Alaric stares at me, his expression locked in a mixture of guilt and shock. His piercing blue eyes still make my heart race.
Maybe love still exists between us, but I’ve thought too much—this man is not the person who can stand by my side for a lifetime.
Yes, he is remarkable. He is the Alpha King. He has the kind of looks and aura that make any woman weak in the knees. But I can no longer believe a single word that comes out of his mouth—not even “I love you.”
“Listen, Alaric,” I murmur, staring into my untouched coffee. “I’m too tired. Maybe… maybe I’ve lost the ability to love a man.”
“I—I’m so sorry!…”
Alaric apologizes desperately. “Cara, I’ll do anything to make it up to you. I won’t give up. Believe me, I’ll find a way to make you love me again—”
“Enough,” I say softly.
“You must be out of your mind, being idle here,” he continues, standing up from his seat. “They treat you like a princess, but you can’t be happy doing nothing. Why not come back with me? Return to my side and be my beta again? Everything else can fall into place after that…!”
“—Enough!” I say. “You’re being too loud.”
Alaric’s confused face tightens into a frown. He falls silent for a moment before speaking again, this time in the softest, most bitter voice:
“…You know what will happen if you stay.”
“BloodyMoon is a very traditional pack. As a mate-less princess, you could be forced into a political marriage…”
Marriage with a stranger.
We both know what that means.
But I am not some helpless, unemployed, fragile princess. I have never needed anyone to save me.
In my long life as an orphan, I’ve learned one thing—family members will have their own lives, and friends will move on with theirs. The only person who can save me, who can love me unconditionally, is me.
“Look at me, Alaric.”
I reach across the table and gently cup his face.
“In your eyes, who am I?”
Alaric stares at me, frozen. “Cara…”
“Who was I to you before?”
“My ex-fated mate. My beta.”
I look at him, speaking each word slowly and deliberately:
“Yes. I am Cara. Take a good look.”
“I am the woman who became your beta through my own strength. I am not some helpless princess waiting to be rescued. I am not Lilia.”
“The moment people hear ‘princess,’ they assume I live a luxurious, pampered life. BloodyMoon thinks that. DarkWood thinks that. The orphanage I grew up in thought that. And even you, Alaric.”
I gaze at him with sorrow.
“Maybe what we had was a toxic relationship, but we were together for three years. And look at you—you never truly understood me. What right do you have to say you love me?”
Alaric’s lips tremble. “…Cara, I…”
He leans forward, ready to argue. Cutting him off deflates him somewhat—his nature as Alpha King usually grants him dominance in every conversation.
“If I go back and become your beta again, what would that change?” I ask. “Would I have to marry you? Marry a man who doesn’t understand me, who doesn’t truly love me? Would I have to spend my life chasing after your love—just like before?”
“You need to calm down, Cara,” Alaric says, standing up.
He presses his lips together, as if at a loss for words. He reaches for my hand, but I slap it away.
I use force this time. A faint redness blooms across the back of his hand, but he says nothing.
“I am calm,” I say firmly.
“I regret nothing about our past, Alaric. I don’t regret loving you or making sacrifices for you.” I meet his gaze. “Love is a wonderful, beautiful thing, and neither of us should feel ashamed for having loved.”
“I don’t regret loving you. But do you know what, Alaric?” I take a deep breath. “A woman has the right to choose to love a man—and the right to walk away from a man who is utterly undeserving of her, even if he is her fated mate.”
Alaric’s eyes widen.
“I’ve spent far too much time bound to the past.”
I take the last sip of my coffee.
“From now on, I only want to move forward into the future.”
For too long, I lived my life for Alaric—always hoping to please him, to win his heart, no matter how many times he pushed me away or hurt me, treating me more like an employee than his fated mate.
“Neither of us should be trapped in the past anymore,” I say. “We made the choices that brought us here. Now, we both deserve to be free.”
“…We’re over, Alaric.”
Alaric’s POV
“I want to live my own life.”
Her smile turns sad, melancholic.
And at this moment, I finally realize just how much of a bastard I am.
After being confronted by the Auburn brothers, I started questioning whether I truly loved Cara—or if this was just about my own pride.
On the way to the coffee shop, ordering our drinks, sitting here, listening to Cara… trying to understand her…
I want to be sure. I don’t want to toy with either of our emotions.
Cara’s repeated rejections frustrate me. She has never spoken to me so harshly before. The Cara I knew was always gentle, always forgiving.
“…You never truly understood me.”
Cara accuses me.
“…What right do you have to say you love me?”
She looks at me, sorrow in her eyes.
And suddenly, I remember her as my beta.
Cara was never weak. If she were, she wouldn’t have become my beta in the first place.
Why did I forget how brilliant she was? Why did I overlook so much?
She looks like a queen—radiant, confident, powerful.
And yet… she just said—
We both deserve to be free.
She wants me to be free too. But I—
“…Cara.”
When I finally come back to my senses, her seat is already empty.
“You idiot, she’s been gone for ages!” My wolf, Grey, sneers in my mind. “She tore you apart—how does it feel? This is exactly what you deserve.”
I ignore him.
Instead, I think about the one question Cara left me with:
Do I truly love her…?
I completely understand what she means, yet her words still leave me feeling lost. I can’t tell whether I truly love her or if what I love is merely the Beta Cara—the one who was gentle and devoted to me.
But every time I recall the firmness in her voice and the way she smiled, I can hear my heart pounding fiercely in my chest.
—I can’t find my answer.
But my heart tells me—"I love her!"
I completely understand what she means, yet her words still leave me feeling lost. I can’t tell whether I truly love her or if what I love is merely the Beta Cara—the one who was gentle and devoted to me.
But every time I recall the firmness in her voice and the way she smiled, I can hear my heart pounding fiercely in my chest.
—I can’t find my answer.
But my heart tells me—“Win her back!”
