Page 45 of Betrayed Auctioned Mate

I freeze in place, my hand hovering over the handle. I don’t turn around, but I hear her footsteps approaching, slow and hesitant. A part of me dares to hope she’s about to say something that will make this all right. Something that might put us back together.

I hear her sigh, and then she speaks again.

“Thank you for being honest.” A long pause. “And I... I believe you, when you say you care about me. But I need more time.”

Living a life like mine, you learn a lot about bracing myself for the pain—and there, there it is. It hits me all at once. Pain like being crushed by an anvil. I knew this was coming. I knew it was too much to hope for forgiveness so soon. But hearing it still hurts.

I finally turn around to face her. She’s standing only a few feet away from me, her arms still curled around herself asif trying to shield herself from the cold. Her eyes shine with wetness in the dark.

“I’m sorry,” I say again, my voice low. “I never wanted to hurt you, Keira. I just... I couldn’t let them—”

“I know,” she cuts me off gently. “I know you were trying to protect me. But that doesn’t change what happened—what happened now or back then. I need time to figure out how I feel about all of this. About us.”

The word lingers in the air between her and me, heavy with meaning. There is still something there, betweenus,even after everything. But it’s fragile, uncertain, faltering like a baby bird. I’m terrified we’ll smother it before it can fly.

Slowly, almost without thinking, I take a step closer to her. Her breath catches. For a blissful, unreal moment, I think she might let me close that final distance between us.

Our eyes lock, and there’s a second where everything else fades away. The past, the pain, the present—none of it matters. The bond between us hums with energy, tugging us. Briefly, it’s like we might actually bridge that impossible gap.

Keira pulls away.

She steps back. The cold night air rushes in to fill the newly reiterated space between us.

“I can’t,” she whispers, shaking her head. “Not yet.”

I wish I could nod or say it’s alright. I can do neither.

Keira gives me a small, sad smile, and then, without another word, she turns and disappears through the door leading back inside.

Chapter 23 - Keira

I woke the following morning in my bed with a strange, severe surge of pride.

Yes, Keira, yes!I held my own. Despite how badly I wanted him on that rooftop, I held my own and stepped away—I didn’t let him kiss me. It was a superhuman effort, yet I made the right decision.

Olivia will be proud of me, for sure. My head may still be pounding with exhaustion and anxiety, but it’s a new day, and I’m determined to get back on track with my work.

The weeks that follow are a blur.

We slip into a routine. There are missions to be planned and piles of intel to be analyzed, and it’s all hands on deck in the pack center for days on end. No matter when I enter the meeting room—three in the morning or one in the afternoon—at least one other person is at work in there, hunkered down over a laptop or some papers, ID-ing suspects from around the region or scanning CCTV files.

I do my best to sleep as much as I can. My body needs it. Sometimes, I try to figure out what comes next, but those instances are fleeting and sparse. My brain can’t hold all of this and the question of my future at once.

Maybe that’s the point.

Byron and Olivia stopped hovering once I asked them to. Things are still very awkward around the team. Nobody seems to know what to say to me. But Ado is no longer lurking like a stranger in the building like he was when we weren’t speaking.

I force myself not to ignore or avoid Ado. It’s an undeniable truth that I need him, and he needs me. Even if it’s only for the mission.

Of course, it’s not only for the mission. But as far as I’m concerned right now, the mission is all that matters.

We speak solely about our work, and even that is slow and cautious. There are still moments when the sheer enormity of what happened to me (and to us) feels overwhelming. But I’m learning to breathe through it.

I hold tight to the small things, despite myself. When we pass each other in the hallway, and I catch his eye, it’s like conducting electricity—it shoots through me right into the ground. How can one man’s eyes hold care like that, concern, tenderness? He’s giving me space, even though I know it’s killing him not to close the distance. I see it in everything he does.

Training makes me feel like I’m back in my body again. I spar with Percy in the mornings, when he can get away from the baby for an hour or two. He tells me about fatherhood, and we mostly talk about Veronica, who I think I adore almost as much as he does, the superhero she is.

There are easy days and hard days, of course. I travel with a few team members to set up additional cameras on Attlefolk—zero risk, I am assured, and I know it’s true. We’re out in the swampy woods, crouched low in the brush as we observe the hideout where we know they hunker down for the night when they dock here.

---