Page 103 of His Forsaken Alpha

“Breathing wasn’t easy. The pain of losing you only intensified after I learned you were still alive.” He shook his head. “Although, some of that paindidtransform into rage once I realized you’d faked your death to get away from me.”

Tears shone in Wynter’s gaze. “But I didn’t. Ineverwanted to leave you.”

“But you did leave me, and I mourned you up to the point I saw you again. I’ll never forget the day I looked up and saw the face of a ghost,” Cav said. “And you shattered me a second time, realizing you’d been walking the same earth as I had all that time.”

Wynter sobbed. “I didn’t know about the book tour or that you’d be there that day. I’d never have come had I known.”

“You could’ve told me all this then,” Cav murmured. “You could’ve made things easier, but no, you compounded the pain and said those vile things to me.”

“I didn’t want you to go, Cavanaugh. I wanted to slide into your arms and never let go again… but I was terrified you’d be dead if I did. My only choice was to push you away and make sure you never came back for me. I had to lie… and say things to make you hate me. Otherwise…” Wynter shook his head. “I don’t want to think about otherwise.”

Cav replayed the events of that fateful couple of days. The second time Wynter Jaymes ripped his heart out.

Five years after the supposed death of Wynter Jaymes…

“Your book has helpedmesomuch. The way you describe your grief, it really spoke to me. I lost my omega a couple of years ago, and it’s been so difficult to navigate this new life,” the alpha facing his table said.

“I’m glad this offered you something of value.” Cavanaugh penned an inscription inside the front cover and handed it back, forcing another smile. His face hurt from all the forced smiles—weeks of them, in fact. He’d attempted to get out of a book tour, but his agent and editor had ganged up on him and demanded he go. His publisher was footing the bill, sure they had another bestseller on their hands.

Sales trends proved they might be right. One month out and he’d already landed on two bestseller lists—one in the Palatinate and another in Europa.

“I lived vicariously through your travels. Hearing your story… I just remember thinking, if he made it through, I can, too.”

Nowhere near through. The book’s a big, fucking lie.“Of course you can.Anything’spossible with the right mindset.”

The alpha smiled, waved, departed, and a beta took his place, sliding a copy of Cavanaugh’s bestselling novel down. “This changed my life. Can you sign it with one of your most memorable quotes from the book?”

It’s barely my words anymore. How the fuck do I know what’s inside?“Sure thing.”

He penned one of the quotes his publisher had pulled from it for marketing—amazed he’d remembered it—added his signature and slid the book back. “Thanks for coming out today.”

As the alpha departed, Cav eyed the never-ending line of readers waiting to get their moment with him. He knew he should be excited that anyone had showed up at all, but it was hard to feel much of anything, especially when the book barely resembled what he’d originally written. He felt like a fraud and a hack… especially when so many seemed to have found some sense of enlightenment from it.

All while he still faltered, unable to emerge from the shadows of the past.

Another book was slid in front of him. “This book changed my life…”

Cav slapped a smile on his face, the muscles there already growing sore. An hour passed, well past what was supposed to be the end of his signing. Cavanaugh sipped from his water bottle that wasn’t water, slowly getting more and more drunk as the day passed. His agent and editor frantically worked to wind down the line so he could get the fuck out of there before he lost his shit—they knew what might be coming if he didn’t get out of there within a reasonable time limit. His nerves could only handle so much.

They were nearing the midway point of the tour, and they’d already seen him at his absolute worst. Province to province to province, signing until his wrist hurt, his jaw ached, his liver screamed—and a few times, he showed them the monster within.

Gregory, his agent, meandered closer to his table as he was wrapping up with the last reader of the day. When he was finally free, Cav stretched his arms over his head and leaned back in the chair. “Next book—no signings. I’m done with this crap.”

“Your readers deserve a chance to meet their favorite author,” Gregory said. “It’s good for sales.” He looked Cav up and down. “You’re contractually obligated to finish this book tour, by the way. Don’t fuck this up for us—or I’ll fire you as my client.”

Cavanaugh saw the hint of humor in Gregory’s eyes, but also sensed he best not push the guy too far. “I saidnextbook,” Cavanaugh muttered before draining the rest of his bottle. “I know I have to finish this bullshit parade.”

Gregory grabbed the empty bottle and sniffed. “How much of this was actual water?”

“All of it,” Cavanaugh lied, grinning from ear-to-ear.

“Cav, you look like shit. I cansmellthe alcohol coming off your body. That crap might fly out in the wilds, but here, you need to clean yourself up. Cut the drinking. Get a haircut. And sleep more than two or three hours at night.”

“Who said I wasn’t sleeping?” No point in arguing the rest. He had a mirror in every fucking hotel room he’d stayed in over the course of the tour that reminded him, not that he looked very long. It was too difficult to see what he’d become—a shell of the man he’d once seen.

“I get incoherent emails at all hours of the day and night, so I can only assume you might get a few hours here and there. At least I hope you do.”

He’d not had a decent night’s sleep since before Wynter’s heat. “Inspiration strikes whenever. Time doesn’t matter amid the chaos of writing.”