Page 115 of His Forsaken Alpha

But after the ugly words he’d said and the pain he’d caused, there was no way back to Wilder Cavanaugh. Wynter would have to learn to accept his lot in life and make the best of it. So, that’s what he did. He shoved the pain of Cavanaugh as deep as it would go and busied himself pretending to be the loving omega he couldn’t be for his true alpha. It started with brunch at the club twice a week and mingling with the upper crust of Alexandria. Tennis lessons came every Thursday, and then he learned to golf. Soon, he was chairing charity galas and he and Warden were invited to every party, picnic, and dinner party.

He became quite the little actor—to those on the outside—and eventually, he even believed his own lies. Fake it ‘til you make it was all too real. It took him too long to realize he’d become his own papa, wrapped up in a world he’d never wanted to become a part of, but by that point, he was too far deep and there was no way out.

His apparent acquiescence seemed to please Warden and in time, they learned to live peacefully side-by-side, for the most part.

That was, until the past came back to haunt them.

14

Present Day

“Itold myself I was going to clean up, but I ultimately spent the next two years in a drink-filled haze. Worse than it had ever been,” Cav muttered, the memory of that period indistinct and shapeless. It was meant to be, the pain of finding—and once again losing—his mate had struck hard. Early on, he’d bounced violently between emotional states, one minute rage-filled, another despondent. Cav had sought solace at the bottom of a bottle once more, leaving whole weeks and months blank in his memory. Call it weakness, but an emotionless haze had felt like paradise comparatively.

“Eventually, Ididclean myself up. Stopped drinking and returned to the remains of the cabin. I needed to face what had happened there so I could move on. I went to the courthouse and the Guard station, looking for the files so I could figure out how you did it—but all the records were either sealed or missing. I interviewed a few of the firefighters and a guy at the morgueand pieced a few things together when they said too much, either verbally or not, but never got enough to get a clear picture.”

“Your guesses turned into your next bestseller,” Wynter murmured. “I saw the parallels of our story there.” Wynter pursed his lips and looked away. “From what I hear, yourbestbestseller.”

“You read it?”

Wynter balked. “Of course I read it. I’ve read everything you’ve ever published.”

Cav held his omega’s stare, finding some small comfort in that knowledge.

“Mybestbestseller? Perhaps. A departure, they called it. If only they knew that it was all based on a true story. No one would’ve believed me.” He’d started sketching out timelines, trying to determine how and why it had all happened. The writer in him hadn’t been able to leave an outline blank, and as he’d filled it in with the memories of their time together, it had become a mixture of truth, his assumptions, and a fictional happy ending he never expected to see for himself. At least the fictional him would get one. It seemed better than nothing.

Yet, even his story hadn’t worked out. He’d had to change bits and pieces of the truth to fit his narrative—the only one which had made any sense to him. After hearing Wynter’s side, the pieces began to slide together in his mind, giving him a better picture.

“I heard you sold the rights to Omegawood, but I never saw a movie that was released.”

As if there would’ve ever been anyone as ravishing as Wynter who could’ve ever filled that space on screen.“No. They flew me in, and several producers tried to woo me—but none had the right vision for it.” He cringed, recalling their ideas. “They wanted to turn Arion into a villain. They said he was too morally gray for the screen.”

“You mean me,” Wynter whispered. “IknowArion was me.”

Cav winced inwardly. As angry as he’d been, he’d been unable to cast the man into the role of a villain in his life, either. “For some reason I couldn’t let that happen.” He smiled sardonically. “My publisher wasn’t happy I refused to approve any of the deals, that’s for sure. I’m just glad my agent had negotiated my approval for film and television rights into my contracts. Otherwise, they would’ve sold the rights without my two cents… and the world would hate Arion, I’m sure.”

Silence fell between them.

“How’d you do it? Get clean?” Wynter asked.

“On one of my grand adventures,” Cav murmured. “I got so wasted in this little fishing village on the coast of the Darden Sea that I nearly died of alcohol poisoning. When I woke up, I was in this little monastery high up on the cliffs. There was nothing of the outside world there. Only betas, seeking enlightenment. There was no alcohol, either, so I tried to leave, but we were snowed in for winter. I detoxed waiting for the snow and ice to melt—and I found a measure of peace by the time it did. I thought I had finally moved on, but as soon as I left the monastery, the memories sank their claws into me once more. That’s when I decided to return and unravel the mystery, hoping answers might allow me closure—but there was no unraveling to be done. Not enough to satisfy me, at least.”

“Hopefully, I’ve given you that closure. I wish it could’ve come sooner, before you’d suffered so much as you have.”

Cav held Wynter’s gaze, wondering if it would be enough to bury the past once and for all. His mind replayed his omega’s story again. There was no way Wynter had had time to plan that escape thirty years ago, that he’d always been sure. Cav had long assumed Wynter had help, but he’d never sussed out who. Wynter had come from money, so his parents having that kind of power wasn’t completely out of plausibility.

Yet learning that they might both be the victims of Wynter’s papa’s machinations … he didn’t know what to do with that. The body held onto trauma, and there was almost a form of muscle memory in the anger he’d directed at Wynter for so many years. Like a broken bone that had never been set correctly, his pain would need to be rebroken and forced back into place if he might ever see chances of healing.

Hadn’t he been broken enough as it was?

Refocusing his pain and anger elsewhere wouldn’t be easy, and that was if he believed the story Wynter shared. Down deep, he sensed he did, but allowing himself to fully trust again would be equally difficult.

If Wynter wasn’t the villain… that opened himself to a glimmer of hope.

Hope was a dangerous thing, and he was terrified to allow it to grow one more time. He’d only end up shattered once more.

“What of Wilder? Your son,” Cav clarified, clenching his jaw before continuing. “You never mentioned him in all this—other than there was a chance you walked away from me pregnant.”Cav sensed he knew that answer, but he needed to know for certain.“Is he mine?”

“He is,” Wynter murmured. “Wilder is your son.”

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