Page 101 of His Forsaken Alpha

Cav had been made to look the fool too many times as it was. He wasn’t prepared to jump in and say all would be forgiven. He swallowed a sob, his inner alpha demanding he give in and open his arms, regardless of if it were lies or not. To finally have his omega, all to himself, was the only thing he’d ever wanted. The heart wanted what the heart wanted, and his had long been given to Wynter. He’d hated himself for that for far too long and wouldn’t compound his pain by being a lovestruck fool.

Wynter’s face was coated with tears. He’d seemed to have given up wiping them away midway through the story, as it was a losing battle. His omega appeared shattered by the events—and shattered again to relive them, that seemed clear. Cavanaugh’s hands itched to drag the man into his arms and offer comfort, but the pain yawning between them made him clench them into fists at his sides instead.

“The next time, when I saw you was at the signing a few years later,” Wynter added after the silence grew too fraught with their shared torment. “I was elated to see you were alive and well, but at the same time terrified you wouldn’t remain so after seeing me.”

“Alive maybe, but I wasn’t well. I think you realized that.”

Instead of admitting he had, Wynter diverted his gaze, staring instead at a threadbare handkerchief which had clearly seen better days. He tugged it between his narrow hands, as if testing its ability to withstand the torment, or perhaps testing his own. Cav’s gaze washed over the stark lines on Wynter’s face the pain had formed. It took nothing away from his beauty, yet added a sharpness etched upon his soul.

“I haven’t been well in over thirty years, Wynter.” In the grand scheme of things, perhaps his woes were insignificant to what his mate had endured, yet he needed Wynter to acknowledge the pain caused.

Wynter sniffled. “Nor have I. I’ve ached for you for over half of my life.”

The admission was more painful than it should’ve been. He searched Wynter’s face, cast down at that damned handkerchief. Finally, Wynter lifted his gaze and was immediately captured in Cav’s stare.

“Knowing you were out in the world, living some big adventure without me at your side?” Wynter’s face twisted with pain. “It broke me. I loved reading of your exploits all while shattered that I wasn’t there with you, celebrating your successes or holding you through the dark moments.”

“But you were there,” Cav whispered. “Every step of the way. You were never far from my thoughts. Every place I stopped, I wondered ‘what would Wynter have thought about this or that.’ I dreamt of you there with me, of the fights we’d have over me hauling your luggage across the globe or your inability to tip the porter.”

Tears shone in Wynter’s eyes. He snorted. “Who said I don’t tip porters?”

“You never tipped ours.”

“At the end, my dear… but we never made it to the end, did we?”

While the question had been directed on their train travel, it could also be asked for their life and all its interruptions. “Has the end come and gone already?” Cav asked.

Wynter searched his face, eyes widening some. “I don’t know.Hasit?”

Even through their pain, heat blossomed. An undying need pulled them closer—a need that would never be sated—and the yearning burned away some of the cold within. It demanded Cav protect and comfort his mate. His reluctance only made it roar louder in his ears, but he fought the doubt screaming just as loudly. Parts of him hated that the desire still remained. He’d tried to drink it away. He’d slaked his lusts in the bodies of other men, hoping to find one who would hold his attentions long enough to make his errant thoughts disappear. Thoughts of a life diminished and a love ripped from his very fingers.

But it had been all for naught. His singular focus on Wynter Jaymes had still been there, pulsing like a sore tooth within. No one had been able to capture what had been given away so long ago.

“Why didn’t you tell me? When you saw me again?”

“Don’t you think I considered it?”

“I could’ve intervened. Perhaps found a way to spirit you and the children away. We could have run.”

Wynter shook his head. “For years, I’d wondered if there was a way out for us. I played it over and over in my head, but no scenario ever ensured all our safety to the point I was willing to chance it.”

“Two minds are better than one. I might’ve found a way you had never imagined.”

“And all I could imagine was you learning the truth and playing the hero—and ending up dead in the process. The thought of causing your death made me physically ill, Cavanaugh. I wasterrifiedto tempt fate and lose you. If you lived… there was always a chance.”

“A chance? A chance for what?”

Wynter shrugged. “I don’t know. Perhaps too much time and pain has been shared for a chance to still exist now.”

Cavanaugh almost asked the question again. A chance for what? He knew the answer. His heart, mind, and soul screamed it at full volume—but he needed to hear it come from his omega’s lips. He had to know, for certain, that Wynter wanted just as badly.

But the admission never came.

Cavanaugh leaned his elbows on his knees. “It’s hard to reconcile all you’ve just told me.”

Wynter pursed his lips. “You don’t believe me, do you?”

“I didn’t say that—but it’sa lotto digest.” Cav shook his head. “I’ve been so angry for so many years. Not at you as much as what you did to us. For the hell I went through, thinking you were dead. For going back to him. Choosing him over me.”

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