Page 20 of His Forsaken Alpha

Stone. It turned me into stone.

Just as my papa always wanted.

Then why do I still feel the weight of his disapproval?

Wynter chuckled, the sound foreign to his own ears. “Maybe Iwasa monster.” He closed the gap between him and Wilder and placed his palm on his son’s chest, the heartbeat underneath sturdy.“Youwere the one I wanted. You. Just you.”

“What are you talking about?” Wilder asked, gripping Wynter’s wrists and frowning down at him.

I should tell him. All of it. He should know that Warden wasn’t his father.

Wilder’s gaze flipped up and away from Wynter, his face suddenly growing ashen. The heartbeat under Wynter’s touch quickened.

Did I say that out loud, too?

Wilder gasped, gazing at something over Wynter’s head. He turned to see what had caught his son’s attention.

A familiar face appeared.

A face from his dreams…and nightmares.

No. Not yet.

I’m not ready to face you yet.

He turned and faced his past, wondering if it was another hallucination, only his son’s reaction seemed to signal it wasn’t. The man strode closer, each step a knife to Wynter’s chest. He inhaled against the tide of remembrance, the pain twisting that blade even more. Warden was barely in the ground, yet Wynter’s past had already arrived to haunt him.

So why did a thrill rise up his spine?

He came.

He really came.

“What areyoudoing here?”

Cavanaugh eyed Wynter up and down, a hint of the old desire seemingly visible in his gaze. One look and Wynter’s body quickened. Want burned in his veins, and it made him sick to feel it, only because he knew the love he also harbored wouldn’t be reciprocated.

Couldn’t be… not after all that had happened.

He’s barely changed. Stillsohandsome.

Does he hate me? Of course he does.

“I heard the news and I… I don’t know why, but I came. I’m… I’m sorry for your loss, Wynter.”

Wynter ambled closer to the man, the longing to melt into the alpha’s strong arms throbbing within, yet… he couldn’t. Not that he didn’t want to be coddled in the man’s embrace but the fact he’d likely be denied the pleasure. There was too much hurt lingering between them.

Yet he came.

For me.

He searched Cavanaugh’s face, slipping once again into the past. What could have been. His heart sped, his stomach knotting.

Why couldn’t I choose him?

He unknowingly took one more step closer, the need to touch Cavanaugh and assure himself it wasn’t a dream screaming in his veins. Someone behind him cleared their throat and Wynter suddenly remembered they had an audience surrounding them. An audience who had eyes and could clearly see the man’s familiar face.

He gasped inwardly, realizing someone could be watching. Wynter scanned the cemetery but noticed no one nearby. It didn’t mean there wasn’t someone keeping tabs on them.

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