Page 60 of The Alpha's Fallen Spell
Pride swells in my chest, even as a bittersweet ache spreads beneath it. “You did,” I agree softly. “You’re remarkable, Fiona.”
She smiles now, a genuine smile that transforms her face. “Thank you. But that’s why I can’t go back with you. That’s why this”—she points at me and then herself—“can’t happen.”
“Why not?” I ask, unable to keep the desperation from my voice. “If you’re well, if you’re thriving—”
“My wolf is buried too deep now,” she says, a sharp edge to her voice. “The treatment has pushed it down so far it may as well be gone. Who would you even be mating with, Erik? The human woman standing before you has a wolf so dormant, it can’t bond with yours.”
The revelation stuns me into silence, while the implications hit me like a tidal wave. No wonder she has survived when the others haven’t. She’s not fighting an internal battle anymore. She’s essentially human again.
“But it could be reversed,” I say, hope flaring. “If you stopped the treatment—”
“Why would I do that?” she cuts in, her tone icy. “To become the broken experiment you rejected? No thanks.”
“And you’re not sick? Not fading?”
“I still cough blood sometimes,” she confesses. “But it’s less frequent, less severe. I’ve figured out how to manage it. In every other way, I’m healthier than I’ve ever been.”
I take a step closer, drawn to her in spite of everything. Her scent hits me—different without the wolf, but still unmistakably hers—and my body responds with a rush of heat I can’t control. Her pupils dilate slightly as I move closer, betraying her own reaction despite her hostile demeanor.
“Fiona, I don’t care if your wolf is dormant or not. I care about you. I want another chance.”
“To do what?” she asks with a bitter laugh, holding her ground. I can see the pulse quickening at her throat, though. “To protect me? To make me your responsibility? To ease your guilt?” Her voice hardens. “Did you not realize that you didn’t want to deal with a broken mate until it was too late?”
I flinch at the accuracy of her accusation. “That’s not—”
“Isn’t it?” she cuts me off again. “You couldn’t handle someone needing you emotionally. You couldn’t be bothered with the mess of healing someone who was traumatized. It was easier to reject me than to deal with my damage.” Her eyes flash with anger. “Does Elina know you’re here? Chasing after the girl you threw away?”
“There is nothing between Elina and me,” I insist, frustration bleeding into my voice. “There never was. If you’d just let me explain—”
“I’m not interested in what you have to say,” she tells me, a mocking smile on her lips. “Or in Elina. Or in whatever you two had or didn’t have. That’s what I’m trying to tell you. I’ve moved on. Completely.”
For a moment, I think I have a chance. “If that’s the case, if you don’t care, then why even bring her up?”
“Because I want you to understand just how completely I’ve left that life behind,” she snaps, taking another step forwarduntil we’re close enough that I can feel the heat radiating off of her. “I don’t think about you. I don’t think about her. I don’t think about any of it.”
But her body betrays her. I can hear her heartbeat accelerating, see the flush creeping up her neck, smell the subtle changes in her scent that tell me she’s not as indifferent as she claims. My wolf stirs, responding to her proximity and ignoring her words.
“You’re lying,” I say quietly.
Her eyes flash with anger. “Excuse me?”
“You do care,” I press. “You wouldn’t be this angry if you didn’t.”
“Don’t flatter yourself,” she snarls, but she doesn’t step back. “I’m angry because you waltz in here after a year, expecting what? That I’d fall at your feet in gratitude? That I’d be so desperate for your approval, I’d abandon everything I’ve built?”
“That’s not what I want,” I say, fighting the urge to reach for her. Being this close to Fiona after so long is intoxicating, maddening. “I just want a chance to know you. The real you. The person you’ve become.”
Fiona laughs, the sound harsh and brittle. “You had your chance. You decided I wasn’t worth the effort.”
“I was wrong,” I admit again, forcing myself to meet her gaze directly. “I was a coward. I was afraid of what loving you would mean, what it would cost me.”
“And now?” she challenges.
“Now, I’d give anything for another chance,” I say simply. “Anything.”
She studies me, her expression unreadable. “Well, that’s too bad. I do appreciate what you did for me. You saved me from the forest, gave me sanctuary when I needed it most. But you didn’t fix me, Erik. I fixed myself. And the person I am now—theone I fought to become—deserves more than being your second choice.”
“You were never my second choice,” I protest.
