Mated To The Cold Hearted Alpha
Chapter 25

Ever just stood, staring at me silently, his expression a mixture of frustration and lost hope. Because he too knew the answer, she would never believe me. I said quietly, “You need to go home. It’s been a week since Gwen finished her heat. She’s going to need you tonight.”

Now his expression looked pained for an entirely different reason. His mate had finished her heat seven days ago, and within hours, he would either scent a pup in her belly, or she would begin the process of expelling the birthing byproduct no longer needed in the absence of a pup.

He nodded, turned and left.

I sank back down into the chair. After another moment, I finished my drink. I missed my little mouse. There was still some daylight left, and there was some place I wanted her to see.

“Where are we going?” She looked up at me curiously as we walked through the woods.

“A place of refuge and adventure I went to as a young pup.”

“Oh,” she breathed and then lapsed into silence.

After a moment, I asked, “Did you see Mimi or other members of the pack today?”

Hycinth had done amazingly well blending into the pack. Most of the Wolves had been hesitant about her at first, but many of them warmed up to her, and she spent much of her time interacting them.

She bit her l*p and said quietly, “No. I went to see Gwen.”

Her answer surprised me. She’d told me she didn’t want to see Gwen during the week after Gwen’s heat and I hadn’t forced the issue. I said softly, “I thought you weren’t going to see her until after this week finished.”

Her cheeks flushed, and she lowered her head. “That was wrong with me.”

“What do you mean?”

“I thought I couldn’t handle her pain. Not after how Ever had described it,” she murmured. “So, I planned to stay away. But that was wrong.”

“How was she?” I asked, even though I already suspected the answer.

Her face twisted and she whispered, “Not good.”

Goosebumps came up on her arms. I wrapped my arm around her shoulder and rubbed them away with my hands. She allowed my embrace for a moment and then pulled away.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

She shook her head, her shoulders slumping.

We walked in silence, lost in our thoughts. After several minutes, I stopped.

“We’re here.”

The sun had gone down. However, we could easily see with our wolf vision. She looked around in confusion at the trees that surrounded us. “Where exactly are we?”

“Look up,” I said softly.

She craned her neck toward the sky and breathed in awe, “Oh!”

It was all I could do not to press my nose into her beautifully elongated neck and inhale her addictive scent, as she stared at the treehouse thirty feet above our heads. Her eyes sparkled with excitement. “How do we get up there?”

“This way,” I extended my arm toward a tree.

She walked and quickly examined it. Without another word, she followed her instinct, leaping to reach the low hanging branch and then swung her body around to climb on top of it. She began to make her way up the natural climbing footholds for the next fifteen feet while I jumped onto the limb she vacated. When she reached the ladder, she continued for another ten feet, until she was under the belly of the treehouse and pushed open the hatch. I watched her feet disappear as she scrambled inside, squealing her delight.

I joined her in the next minute and felt way too f*****g happy just to see the pleasure that crossed her expression as she looked around in awe. “It’s like a tiny little house…perfect,” she murmured as she walked through the little living room, letting her fingers trail along the detailed woodwork, the condensed-sized couch, and two comfortable chairs, with a quilt thrown over the back for cold weather.

“It even has glass windows,” she said in amazement as she stared at the large paned window that took up most of one of the walls.

“Come,” I murmured. Hycinth followed me up a trail of steps, hidden on the other side of the massive tree in the middle.

“It has a second story,” she breathed, eyes darting all around to take in the queen size bed, little dresser and pictures on the wall. She made her way to the bed to the door on the other side, opening it and stepping out onto a deck. She inhaled sharply as she looked around. I stepped out onto the deck with her. It was an amazing view. Her eyes went up again, and she whispered, “Look at the Moon.”

I looked up. The full Moon was stunning. I couldn’t stop myself. I pressed my front against her back, holding her tightly by the h**s, my head low by her ear as I said huskily, “You’re so beautiful in the moonlight.”

She gasped and shivered, and for a moment, she melted into me. I inhaled her scent, orchid and jasmine. But then her body tensed. I whispered, “Shh…don’t pull away. I can be gentle. I can give you unimaginable pleasure…if you would only just let me.”

Her breathing was ragged, and she said the words I knew would come. “I can’t….I-I’m sorry.”

It felt like I’d been kicked in the gut.

I turned her around to face me. “Why?”

“You know why,” she pulled out of my embrace taking a step back.

“No, I don’t. I’ve heard you. I know what you’re going to say, but I don’t accept that answer.”

“It’s the only answer you’re going to get,” she repeated my words from four weeks ago.

I ground my teeth together. “Like it or not, you are my mate.”

Her l*p quivered as she stared up at me with wide eyes. “It doesn’t matter.”

And there were those words It doesn’t f*****g matter.

Nothing else mattered, except what I’d stolen from her.

“Would it change things if you knew the reason I did it?” I asked gruffly. “Do you honestly think I didn’t have a reason for what I did? Do you think I just randomly kill various wolves on a whim?”

“The reason…won’t bring them back,” she whispered and pulled away from me.

I closed my eyes in defeat.

“I can’t do this…I can’t do this with you,” her voice broke, and she turned and ran, back through the little house and out the bottom door, into the tree, before I could comprehend what had happened.

“Shit!” I swore and ran after her.

She was shockingly agile and made it to the ground within seconds before she took off into the forest.

“Wait!” I called after her, but she didn’t stop. When I finally made it down, I tracked her scent. She wasn’t on any trail. She was just randomly running, and she couldn’t possibly know where she headed. Abruptly, I realized what direction she was going and what day it was! There was a small clearing ahead-the very same clearing where Gwen went on the night, she realized there was no pup in her belly. “Oh f**k,” I went faster, following my nose because her footsteps were silent, even in all of the underbrush, she snaked her way without making a sound.

We were getting too close. In another moment, Hycinth would be right on top of Gwen and Ever. And now my senses told me, that Gwen was indeed in that clearing because an agonized howl rose up to the Moon. I’d heard many things in my life, but not many sounds of raw, gut-wrenching heartache. It grated on my teeth and hurt my ears. Another howl was released, long and mournful. Ever.

Fifteen feet ahead, I saw Hycinth. She crouched on the ground, still hidden by the trees, but she could see Ever holding his mate in his arms. Gwen was sobbing now, “I’m sorry…I’m so, so sorry…please forgive me!”

“Stop it!” his voice cracked as tears rolled down his cheeks. “It’s not your fault! It’s never your fault. I f*****g love you…please, please listen to me,” he begged.

I stayed as silent as I could, praying they wouldn’t notice us. When I reached Hycinth, I placed my hand on her back. Her shoulders were shaking. She was sobbing as well, unable to tear her eyes away from the crying wolves. I couldn’t speak for fear that Ever would hear us, so I just pulled on her arm gently. She lifted and silently followed behind me as we made our way home.

I tried to get her to speak to me, but she just ran, still crying all of the way to my room and into the bathroom, where she locked the door behind her. A moment later, she turned on the shower, the sound muffling her sobs.

I sat down on the bed to wait, my shoulders slumping forward, still feeling the heavy burden of their pain.

He was my best friend. And his agony killed me.