Chapter 293
DEREK
I was more nervous than I had ever been in my entire life.
And that included some truly horrible moments. Moments when life and death had been in the balance.
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Worse than when Aiden had been in the hospital, his little body limp and pale against white sheets, machines screaming at me that I might lose the only thing that truly mattered.
Worse than when I faced my mother for the first time after my father’s death and had to admit out loud that I wasn’t enough to save him.
This was different. This wasn’t life or death. Not exactly. But it still felt like everything was on the line.
Because this was Elena.
And I had no idea what she would say.
I straightened the collar of my shirt. Again. Smoothed my palms over the front of my jacket.
I adjusted the chair behind my desk, then pushed it back again. Checked the position of the crystal decanter on the credenza. The stack of papers on my desk. The blinds.
It was already perfect. The blinds were even, the desk cleared of anything unnecessary, the decanter aligned just so. Everything in its place. Everything clean. Precise.
And it didn’t matter.
Because my heart was still pounding like it had nowhere else to go
I couldn’t sit. I tried–lowered myself into the chair behind the desk, only to spring back up two seconds later like the seat had burned me.
I ran a hand through my hair. Adjusted my collar. Turned back toward the window. Paced the width of the office once, twice. I paused near the door, considered bolting. Then paced again.
I told myself I should sit. That I should be calm. Collected. Professional. That I should look like the Alpha I was–confident, composed, in control.
But I wasn’t any of those things.
I was a mess.
I was a man waiting for the woman he broke to walk back in and look him in the eye.
And then–it came.
A knock. Just once. Soft, but certain. The kind of knock that didn’t ask permission so much as announce that everything was about to change.
The sound cut through the air like a blade. I went still.
My lungs locked, tight and stubborn. My throat dried out instantly. The only thing that moved was my heart, beating hard and Houd and uneven.
I forced myself to speak. Cleared my throat roughly, like it might steady me. “Come,” I said. Or tried to. The word came out hoarse, cracked at the edge.
The door creaked open.
Joe stepped in first. He didn’t meet my eyes–not out of disrespect but something closer to decency. His face gave nothing
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away, though there was something in the tilt of his head, the line of his shoulders, that hinted at the weight of what was coming,
He opened the door wider. Stepped aside.
And then–Elena.
She stepped through without hesitation, her chin high, her posture controlled. Her hair was pulled back, a few strands falling softly around her face. Her eyes were clear, bright, and unreadable
She looked around the office once as if it were a room she was reacquainting herself with, not one she had once walked through as if it were home.
Because it had been. Once.
Joe eased the door closed behind her with a soft, deliberate click.
I stood frozen for a beat too long, every muscle in my body caught between reaching for her and staying absolutely still.
“Thank you for seeing me,” she said, her voice composed but not cold.
“Of course,” I said quickly. Too quickly. I almost stumbled over the words. “Of course. I–I was surprised you wanted to see me
here.”
My office.
She glanced around, fingers lightly trailing the edge of my desk as she moved closer. She didn’t sit.
“It’s been a long time since I’ve been in here,” she said.
I nodded. “It has.”
She nodded too, eyes scanning the room. “I remember it.”
Her words landed like a stone in my chest.
“So you’ve recovered your memories,” I said. My voice cracked halfway through, so I tried again. “All of them?”
She looked at me then. Direct. Unblinking.
“All of them.”
I swallowed.
“Even me?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
Her answer came fast. “Even you. Especially you.”
My knees nearly gave out.
She walked to the window, looked out. The sun was setting, casting warm orange streaks through the blinds. She didn’t speak
right away.
And then, after a beat of silence, she turned back to me.
“You hurt me.”
Iclosed my eyes.
I had. I knew it. I remembered every moment of it.
Treating her like a rogue. Making her feel like less in a pack she should have ruled beside me. Letting the whispers swirl around her, unchecked, because I was too afraid to silence them. Too unsure of what she was. What we were.
The wedding.
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God.
Our wedding.
How I let Cassandra ruin it. How I chose wrong. Chose fear. Chose les.
And then the silence. The days after. When I realized what I had done and she was already gone.
When I thought she was dead.
When I buried her.
A funeral. A coffin with no body. Her name etched into stone, a memory to mourn.
And years later–years–when she stood across the ballroom at the Alpha Ball, alive, and I didn’t even recognize her. Didn’t know what I was seeing. Couldn’t believe what I was feeling.
Then I did.
Then came Aiden.
My son. Our son.
My memories came in a rush. One after another. Too fast. Too loud
Elena laughing in the snow. Elena curled on my couch with a book, Elena dancing in a firelit hall with a flower tucked behind her ear. Elena in the hospital, weak and disoriented, calling for a man she didn’t know was me.
Elena in my bed. Elena in my arms. Elena, always.
And now Elena standing here.
I couldn’t breathe.
“Why?” she asked finally, her voice soft. But not fragile. Strong. “Why did you hurt me?”
I had answers. I did.
I could tell her about Cassandra. About the lies she wove, the way she spun stories and tears and guilt like a web around me. I could talk about my own prejudice–how I was raised to see rogues as dangerous. Untrustworthy. And how that was what I believed.
I could blame the pressure. My role. My father’s legacy. My own doubts.
But the truth was simpler. Uglier.
I lowered my head into my hands.
And when I spoke, the words came out cracked.
“Because I was a coward.”
Silence.
I didn’t lift my head.
I couldn’t.
“I was a coward,” I said again. “I let other people’s voices be louder than yours. Louder than mine. I let my fear speak for ine. And I listened to it. I listened to everyone but you.”
I could hear her breathing. Quiet. Steady. But I could feel it—her presence like a tide against my shore.
“I loved you,” I said. “Even then. And I still hurt you. I let others define who you were. I didn’t stand beside you when it
Chapter 293
face. Maybe she didn’t know yet either.
mattered. I didn’t fight for you.”
My voice broke again.
“And I live with that every day.”
I finally looked up.
She was watching me. And I didn’t know what she saw in my
But she didn’t turn away.
And I didn’t deserve even that.
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