Chapter 150

Evaline: ɴᴇᴡ ɴᴏᴠᴇʟ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀs ᴀʀᴇ ᴘᴜʙʟɪsʜᴇᴅ ᴏɴ
The tears didn’t stop, but kept falling without a single sound.
I wasn’t sobbing, or even crying loudly, the tears just kept rolling down on their own.
I didn’t even know why I was crying anymore. Was it because Draven and Oscar hadn’t said a single word in minutes? Because they just stood there, stunned and silent, like statues carved from confusion and disbelief?
Or was it something else?
Maybe it was everything – every emotion I had bottled up over the week. The fear, the anxiety, the guilt, the hope, the desperation. All of it was bleeding into a thousand tears that wouldn’t stop, couldn’t stop.
All I knew was that it felt like my world was crumbling, and I couldn’t hold it together anymore.
I was jerked out of my misery by the sound of footsteps. When I looked up, Draven was moving sharply and quickly, heading for the door.
He paused with his hand on the knob. I kept looking at him through tear-blurred vision, hoping, pleading, for something. Anything.
“I need air,” he whispered in a hollow voice. “I need… to clear my head.”
And then he was gone.
The door clicked shut behind him, and the sound echoed like a punch to the chest.
I didn’t move.
Not when silence settled again.
Not even when Oscar shifted.
But when I saw him step toward the door too, when I saw that slight movement out of the corner of my eye, my heart gave a painful lurch.
That was it, then.
It was over.
Just like I had feared.
They could handle the impossible bond between us, just barely. But this? Carrying the child of a man who didn’t even want me? That was beyond what any mate could accept. Even I couldn’t lie to myself about that.
If I were in their shoes… would I have stayed?
No.
I wouldn’t have.
So how could I blame them?
I bowed my head, bracing myself to be left in this lonely little cottage with nothing but broken memories and truths too heavy for my soul to carry.
But then… Oscar’s footsteps halted.
I didn’t look up.
He spoke in a flat and distant voice. “I’ll drive you back.”
My head jerked up, startled. “You don’t have to-”
“I’m not asking,” he cut in. “I’m telling you.”
His voice wasn’t cold. But it wasn’t warm, either. It was just… numb. Like everything good in it had been drained out, leaving behind a hollow shell.
I wiped at my face, trying to stem the tears. They didn’t stop, but I tried. “I can go back on my own.”
“You are not walking back in the dark. Not while you are… like this.”
I didn’t fight him after that.
There was no point.
We left the cottage without another word. He didn’t reach for my hand. Didn’t brush his arm against mine like he always used to. He just walked to the car, opened the passenger door for me like it was some automatic habit, and then slipped into the driver’s seat.
The ride was silent. Stifling. Like being trapped in a room where the walls were slowly closing in.
I stared out the window, curling my fingers tightly in my lap. Oscar didn’t even turn on the radio. The only sounds were the hum of the engine and the occasional swipe of the windshield wipers.
I couldn’t look at him. I couldn’t bear to.
And he… he never looked at me, either. Not even once.
Even when we reached the gates of the Academy, he didn’t glance my way. Just stopped the car and stared straight ahead.
My hand was trembling as I reached for the door handle. “Thank you… for bringing me back.”
There was no reply.
I stepped out slowly. The night air was biting against my skin, but I barely felt it. The door shut behind me with a soft thud, and a moment later, the car pulled away.
I kept standing there, alone at the gates, watching the red taillights until they disappeared into the darkness.
Only then I turned.
And somehow, on legs that barely felt steady, I walked through the huge iron gates and entered the Academy.
My mind was blank. Empty. Just white noise and echoes of everything I had just lost.
No one saw me.
The dorm hallways were eerily quiet as most students were still at dinner. There were no curious stares. No whispers. No judgmental glances.
Only silence.
And I was grateful for that.
Because the moment I stepped into my room and locked the door behind me, the dam finally broke.
I dropped to the floor like a puppet whose strings had been cut, my knees hitting the ground hard, but I didn’t care.
I wrapped my arms around myself, curling inward, and sobbed.
Shaking.
Gasping.
Shattered.
Everything was hurting.
My heart, my head, my body.
I had tried to be brave.
I had done what I thought was right, what I knew was right. I had told the truth. I had trusted that my mates would see me, really see me, and understand.
But in the end…
I was still alone.
Still unwanted.
Still… broken.
My baby – my baby – was the only thing I had now.
I pressed a trembling hand to my abdomen which was still flat and soft, but so impossibly precious.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered to the life growing inside me. “I’m so sorry… I ruined everything.”
The tears didn’t stop.
I didn’t know for how I stayed like that – lying on the floor and looking like as if my soul had left my body. Maybe it was just few minutes, or several hours, I had no idea.
After what seemed like forever, the door of the room was pushed open and someone stepped inside, but I didn’t look up. Not until strong arms were wrapping around me and pulling me up before I was pulled into a warm and… almost healing… embrace.
And just when I thought my tears were all gone, they began falling all over again. And this time, they didn’t stop.