Chapter 155

Chapter 155
Maybe it had been the stress of trying to deny the pull between them that had made him the way he was with her? He didn’t know what to do with that realization. Sympathy wasn’t something he’d ever had to practice with Nolan.
He poured another drink and stared at the water, but it did nothing to dull the ache building behind his ribs.
When he finally stood, it wasn’t with clarity-only with a quiet understanding that nothing between them would ever be simple again.
Nolan POV
The rain started sometime after midnight.
I didn’t remember opening the window, but the air was cool and damp against my skin. I sat in the dark, elbows on my knees, eyes fixed on the glass. Water streaked down the panes in uneven trails, catching the faint light from the street outside.
I should have felt lighter after telling Lance the truth. But I didn’t.
If anything, I felt hollow-like something essential had been scraped clean from the inside. The house was silent around me, too large for one person, every room filled with echoes.
Even my wolf was still for once.
I couldn’t stop thinking about what Lance must be feeling right now. The shock. The betrayal. The confusion.
And under it all, the pity.
That was the part I hated most. Lance deserved for this to be easy. He deserved to hate me.
I didn’t want to be pitied. I didn’t deserve it.
Every decision I had made had come from the same place, fear. Fear of failure, fear of loss, fear of what would happen if I let go of control.
And fear was a weakness that I couldn’t afford. It was the thing tha had cost my parents their lives. Fear of being alpha, of being trapped in their expectations.
It was that same fear that had driven Ellie away.
I’d seen it in her eyes before she left-an exhaustion that went deeper than anger.
She hadn’t wanted to fight anymore. She’d wanted to breathe.
I ran a hand over my face, the sound of the rain filling the silence.
The memory of her laugh hit me suddenly soft and unguarded, from a time when we’d still been figuring each other out. It had been rare, even then, but when it came it had felt like sunlight cutting through fog.
I wondered when I’d stopped trying to make her laugh.
When she first came to Silver Fang, things had been tense but hopeful. Ellie said she understood the situation. That she knew he would never win my heart. But that hadn’t lasted.
I’d resented her for caring about me, if I was honest. That’s why It into place so many rules. Made her sleep in her own room, only slept with her when she was ovulating, turned my back on her when other mocked her, even though my protective instincts
tore at me.
I couldn’t care about her. I didn’t deserve to.
I thought about the night my parents died, about the moment everything inside me hardened and turned cold. That night had stolen my sense of safety, my ability to trust, my capacity for softness.
I had built walls from that pain, mistaking them for strength.
And in doing so, I had built a prison-for myself, for Ellie, for everyone who tried to love me.
The realization sat like ice in my chest.
I stood and crossed to the window, resting a hand against the cold lass. The rain had intensified, tapping insistently against the pane. Beyond it, the forest swayed in the wind, restless and alive.
Somewhere out there, Ellie was breathing the same air. Holding or sons. Building a life without me.
The thought both hurt and steadied me.
I didn’t deserve forgiveness-not yet. Maybe not ever. But I want to be worthy of it someday.
For years, my parents’ deaths had defined me. Every failure, everyhoice had been shaped by that. But maybe it was time to stop letting ghosts dictate the living.
The hardest part had been sending Felicity away, but I had done it’d cut that tice’d let that hope go. If I was honest I knew that I was happier Without her constantly in my ear
ear
whispering he venom.
I closed the window against the rain and leaned back against the will, eyes closing briefly.
Tomorrow, I would start to make things right. Not by forcing, not by demanding-but by changing.
I didn’t know what that looked like yet, but for the first time in years, I felt the faint stirrings of something unfamiliar.
Hope.