Chapter 23
Nate’s POV
“Dahlia, please. Don’t be like this. Try to see the good in all of this. At least we are safe,” I pleaded, as the words felt like ash in my mouth.
I reached out for her arm, but the way she flinched made me pull back as if I’d been burned. “Give this new place a chance. You just might grow to love it, sooner or later p>
“Please, stop, Nate,” she snapped, her voice like jagged ice. She stood in the center of the lobby, the modern glass reflecting the fire in her eyes. “I know what I want and what I do not want at a glance. And I don’t want this life. I won’t change my mind in a million years p>
“What even happened to you, Dahlia?” I shouted, my frustration finally bubbling over the brim. The Alpha in me wanted to roar, to demand the respect my rank afforded, but the man in me was just desperate.
“You’re so different. So tense, so defensive, so angry. I know I hurt you in the past. I know things were messed up, but I tried to fix them. I looked for you. I’ve always loved you, Dahlia. Why can’t you see that p>
“Love is not enough!” she yelled, her voice cracking. The raw pain in her expression made me want to recoil. “Don’t make it seem like you’re doing me a favor by loving me. I didn’t ask for that. And at the moment when it mattered the most, when I needed your love for me to prevail, it failed. You chose another. You can’t rewrite the past. Just let it be p>
She didn’t wait for my rebuttal. She turned on her heel and stormed off toward the garden at the corner of the foyer, her boots clicking sharply against the marble.
She didn’t want the children to see her in that state, or maybe she just couldn’t stand the sight of me for one more second. I stood there, rooted to the spot, my heart hammering against my ribs like a trapped bird. My patience was thinning into a dangerous, jagged edge.
“Ahhh!” I let my rage take control. I spun around and kicked a heavy ceramic flower vase. It shattered against the wall, shards of expensive porcelain flew across the floor.
The clattering noise drew Elena into the hall immediately. Her eyes were wide, scanning the yard with practiced alert. “What’s the matter, Nate? What happened? Are the dark shadows here again p>
“No,” I said, letting out a long, ragged sigh that felt like it was tearing my throat. “We’re safe p>
“Are… are you okay?” Elena asked. She stepped closer, her gaze softening. “You’ve been through a lot lately. You should be resting. Where is Dahlia p>
The mention of her name triggered a fresh wave of bitterness. I looked at the glass walls of my new fortress; the one I’d built to keep the world out, only to find I’d locked a ghost inside with me.
“I know that the past can’t be revisited,” I said, looking through Elena rather than at her. “But shouldn’t it be something that I’m trying to make our future better p>
Elena looked perplexed. She didn’t understand the depth of the rift. She just watched me, waiting for me to explain the madness she saw in my eyes.
“Look around you, Elena. This house, the new pack I’m trying to build… it’s all for her. All those years with Gina, I loved another. I wanted another. Do you know the relief I felt when I learned the mate bond between Gina and me was fake? Forged by the Elders p>
“Wait, what?” Elena stepped back, her hand flying to her mouth. “That’s not possible. The mate bond is sacred. It’s… It’s biological p>
I let out a bitter, hollow laugh. “Oh, yes, it is possible. Desperation is an interesting thing, Elena. Gina and the Elders… they used forbidden magic to mimic the frequency. They played us all. They kept me tethered to a lie while the truth was out there p>
“But Nate, I’m confused. Please, make this make sense,” Elena said, her brow furrowing. “Is the other woman you’re referring to… Dahlia p>
“Who else?” I felt the heat of tears threatening to spill. I turned my head away, ashamed of the weakness. “My heart always belonged to her. Why can’t she see that? Everyone knows it except her. She thinks I’m a careless monster who doesn’t care about her or our children’s safety p>
“Take it easy, Nathaniel,” Elena said, reaching out to pat my back. “What you’ve pulled off here is no small feat. This house is a marvel. I’m sure she’ll grow to appreciate you in time p>
“No, no, she won’t.” I leaned my head against the cool stone of a structural pillar. “She hates me now. I can see it in her eyes; I can feel it in the air between us. She’s repulsed by me. I tried, Elena. I swear, I tried to be everything she needed p>
I left Elena standing in the hall and walked toward the heavy glass doors that led to the garden. I watched Dahlia through the pane. She was standing by a row of pale white hydrangeas, with her back to me, her shoulders shaking with silent, rhythmic sobs.
I wanted to go to her, to wrap my arms around her and tell her that the mountain was gone and only we remained, but I knew my touch would only feel like another shackle to her.
I felt the Alpha spirit inside me stir; the part of me that wanted to claim, to command, to force her to see the logic of this sanctuary. But the man in me, the broken boy who had lost his first love to a lie, was terrified.
I had built a palace to protect my heirs, but I hadn’t realized that the foundation was built on the ruins of the only woman I ever wanted.
I turned away from the window, my face hardening into a mask of command. If I couldn’t win her heart with words, I would win it with safety. I would show her that I could be the wall between her and the darkness, even if she hated the very existence of that wall.
“Elena,” I called out, my voice returning to the cold, hard tone of an Alpha.
“Yes, Alpha p>
“Double the guards on the north ridge. And get the medical bay ready for Axel. I don’t care if she resists. That boy is carrying the mountain’s Heart, and I won’t lose him because his mother wants to pretend we’re human. We need to know what those silver lines are doing to his blood p>
I walked toward my office, each step heavy with the weight of a crown I never asked for, but couldn’t put down.
Dahlia’s POV
The air in the garden was too sweet, too perfect. It smelled of expensive mulch and engineered blooms, a stark contrast to the scent of ozone and ancient stone that still clung to my hair. I stood by the hydrangeas, my chest heaving as I tried to swallow the screams that were still clawing at my throat.
Love is not enough.
I had said it, and I meant it. Nate thought he could buy my forgiveness with a glass house. He thought he could erase six years of hiding, six years of wondering if my children would be snatched from their beds, just by building a prettier cage.
I looked back at the house. It was beautiful, yes. But it was a fortress. And every guard I saw out of the corner of my eye was a reminder that my children were no longer just mine; they were assets of the Silver-Crest pack.
I needed to move. I needed to walk until my legs ached so I didn’t have to think about the look in Nate’s eyes when I told him I hated this life. I wandered deeper into the garden, following a path of crushed white stone that led toward the perimeter of the cliffside.
The garden was sprawling, hidden behind high stone walls topped with silver-laced wire. As I reached the far corner, near a cluster of dense weeping willows, the ground became uneven. The pristine landscaping gave way to something more… functional.
I noticed a small, low-profile structure It looked like a cellar entrance, but it was reinforced with heavy steel and a biometric scanner.
My heart began to race. Nate had said this house was new. He had said it was a sanctuary. But this door looked old. The stone around it was weathered, carved with symbols that looked terrifyingly familiar. They were the same runes I had seen in the basement of the old pack house.
I looked around. The guards were stationed at the front gate and the main entrance, leaving this corner of the garden relatively unobserved. I knelt by the door, my fingers brushing the cold steel.
There was a small gap where the mountain’s rock met the metal frame. I pressed my eye to it, expecting to see a storage room or a wine cellar.
Instead, I saw a laboratory.
The room was lit with a harsh, flickering blue light. Through the narrow slit, I could see rows of glass jars filled with that same black, oily liquid that had nearly swallowed us in the mountain. There were monitors flickering with data; topographical maps of the Silver-Crest range, and… my breath hitched.
I saw photographs.
They were grainy, taken from a distance. One was of Aidan playing in the park three years ago. Another was of Ariana at the grocery store. And there, pinned to the center of a corkboard, was a high-resolution scan of Axel’s hand from only hours ago, the silver lines highlighted in a glowing red.