Page 115 of Villainous Fate

I have no family together in Alabama.

I have no mom.

I barely have a dad.

I’ve lost Deacon.

But I have Marcus.

Was all this a plan to bring him to me?

Frustration boils under my skin, and I’m uncharacteristically irritable. Lack of sleep and emotional upheaval left me without patience.

I need to talk to him.

I can make him understand, make him see that we didn’t mean to hurt him and that he didn’t ask for this.

No sooner do I think it than I hear movement below me.

Swiping at my eyes, I try to sit on the bed to curb my nervousness and keep myself from wrapping myself in his arms the moment he walks in.

His ascent is slow, and my anxiety ratchets up with every beat of my heart.

My eyes drink him in when I see him, scanning the right side of his body for any sign of injury as he walks to the dresser and grabs his sweatpants, giving me his back. His movements are labored, and I can almost feel the physical pain wafting from him.

His body tenses the moment he realizes he isn't alone, and I hear him sigh, his head dropping as he pulls them on.

“I don’t have anything else to say,” he says, his voice shredded. My heart sinks at the pain in the sound. It isn’t even the words but the exhaustion and defeat.

“I know. I’m sorry. I just needed to know you were alright,” I say, my voice impossibly small. My fingers pick at my pants, removing lint that isn’t there, while my eyes never leave his back.

A single laugh escapes, and it carries his defeat.

“Why?”

“Because I care about you,” I state, my voice firm in the assertion but confused by his question.

“You ‘care’ about me? You‘care’about me? Well, then, rest assured, I’m fine. You can go,” he says, dismissing me while he pulls a shirt on.

“We didn’t choose this,” I begin slowly, causing him to whip around, anger burning in his tired eyes.

“That’s exactly what you did!” he snaps, fisting his hands to remain in control.

“No… No. The Fates chose. The Fates picked Marcus for me. I never once even considered anyone but you until that day,” I say, infusing strength into the words so he understands I was his, I was faithful.

“I’ll be sure to get you a gold star for your effort,” he says, his tone venomous. “It doesn’t matter. You made your choice,” he finishes.

“Deacon…” I start.

“No. You told me you loved me. You told me, Mates, or not, I was it for you, and then the minute you have a choice, you turn your back on everything. You are no better than everyone else who uses me. They did it for my wolf, for power. You did it for my cock, a stopgap so you wouldn’t be alone until a better option came around.” His eyes are hard, and the words he uses sound nothing like the man I fell in love with. Nothing like my Deacon.

“You know it isn’t like that,” I say, my eyes dropping, knowing that is what he has been thinking since he left. I bite my lip, trying to prevent my tears from escaping.

I need to be strong for him right now.

“Then choose me. Tell The Fates to shove their choices and pick me. We can leave today. I have connections in Tennessee and South Carolina that will take us into their pack,” he says, falling to his knees before me, hope flaring in his eyes. “It’s always been you and me, Tails; choose me.”

This is the moment I will remember breaking him. As my own heart shatters in my chest, and my eyes fall closed, unable to watch the final blow.

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