Page 53 of The Alpha's Pretend Mate

What have I done?

The next few hours passed in a blur. Cassius went through the motions of his daily routine, checking in with his Pack and reviewing reports, all while acutely aware of Alysa's presence upstairs. Every soft thud, every rustle of fabric as she Packed, felt like another nail in the coffin of what might have been.

You could stop this,his wolf whined.

But Cassius squashed the impulse. He'd made his choice, drawn his line in the sand. To go back on it now would be selfish and unfair to Alysa. She deserved better than a man who couldn't decide what he wanted.

When Alysa finally came downstairs, a small suitcase in hand, Cassius felt like all the air had been sucked out of the room. She looked pale but determined; her chin lifted in a show of strength that made his heart ache.

"Aleksander's here," she said softly, nodding toward the window where a sleek black car had just pulled up. “I prefer you don’t come out to the car with me.”

Cassius nodded, not trusting himself to speak. He followed her to the door, every step feeling like a mile. As Alysa reached for the doorknob, he finally found his voice.

"Alysa, wait."

She turned, her honey-brown eyes meeting his. For a moment, Cassius saw a flicker of hope in their depths, and it took every ounce of his willpower not to pull her into his arms and beg her to stay.

Instead, he cleared his throat. "I… I'm sorry. For everything. I hope you know that… that you meant more to me than just…" He trailed off, unable to finish the sentence.

Alysa's eyes shimmered with unshed tears. "I don’t know," she whispered. "But I'm sorry too. For pushing, for expecting… For everything."

They stood there for a moment, the air heavy with unspoken words and missed opportunities. Finally, Alysa reached out, her hand hovering over Cassius's cheek for a heartbeat before she pulled back.

"Don’t go like this." He wanted to say more, to explain why things had been so difficult, but all that came out was, "Aurora will miss you."

I’ll miss you.

Alysa closed her eyes briefly, letting out a shuddering breath. "I’ll miss her too," she admitted, her voice thick with emotion. "But I can’t stay, Cassius. Not like this."

Her eyes glistened with unshed tears, and for a fleeting second, Cassius thought she might change her mind. But thenshe blinked, regaining her composure, and whatever hope he had flickered out like a dying flame.

“I have to think about what’s best for me now,” she continued, her voice steady. “And staying here… it’s not good for either of us.”

He wanted to tell her she was wrong, that she belonged with them—with him—but the words refused to come. Instead, he just nodded, a hollow gesture that felt like another nail in the coffin.

"Goodbye, Cassius," she said softly. Her voice was barely a whisper, but it was enough to shatter the fragile hope he’d been holding on to.

And then she was gone, the door closing behind her with a finality that made Cassius's heart shatter.

Cassius watched through the window as Alysa climbed into the car, Aleksander's concerned face glancing at him before driving away. The sight of her leaving—just like that—left a void in his chest that only seemed to grow as the car disappeared down the long, winding drive.

Cassius stood there long after the car had vanished from sight, staring at the empty driveway as if he could will Alysa back through sheer force of will. The house felt cavernous around him, echoing with the absence of her laughter, her warmth.

The scent of Alysa lingered faintly in the air, but it would fade soon, just like she had. His mind screamed at him to chase after her, to stop her before it was too late, but his feet wouldn’t move. He’d made his choice, and now he had to live with it.

What have I done?

The thought was a torturous refrain in his mind that threatened to drive him mad. He’d pushed her away, tellinghimself it was for the best, but now all he could feel was the sharp, suffocating regret clawing at his chest. Alysa had brought light into his life—into Aurora’s life—and now that light was gone.

He realized that, in a way, he had failed Aurora. She had grown attached to Alysa. They both had, though he was too stubborn to admit it.

Damn it, Cassius. Why didn’t you say something?

As if on cue, Aurora's cries drifted down from upstairs. The sound jolted Cassius out of his daze, reminding him of his responsibilities and how his daughter needed him more now since Alysa was gone. He picked up the feeding bottle Alysa prepared before leaving breathing a prayer of thanks.

I never deserved her.

With a heavy heart, Cassius climbed the stairs to tend to Aurora. But as he lifted his daughter into his arms, soothing her cries, the ache in his heart didn’t lessen. It only grew, spreading like wildfire, burning through the walls he’d tried so hard to build.

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