Page 22 of Who We Were

Stephanie sighs. "Honestly, we're all better off without her."

Her words muddle for a moment when I catch the scent of something floral drifting through the house and out the door.

"My ungrateful child is an annoying shit. Left in the middle of the night to go live with her rich daddy."

The longer the door stays open, the stronger the scent of a fresh spring day swirls toward me and twines with my soul. Lavender grips my heart, and settles beneath my breastbone, giving a subtle yank on the beast rattling its cage.

Wait.

Before I can control myself, my arm snaps out and my fist closes around the beta woman’s throat. All I see is a threat between me and that scent. It's hard to grasp the information Isee spilling from her lips while it feels like my brain is ripping in two.

My voice is as hard as stone once her words register in my expanding mind. "Gone?!"

Sick satisfaction curls my lip as Stephanie gurgles and gasps, unable to reply. My usual simmering anger issues turn into burning rage, but for Amaya I curb the urge to snap her mother's neck.

"Sh-she left us." Her words are barely more than a wheeze, so I let up the tiniest bit. "Amaya. Left.You," she gasps out with a furious glare.

The scent reminding me of spring days running around town and through fields turns bitter, taking me right along with it. I don't realize I've released the beta until her nasty hacking choke pulls me from the decaying image of happiness.

"Amaya left in the middle of the night, you little prick. Wanted her daddy's money." Stephanie spreads her arms wide. "This, we,you,weren't enough for that bitch."

This pivotal moment comes in waves. My alpha emerges in a fit of denial and shoves the bitch aside.

"AMAYA!" I roar, stomping through the living room, upending the kitchen table, the couch, anything my girl could fit under or behind. Then goes her bed, her dresser, and even her mother's room isn't saved from the following wave of desperation.

Hurt is next, and it's in this sorrow of losing who my alpha is insisting is our mate that I tear. Deep in grief, my alpha spares her nana's room that's been untouched since she died. Just a look confirms my ultimate fear.

Gone. Just like Stephanie said.

And with her, Amaya took anything that made me good with her. My mate stole the light that balanced my darkness. Alone, and heartbroken in Amaya's bedroom, I allow my alpha to surgeforth completely, shouldering the soul-deep pain of rejection. Surrounded by what was just a calming aroma, I convince myself all I smell is rot.

I don't tell myself it's my decaying soul I smell. I force the stench to associate with the scent of my mate.

Left me.

Not enough for her.

Dead to me.

17

SAMUEL

Dead to me. Dead to me. Dead to me.

For an hour and a half, a war has raged within me. It's a battle I welcome and one I don't see resolving for the rest of my goddamn existence. It's the same one that's always simmered just beneath the surface since the day the woman currently walking out of my office fucking left me.

Amaya Rose and I have come full circle, and it was a reunion that made me downright murderous and gleeful all at once. Oh, and her rich daddy, who is none other thanPaul Arison.

The man she left me for.

If he wasn't a sorry excuse for a parent, then I might have felt different all those years ago. Maybe I would have felt different today if she had shown oneounceof love for the alpha she chose over me.

Me, the person who never left her fucking side since I was in fifth grade. Clearly, Amaya didn't choose a loving dad, she chose his money. And if her constant silent tears throughout the entire meeting were anything to go by, she wasn't planning on ever seeing me again.

Well, she can choke on whatever fucking guilt consumed her today for all I care.Just like I've been gagging on her wilted lavender stench.God, I hope realizing I'm her mate tore apart her sanity too.

The amount of times her dad asked if she was okay, then kept flashing her looks of confusion and concern tells me he doesn't know her at all. I don't know why, but watching their obviously strained interactional patterns made me furious.

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