Page 105 of Bitten Shifter

I shake my head. It’s too late; the damage has already been done. “I’m tired of everyone steamrolling over my choices,” I say,my voice trembling. “Don’t you understand? I feel violated. And I’m heartbroken?—”

My throat closes once again around the surge of emotion, but I press on. “The last time I felt like this was when I was fifteen, and the human government sterilised me for not being ‘good enough.’ Do you understand what that does to a person? And then, years later, I found the man I chose to spend my life with—buried inside my big sister.”

Yet stupid me still trusted Merrick.

“Another few seconds tonight, and I’d be dead. I’m sorry Lander’s timing wasn’t perfect—really, I am. Then you could have walked away without the burden of a fated mate.”

“Lark—” he begins, but I cut him off.

“I’m a sigma,” I say, my tone rigid and cold as I lift my chin, “a lone wolf according to your own laws. I don’t want a pack, nor do I need a fated mate. I can’t return to the Human Sector, so, Alpha Prime, I’m formally requesting to live and work in the Enterprise Zone. Unless that’s been taken from me too. Do I still have a job, an apartment? Or should I stay here in the Magic Sector?”

I refuse to look at him. I can’t face the pain in his eyes, the silent anguish I know is there. It would only weaken my resolve.

“You can go back to your job and your home in the Enterprise Zone,” he whispers.

“Thank you,” I reply sharply, allowing myself the briefest glance at him. “Now leave me the fuck alone.”

Chapter Forty-Seven

I’ve been staying lateat work, grasping at any excuse to avoid going home, but the inevitable can’t be postponed forever. As I walk past security, the guards give me odd looks, their gazes lingering like I’ve grown a second head. Their disapproval is almost tangible.

I ignore them, my trainers squeaking on the polished floor as I push through the doors into the stormy evening. The summer sky churns above, dark and brooding. The wind carries the scent of rain, tangling my hair and biting through my coat. I pull the fabric tighter and hunch my shoulders as I walk.

Paws echo softly behind me.

In my spare time, I’ve been designing better sensory bands. The Ministry of Magic has already introduced replacements after the old ones were exposed as dangerously flawed—a scandal that caused quite an uproar.

I quicken my pace, passing the oak tree and the empty plot where the wizard’s house once stood. The residual magic hums faintly against my senses.

When I reach my building, the grey wolf trailing me watches me go inside.

Because I refused to speak to Merrick, he decided the best way to handle my rejection was by following me everywhere in his wolf form.

He won’t let me go.

I give Matthew a quick wave as I pass the security desk. He waves back, his gaze flicking briefly to the wolf before pretending he sees nothing. The lift dings softly, and I step inside.

If I ignore the steady presence of the wolf shadowing me, it’s almost as though my life has returned to normal, as if I’ve never had an epic adventure that upended everything.

I avoid the blond, nosy neighbour—Riker—who conveniently moved in across the hall.

Inside my apartment, I set Hatty on her book stand and make a half-hearted attempt at dinner, more from habit than hunger. Then I settle on the sofa, flipping through television channels until I land on an apocalypse film. I’ve developed a strange fascination with them—there’s something grimly satisfying about watching worlds crumble while people fight to survive. It puts my problems into perspective. They feel smaller by comparison.

Hours pass in a blur of explosions, desperate protagonists, and collapsing cities, but eventually, I find myself drawn to the window. It’s foolish, I know. My heart tugs before my feet can argue. I sigh, wander over, and lift the curtain a few centimetres.

There he is on the grass below the balcony, curled into a ball with his head resting on his paws, gazing right back at me.

It’s raining.

For two weeks, this has been his routine—trailing me to work, following me home, then spending the nights outside my building, staring at my window. He is my big furry shadow.

The weather was decent until now, but as July settles in, the heavens have opened.

Using my shifter magic, I focus on him. Raindrops cling to his fur and drip off his nose.

“Bloody wolf,” I mutter under my breath. “Why won’t he just get lost?”

It’s easier to stay angry than admit how much I miss him, but after two weeks, my hurt is wearing thin.

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