Page 38 of The Alpha's Broken Oath

“I kept tabs on you, Winter. When you left… baby, I searched for you. Every damn city, every town, every little village, I searched for you. Do you think it was easy standing there and admitting you weren’t my mate? That I wasn’t dying to make you my Luna and have a future with you? I rejected you that day because I knew how things would go, Winter.

You had gone against my father, the Alpha, in public. Your family had just died, and everyone didn’t want to get close to you for fear that they’d share the same fate. Taking you as my Luna would have meant the pack would taunt you, bully you, and eat you alive. As for my father? He would have never allowed you to be my Luna whether we were mates or not.

So, what would I have done, Winter? Kept you by my side? Caused you more harm? Or let you go in hopes that you would forgive me by the time I came back to get you?”

I shake my head disagreeing with his statement. Hot, chunky tears burn my eyelids as I whisper weakly, “You are lying.”

“I wasn’t strong enough back then to protect you from my pack and my father, so I let you go. I’m strong now. I’ve become a better man for you, baby, and if you can only get past your anger and forgive… me, you’d be able to see that I’ve changed. Forgive me, Winter.”

Deacon repeats the words “forgive me” while he holds me in his arms all night. I don’t push him off.

I don’t think I have the energy to move as I sleep in his arms, wondering just how true his words were.

The morning sun spews light across Deacon’s room without mercy. I open my eyes, wincing at the little pain that accosts me. Doing a double take of my surroundings reminds me of what happened last night and whatever escalated between me and Deacon.

Which is why I’m not surprised when I cock my head to the side and meet Deacon’s face.

His messy dark hair covers his forehead, his lashes dust the apple of his cheeks, and his lips part with every snore he lets out. I lightly chuckle because he snores, just like Adrian and Asher do.

He looks just like how his sons do when they are too deep in slumber to hear anything around them.

My eyes linger on his lips, and the thought of kissing him comes up in my mind, but I shoot it down just as fast.

I have to go.

I can’t stay here, not after everything he revealed last night.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

WINTER

A walk in Bracken Park after I leave Deacon’s house doesn’t do anything to clear the fog in my mind.

My wolf reminds me of what Deacon said over and over until it’s become nothing but the sound of a broken record to my own ears.

My mother always said that questioning the Alpha was like breaking the rules that governed the pack. Seven years ago, I had disputed what Alpha Foster had said about my family’s murder, but I didn’t think for a second it would bring repercussions.

I was young, grieving, bitter, and mad at everything and everyone. Maybe it was wrong of me to accuse the Alpha of lying, but Deacon doesn’t get to use that as an excuse as to why he rejected me.

And the pack taunting me? I would have gotten used to the taunts if he remained by my side.

Instead, he’d chosen to leave me when I was grieving, to turn me away when he was all I had.

“He looked for us after we left,” my wolf vocally reminds me, but if he looked for us for years, why didn’t he find us?

Why didn’t he find me when I was washing dishes for a living while I was pregnant with his kids? When I was struggling to make ends meet, why didn’t he find us then?

The organ in my chest? Goddess, it believes his words so much.

And my wolf being on Deacon’s side, too, makes it hard to deny that my mate might have never wanted to reject me in the first place and that circumstances forced him to.

I hate how my heart thaws at the thought of Deacon scouring every inch of every city trying to find me.

I also hate how my breath lodges in my throat as I remember how sinfully handsome, he looked this morning, all quiet and peaceful. If it wasn’t for what happened in the past, we would have been sharing a bed. I would have been sleeping in his arms, kissing him, and letting him touch me wherever he wanted.

The park might be empty this time of day, but even as the leaves slap each other in the trees from the cool morning breeze, I rack my gaze around. The feeling of being watched is so tangible to me. Fortunately, the ringing of my phone in my purse pulls me out of the reverie that I’m assuming to be nothing more than stress or mere hallucination.

Spotting a park bench nearby, I go to sit on it, grabbing the phone that has Isabel’s name littered on my screen.

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