Page 87 of Tempted By the Alpha Outlaw

But the words won’t come.

If I tell them, it makes it real. If I tell them, they’ll decide for me, they’ll strip this choice from my hands, and I can’t bear that—not when the bond between us still hums in my chest, not when my wolf refuses to let go.

That’s the cruelest part.

Even now, even after everything, I can’t make myself hate him.

I want to. God, I want to. But my wolf howls for him, still longs for his touch, still believes in him despite the betrayal that cuts me raw.

My breath shudders out of me as I press a shaking hand to my stomach.

My future felt so certain just hours ago. So right.

And now?

I don’t know anything.

Except one thing.

I am his. And he is mine.

And no matter how much it hurts, that hasn’t changed.

My whole body trembles as I curl in on myself, gripping the quilt so tightly it might tear.

I should tell someone. I have to tell someone.

Reyes. Tilda. My mother. The pack could be in danger. Peaches could be in danger.

The thought claws through me, violent and urgent. The Gulf Pack hired him. They sent him here, to us. What if this was never just about Peaches? What if it was always bigger than that?

My stomach twists. I know what I have to do. The pack needs to know. Peaches deserves to know. Every second I keep this to myself is a second too long, a second where something could go horribly, irreversibly wrong.

And yet?—

I can’t force myself to move.

I clench my jaw so tightly it aches, but still, my throat locks up, trapping the confession inside me.

If I tell them, it makes it real.

If I tell them, they’ll decide for me. They’ll take this choice from my hands, and I can’t bear that—not when the bond between us still hums in my chest, not when my wolf refuses to let go.

That’s the cruelest part: even now, even after everything, I can’t make myself hate him. I want to. God, I want to. But my wolf howls for him, still longs for his touch, still believes in him despite the betrayal that cuts me raw.

What if I tell them, and they exile him? What if I tell them, and he never comes back?

A soft knock at my door makes my breath catch.

I scrub a hand over my face, trying to steady myself, trying to school my features. But it’s useless. She already knows.

“Starshine?”

Her voice is gentle, but it sends a fresh wave of emotion crashing over me, undoing the fragile grip I have on myself. I don’t answer. I can’t.

The door creaks open anyway.

I force myself to sit up, to smooth my hands over my thighs, to breathe past the tightness in my throat. I’m fine. I have to be fine. I can’t let her see me like this. I can’t let anyone see me like this.

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