Page 65 of The Alpha's Bullied Rejected Mate
The words sliced straight through Marcus’s ribs.
“Right,” he said hoarsely. His voice barely held steady. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have… I wasn’t thinking.”
She didn’t respond. Just turned away, her arms hugging herself like she needed to hold the pieces of her together.
Marcus forced himself to step back, though his body screamed in protest. The cold that rushed in without her touch was punishing.
She had every right to pull away. Every right to say no.
Because it was his fault.
He had broken her in ways he hadn’t let himself fully acknowledge.
The way he’d slept with her and then vanished like it meant nothing.
And after that, he had pushed her away and kept his distance by turning cruel. He had joined the others in making her feel like she didn’t belong.
At the time, he had convinced himself it was necessary. That it was the only way to protect her.
But seeing her now, seeing the pain she still carried, it made him want to take a blade to his own memory. To carve out the moments where he had laughed while she cried. To unlive every choice that had led them here.
She had been so young. And he had been reckless, foolish, and afraid.
He had rejected her so completely and left her to fend for herself in a world that punished her for what she was. Now she couldn’t even look at him without trembling.
It didn’t matter how many nights he had spent reliving those moments with regret. It didn’t matter that he had hated himself every day for six years.
She wasn’t going to forgive him.
And the truth? He didn’t deserve it.
What the hell was he thinking? That a kiss would fix it?
He had no right to touch her like that. Not after everything.
Marcus clenched his fists at his sides, jaw tight. He wanted to say something else—something that might undo the damage. But the truth was that there was no quick fix for what he had broken.
“I’m sorry,” he voiced again.
Athena snapped her gaze to him, shaking her head in denial as she stumbled back a few steps. Then she turned toward the stairs and slowly ascended them. Her shoulders were tense, and her posture was rigid, as if she were holding herself together with sheer will.
She paused halfway up, looking over her shoulder. Her voice was soft, but her words were final.
“It’s too late for that.”
And Marcus understood.
She didn’t want his apologies.
She didn’t want him.
The realization landed like a blow to his chest. He could only nod, watching as she disappeared up the stairs. Guilt slithered into the hollow she left behind and coiled tight around his throat.
He still had a mission to go on and a war to fight. But right now, his chest burned with the awful weight of knowing that even if she let him kiss her… it didn’t mean she trusted him again.
And that was a wound no amount of magic could heal.
She was right.
