Page 84 of The Alpha's Bullied Rejected Mate
Her vision blurred. “You hurt me, Marcus!” she screamed in pain.
“And I’ve regretted it every single day since!” he screamed back.
The final sincerity in his voice broke something loose in her.
Athena reached out to him, half-blind with tears, and found him already reaching back. His arms wrapped around her, grounding her. Her face pressed into his chest, where his heart beat a frantic, fast rhythm.
The sky bled heavy water droplets on them, but he held her tightly as she released her tears into his chest.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured into her hair. “For all of it.”
She clutched him tighter, her tears soaking his shirt along with the rain, but she didn’t care. All she could hear was the sound of her breath and the echo of everything she hadn’t let herself feel for years.
Minutes passed as the skies continued to pour down on them. And they didn’t let go of each other.
***
Marcus walked beside Athena, guiding her back toward the camp after the heavy downpour had softened to a cold, whispering drizzle. Their clothes clung to their skin, completely soaked through. Their hair hung in damp, tangled strands across their faces, and every step thumped quietly in the wet grass beneath them.
They walked in silence until Marcus shifted suddenly, stepping in front of her without warning. She stopped, halting her steps, confused as she watched him with furrowed brows.
He reached behind his back and, almost sheepishly, produced a single white lily, its petals slightly bruised from the rain, yet still impossibly beautiful. He held it between them as if it were fragile.
Athena stared at him, blinking, her breath catching faintly in her throat.
What was he doing?
He cleared his throat. “Miss Athena Meadows,” he said softly, “would you go out on a date with me?”
Athena blinked twice and lifted her brows, “A date?”
“Yes,” he whispered.
A short, soft laugh escaped her lips. “We are in a rescue camp, Marcus.”
He gave her a crooked, almost bashful smile.
“Yeah. I mean…I know. But there are still beautiful places here, I could show you.”
She stared at him.
Marcus stepped closer to her. His hand found hers—slowly and gently as though afraid she would pull away. His fingers were cold, but his grip trembled with warmth.
“I lost six years,” he said, his voice raw and cracked, as though the weight of those years still sat on his chest.
“Years I can’t ever get back. But I’m here now. Let me make it right. Let me try… starting now.”
She looked up at him as he pleaded with his eyes.
Her lips parted. “Okay,” she whispered. “One date.”
He gave her a soft smile, “One date,” he affirmed.
She took the lily from his hand, gently brushing his knuckles in the process. Her eyes lingered on the flower’s rain-soaked petals as she twirled it slowly between her fingers.
“When did you even get this?” she questioned.
“I picked it up on our way here,” he said with a grin that reached his eyes.
He moved back to her side, and their fingers found each other again.
The moon broke through the thinning clouds above them, casting a silver glow across the fields. It shimmered on the wet grass, kissed the edges of their faces, and lit the path ahead of them.
And under that moonlight, they walked on together into the night.
