Dark Woods

Chapter 17

Gabriel’s POV

I stood frozen in the spot where Jasmine had left me, her words echoing in my mind like a physical blow. Pretend you never saw me. The pain in her voice when she'd said it made something deep in my chest clench with this unfamiliar ache—an ache I'd been fighting for months.

But I couldn't give in to it. Not when everything I'd worked for depended on staying strong, staying focused, staying alone.

I ran a hand through my hair, frustration clawing at me. The scent of her blood still lingered in the air, metallic and wrong, and the way she'd looked at me... like I was the last person she wanted to see.

Which was exactly what I'd been trying to do, wasn't it?

"Gabriel!" The voice came again, sharper this time. My father's Beta, Jake, was jogging toward me across the field. "Your father's getting pissed. The meeting—"

"I know," I cut him off, my voice colder than I meant it to be. I forced myself to turn away from the direction Jasmine had disappeared, even though something inside me—something I refused to acknowledge—screamed at me to follow her.

The walk back to the pack house felt like walking through quicksand. Every step away from where she'd gone made my chest tighten with this weird mix of panic and frustration. I should be focused on the territorial s**t, on proving myself worthy of eventually leading my father's pack. At seventeen, I was already being groomed for leadership, already expected to make the hard choices that would define my future.

And the hardest choice was staying away from her.

I'd convinced myself from early on that mates were a weakness—a distraction I couldn't afford. I'd seen how consumed other Alphas became with protecting their mates, how their judgment got clouded by emotion. Even my own father, strong as he was, had moments where his devotion to my mother made him vulnerable in ways that could be used against him.

I'd watched Alpha Morrison from Silver Creek lose half his territory because he'd prioritized his mate's safety over strategic positioning. I'd seen David Chen nearly get his entire pack killed because he couldn't make the hard choice when his mate was in danger. Hell, I'd grown up watching my own father's eyes soften every time my mother walked into a room, watching him defer to her opinion on matters that should've been his call alone.

I refused to have that kind of weakness. I'd decided long ago that when I became Alpha, I would lead with logic, not love. I would be untouchable, uncompromised, focused solely on the strength and security of my pack.

But Jasmine...

The memory of the past few months crashed over me like a physical weight. All those nights at bars, all those meaningless hookups with women whose names I couldn't even remember. I'd told myself it was proving my strength, proving I could resist whatever pull she seemed to have on me.

Because there was a pull. Even without my wolf—still two weeks away from my eighteenth birthday—I could feel it. That inexplicable draw that made every cell in my body light up when she was near, that made me scan every room looking for her face, that made touching her feel like coming home to a place I'd never been.

And that scared the s**t out of me.

So, I'd made sure she heard about every blonde, every brunette, every meaningless night that was supposed to prove I felt nothing for her. I'd built a wall between us brick by brick, convincing myself it was for the good of my future pack.

But seeing her today—the terror in her eyes, the way her hands had been shaking, the blood on her knuckles—made me question everything.

What the hell was happening to her? And why did the thought of her being hurt make me want to tear apart whoever was responsible?

The pack house loomed ahead of me, all stone and authority, a reminder of the legacy I was supposed to uphold. Generations of Preston alphas had walked these halls, had made the hard choices that kept our pack strong. None of them had let themselves get distracted by a mate bond. None of them had let emotion cloud their judgment.

But as I climbed the steps to the main entrance, I couldn't shake the image of Jasmine's face—the way she'd looked at me like I was the cause of her pain instead of someone who could help fix it.

"Gabriel." My father's voice cut through my spiraling thoughts as I entered the main conference room. Alpha Preston's pale eyes were sharp with expectation. "You're late."

"My bad," I said, forcing my expression into the mask of cold authority I'd been perfecting since childhood. I took my seat at the long table where Alpha Reeves waited with his own advisors.

The Winter Moon pack leader looked impatient, his fingers drumming against the polished wood. This was supposed to be a routine territorial discussion, but I could tell from the tension in the room that it had become something more serious in my absence.

"As I was saying," Alpha Reeves continued, shooting me a pointed look, "the eastern border disputes have escalated. We've had three incidents in the past month alone."

But even as the meeting began, even as I forced myself to focus on territorial boundaries and trade agreements, my mind kept drifting to split knuckles and haunted eyes. To the way Jasmine had leaned into my touch for just a moment before remembering she wanted nothing to do with me.

To the growing certainty that whatever was wrong with her, she was facing it alone because of my choices.

And to the even more terrifying realization that maybe my rigid beliefs about strength and leadership had cost me something I couldn't get back.

"Gabriel, are you listening?" My father's sharp tone cut through my thoughts.

"Of course," I lied, straightening in my chair. "Alpha Reeves was talking about the eastern border disputes."

My father's eyes narrowed slightly, but he didn't call me out in front of the visiting alpha. "Right. And what's your take on the situation?"

I launched into the analysis I should've been paying attention to, drawing on months of preparation and strategic planning. But even as I spoke about territorial rights and pack security, part of my mind was still replaying the encounter with Jasmine.

The way she'd said "What happened is that I'm slowly losing my mind, Gabriel."

Losing her mind? What did that mean? And why did the thought of her suffering make my chest feel like it was being carved out with a dull knife?

I managed to get through the rest of the meeting on autopilot, nodding at the right moments and offering strategic input when pressed. But my heart wasn't in it. For the first time in my life, pack business felt secondary to something else—someone else.

The meeting dragged on for what felt like hours, every minute stretching endlessly as I forced myself to focus on territorial boundaries and trade negotiations. But even as I nodded at the right moments and offered strategic input, my mind kept circling back to the terror in Jasmine's eyes, the way she'd flinched away from my touch like it burned her.

When my father finally dismissed me with a curt nod, I barely managed to walk—not run—from the conference room. The late morning sun hit my face as I stepped outside, but it did nothing to ease the restless energy clawing at my chest.

I found myself walking toward the training grounds without thinking about it, my feet carrying me back to where I'd run into her. The field was empty now, but I could still smell traces of her scent in the air—vanilla and something uniquely her that made my entire body tense with recognition.

"Rough meeting?"

I turned to find Nick approaching, his expression cautious. He'd been walking on eggshells around me for months, ever since I'd started my campaign of meaningless hookups. Sometimes I caught him looking at me like he wanted to say something, but he always held back.

"Fine," I said curtly, not in the mood for conversation.

"I saw you talking to Jasmine earlier," he said carefully. "Everything okay?"

"Why wouldn't it be?" I snapped, immediately defensive.

Nick raised his hands in surrender. "Just asking, man. She seemed... upset."

Upset. That was putting it mildly. She'd looked like she was falling apart, and I'd been too much of a coward to do anything about it.

"She's not my problem," I lied, the words tasting like ash in my mouth.

"Right," Nick said, but there was something in his tone that made me look at him sharply. "Because you've made it very clear that you don't give a s**t about her."

There was an edge to his voice that I'd never heard before, and it made my jaw clench. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing," Nick said, but his eyes were hard. "Just... maybe you should think about what you're doing, Gabriel. Because some choices can't be undone."

"What choices?" I demanded, stepping closer. "I haven't made any choices regarding Jasmine Armstrong."

"Haven't you?" Nick's voice was quiet, but there was steel in it. "The parties, the girls, making sure she knows about every hookup—that's not making choices?"

My hands clenched into fists. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Sure you don't." Nick shook his head. "Look, I don't pretend to understand what's going on between you two, but I know what I see. And what I see is a girl who's been falling apart for months while you've been—"

"While I've been what?" I cut him off, my voice dangerous.

"While you've been destroying yourself trying to prove you don't care about her," Nick said bluntly. "And destroying her in the process."

The words hit me like a physical blow. "You don't know what you're talking about."

"Don't I?" Nick stepped closer, his beta instincts making him bold. "When's the last time you actually enjoyed yourself, Gabriel? When's the last time you laughed? When's the last time you did anything that wasn't calculated to prove how unattached you are?"

I opened my mouth to respond, but nothing came out. Because he was right. Everything I'd done for months had been about proving I didn't need her, didn't want her, didn't care about her.

"That's what I thought," Nick said quietly. "And meanwhile, Jasmine's been—"

"Been what?" I demanded.

Nick hesitated, like he was weighing whether to tell me something. "She's been having nightmares. For months. Sarah and Kylie are worried about her. She's losing weight, she's not sleeping, and now apparently she's having some kind of episodes during training."

My blood turned to ice. "What kind of episodes?"

"I don't know the details," Nick said. "But whatever's happening to her, it's getting worse. And you—" He shook his head. "You've been so busy proving you don't care that you haven't noticed she's been falling apart."

Before I could respond, he walked away, leaving me standing alone in the field with his words echoing in my head.

Some choices can't be undone.

What if I'd already made the wrong choice? What if my determination to stay strong and unattached had cost me something I couldn't get back?

I pulled out my phone and stared at it for a long moment, my thumb hovering over the screen. I'd gotten her number weeks ago—I'd told myself it was just in case of emergencies, just because she was connected to my friends. But I'd never used it.

Until now.

The urge to reach out to her was overwhelming, but I knew it would be a mistake. This went against everything I'd been working toward, everything I believed about leadership and strength. She'd made it clear she wanted nothing to do with me.

Maybe I'd succeeded too well in pushing her away.

I shoved the phone back in my pocket without sending anything. What was the point? She'd already told me to stay away from her, and maybe that was for the best. Maybe this was exactly what I'd been trying to achieve all along.

But as I walked through the halls of the pack house, past the portraits of former alphas who'd led with strength and authority, I couldn't shake the feeling that I'd made a terrible mistake. Her words from earlier kept echoing in my head: "Stay away from me." The pain in her voice when she'd said it, the way she'd looked at me like I was the last person she wanted to see.

And maybe, just maybe, real strength wasn't about pushing people away.

Maybe it was about having the courage to let them in.

But it might already be too late for that.

The afternoon stretched ahead of me, full of meetings and training sessions and all the responsibilities that came with being the future alpha. I should've been focused on those things, should've been proving myself worthy of the position I'd been born to fill.

Instead, I found myself thinking about split knuckles and haunted eyes, about the way Jasmine had looked at me like I was the last person she wanted to see.

And wondering if I'd already lost something I didn't even know I'd wanted until it was gone.

The thought scared me more than any enemy ever could.

Because for the first time in my life, I was starting to think that maybe being alone wasn't the same thing as being strong.

Maybe it was just being alone.

And maybe that wasn't enough anymore.

I spent the rest of the afternoon going through the motions—reviewing territory maps, discussing security protocols, meeting with pack advisors. But my heart wasn't in any of it. Every task felt hollow, meaningless, like I was just killing time until I could figure out what the hell I was supposed to do about Jasmine.

By evening, I was ready to climb the walls. I'd made my choice months ago—to stay away from her, to prove I didn't need her, to be the kind of alpha who led with logic instead of emotion. But seeing her today, seeing the pain in her eyes and knowing I'd caused at least some of it, made me question everything I thought I knew about strength and leadership.

Maybe Nick was right. Maybe I'd been so busy proving I didn't care that I'd missed what was actually important.

Maybe real strength wasn't about being untouchable.

Maybe it was about having something worth protecting.

And maybe I'd already lost it.