The garage had gone silent. Every wolf present was watching us, waiting to see what would happen. The tension was thick enough to choke on.
I should have left. Should have turned and walked away like I'd done at the hospital, like I'd done in the forest. But my feet wouldn't move. I was rooted to the spot, trapped in Skyler's gaze.
"Everyone out," Marcus said, his voice brooking no argument. "Now."
The pack members filed out quickly, the young wolf Skyler had attacked scrambling away with obvious relief. Within moments, it was just the three of us—me, Skyler, and Marcus.
"What the hell was that?" Marcus demanded, rounding on Skyler.
"He said—" Skyler's jaw clenched. "It doesn't matter."
"It does matter. You nearly shifted in the middle of the garage. You could have killed him."
"I had it under control."
"Did you?" Marcus's voice was sharp. "Because from where I'm standing, you looked about two seconds from letting your wolf tear that kid apart."
Skyler said nothing. His eyes kept drifting to me, then away, like he couldn't help himself but was ashamed to be caught looking.
"What did he say?" I asked quietly.
Both men turned to me. Skyler's expression was tortured.
"Wren, you don't—"
"What did he say, Skyler?"
He was quiet for a long moment. Then, so softly I almost didn't hear it: "He asked if you were single. Said you looked good. Asked if anyone had claimed you yet."
Oh.
The jealousy, the possessiveness—it made sense now. Some wolf had expressed interest in me, and Skyler's wolf had reacted violently. Protecting what it still considered its mate, even if the human had rejected that bond.
"He was just making conversation," I said. "He didn't mean anything by it."
"I know." Skyler's hands clenched into fists. "Logically, I know that. But my wolf... he doesn't care about logic. He just heard another male talking about claiming you, and he—" He cut himself off, breathing hard.
"You need to get this under control," Marcus said. "I've given you leeway because you're my best enforcer, because you've served this pack faithfully for years. But I can't have you attacking pack members because your wolf is unstable."
"I know."
"Do you? Because this isn't the first incident. You put two wolves in the infirmary last month because they got too rough during training. You nearly started a war with the Thornwood pack when their Beta made a comment about our territory. And now this."
Skyler's shoulders slumped. He looked defeated in a way I'd never seen him look before. "I'll fix it."
"How?" Marcus's voice softened slightly. "How are you going to fix this when the root cause is standing ten feet away from you and you can barely breathe in the same room as her?"
I flinched at the words, at the truth in them.
"That's not fair," Skyler said quietly.
"No, what's not fair is what you did to her five years ago." Marcus glanced at me, then back at Skyler. "I know, by the way. She told me. About the rejection."
Skyler went very still. "She did?"
"Someone had to explain why my Head Enforcer is falling apart." Marcus crossed his arms. "You want to tell me why you rejected your mate, Skyler? Why you threw away the one thing most wolves spend their whole lives hoping for?"
"It's complicated."
"That's what everyone keeps saying. I'm tired of complicated. Give me simple."
Skyler's eyes met mine across the garage. I saw the plea in them, the desperate wish that I wouldn't have to hear this. But I found I wanted to know. Needed to know. Ronan had hinted that Skyler had his reasons, and Marcus clearly thought there was more to the story than simple rejection.
"My father," Skyler said finally, the words seeming to be dragged from him, "used the mate bond to control my mother. To abuse her. He could sense her emotions, her location, her every thought through their connection. And he used it as a weapon. When she finally tried to leave him, he used the bond to track her down. To hurt her. To break her."
I'd heard pieces of this story before—whispers about Skyler's father, about why his mother always seemed so fragile. But hearing it from him, seeing the pain in his eyes, made it real in a way it hadn't been before.
"When Lena finally severed the bond," Skyler continued, "it nearly killed her. She survived, but she was never the same. Fragile. Frightened. A shell of who she'd been." His voice cracked. "I grew up watching what the mate bond did to her. How it destroyed her. And I swore I would never do that to someone. I would never become my father."
"So when the bond snapped with Wren..." Marcus prompted gently.
"I panicked." Skyler's eyes were bright with unshed tears. "All I could see was my father. All I could think was that I would do the same thing to her. I would hurt her, control her, destroy her the way he destroyed my mother. So I... I pushed her away. I rejected the bond because I thought I was protecting her."
The words hung in the air between us. I stood frozen, processing what I'd just heard. Part of me wanted to rage at him, to tell him that his fear didn't excuse the pain he'd caused. But another part—a part I'd tried so hard to silence—understood.
He'd been afraid. Not of me, but of himself. Of what he might become.
"And now?" Marcus asked. "Five years later, do you still think you were protecting her?"
"No." Skyler's voice was hollow. "Now I know I was just a coward. I hurt her worse than my father ever could have because I didn't trust myself. Didn't trust the bond. Didn't trust *her*." He finally looked directly at me, his gaze pleading. "I'm sorry, Wren. I know it doesn't change anything. I know I don't deserve your forgiveness. But I need you to know that rejecting you was the biggest mistake of my life."
I opened my mouth, but no words came out. What was I supposed to say to that? That I forgave him? I didn't. That I understood? Maybe I did, but understanding didn't erase five years of pain.
"I was broken," I said finally, my voice shaking. "When you rejected me, it broke something inside me. I had to leave everything—my family, my pack, my home—just to survive the pain. I had to rebuild myself from nothing. And you want to stand there and tell me it was all because you were scared?"
"I know—"
"You don't know!" The words burst out of me, sharp and angry. "You don't know what it's like to have your entire world collapse in one moment. To feel the bond snap into place and know that this is it, this is the person you're meant to be with, only to have them look at you like you're nothing. Like you're an inconvenience. A mistake."
"You weren't a mistake."
"Then why did you make me feel like one?" Tears were streaming down my face now, five years of pent-up pain finally finding release. "Why did you call me your sister? Why did you tell me the bond meant nothing?"
"Because I'm an idiot." Skyler took a step toward me, then stopped when I flinched. "Because I was so wrapped up in my own fear, my own trauma, that I couldn't see what I was doing to you. And by the time I realized... by the time I understood what I'd thrown away... you were gone."
"Good," I spat. "I'm glad I left. I'm glad I built a life without you. Because if I'd stayed, if I'd been here watching you move on, watching you be fine while I was dying inside..." I shook my head. "I wouldn't have survived it."
Marcus cleared his throat. "I think that's enough for today."
"No." I wiped my eyes, straightening my spine. "I need to say this. I need him to hear it." I turned back to Skyler. "You broke me. You shattered my heart and walked away like it meant nothing. And now you expect me to what? Feel sorry for you because you're suffering? To forgive you because you had a tragic backstory?"
"I don't expect anything," Skyler said quietly. "I just... I needed you to know why. I needed you to understand that it was never about you not being enough. You were—you *are*—everything. And I threw it away because I was too damaged to see what I had."
"Well, now you know," I said bitterly. "Now you get to live with the consequences of your choices, just like I've had to live with them."
I turned to leave, done with this conversation, done with the pain and the tears and the memories. But Skyler's voice stopped me.
"I've been living with them for five years, Wren. Every single day. And I'll keep living with them for the rest of my life if I have to. But if there's even a chance—even the smallest possibility—that you could forgive me someday..." He paused, swallowing hard. "I'll wait. However long it takes. I'll wait."
I looked back at him, at the broken man standing in the middle of the garage. At the desperation in his eyes, the hope he was trying so hard to hide.
"Don't wait for me," I said softly. "I'm not worth destroying yourself over."
"You're worth everything," he said. "That's what I finally understand. And I'm sorry it took losing you for me to figure it out."
I left before I could say something I'd regret. Before the part of me that still loved him—that would always love him, damn it—could convince me to stay.
Marcus caught up with me in the parking lot.
"That was a lot," he said.
"Yeah." I fumbled with my car keys, hands shaking. "I need to go."
"Wren." He waited until I looked at him. "For what it's worth, I think he's telling the truth. About why he did it. About how he feels now."
"I know he is." That was the worst part. "But that doesn't make it hurt any less."
"No," Marcus agreed. "It doesn't. But maybe, in time..."
"Don't," I said. "Please. Everyone keeps telling me to give him a chance, to hear him out, to understand his pain. But what about my pain? What about what *I* went through?"
"You're right." Marcus held up his hands. "I'm sorry. Your feelings matter. Your hurt matters. And nobody has the right to tell you how to handle this."
I nodded, blinking back fresh tears. "Thank you."
"But Wren?" He waited until I met his eyes. "You should know that the bond goes both ways. Whatever pain you're feeling from the rejection, he's feeling it too. Maybe even more, since he's the one who caused it. Guilt has a way of making everything worse."
I got in my car without responding. As I drove away, I saw Skyler in my rearview mirror, standing in the garage doorway, watching me leave.
Just like he'd watched me leave five years ago.
Except this time, he looked like watching me go was killing him.