Reborn: The Alpha I Called a Mistake

Chapter 6

Aurelia’s POV

I wanted to run back to the home I had shared with Ryan and hide inside it, surrounded by everything that still smelled like us. But I couldn’t face him. Not now. So I went to Lena’s instead.

Everything around me felt like a blur.

I couldn’t believe Ryan had thrown away years of love and chosen another woman.

I had no one else in this world. He had been my everything. Maybe I had depended on him too much, because even now, some foolish part of me still believed he would come running after me, pull me into his arms, and tell me that none of it was true.

But I couldn’t forget the familiarity in his eyes when he kissed her.

It hadn’t been the first time.

In this life, I didn’t want to think about that. I especially didn’t want to ask the question that had been haunting me since I saw them together.

How long?

By the time the sun began its slow descent, the city had swallowed me whole. Somehow, I found myself standing outside a bar I didn’t remember walking to.

The neon sign above the entrance buzzed faintly, casting blue and pink reflections across the tinted windows. For a long moment, I stared at my reflection. My face was pale, my eyes too wide, my black hair tangled by the wind.

I looked like a woman standing at the edge of a cliff.

Perhaps I was.

The thought of going inside made me turn around.

Instead, I walked the twelve blocks back to Lena’s apartment, my feet moving with a purpose my heart didn’t share.

Lena wasn’t home. A note on the kitchen counter explained that she’d been called in for a double shift.

The silence of the apartment felt like both a wound and a balm.

I went straight to her closet.

My fingers skimmed over the hangers until they found what I was looking for—a deep burgundy dress, the color of old wine. When I pulled it free, the fabric slipped through my hands like liquid shadow.

It was daring, with a plunging neckline and a back crossed by delicate straps that left most of my skin bare. It was the kind of dress that made a woman look like a secret.

I changed quickly.

With careful hands, I darkened my lashes and painted my lips a deep crimson. I left my hair loose in soft waves and exchanged my simple earrings for Lena’s gold hoops.

When I looked into the mirror, I hardly recognized myself.

I didn’t see Aurelia Rose—the old girl carrying the weight of a betrayal.

I saw someone older. Harder.

Someone who had learned to wear her pain like perfume.

My gaze fell on the wine sitting in Lena’s kitchen cabinet. I opened it, poured myself a glass, and drank half of it before heading for the door.

Tonight, I didn’t want to be Aurelia.

I wanted to be someone who didn’t care.

The bar was called The Velvet Hour, and it was the kind of place that didn’t ask questions.

The doorman barely glanced at me before letting me through.

Darkness swallowed me as soon as I entered. The deep pulse of music replaced the noise of the street, accompanied by the clink of ice against glasses and the low murmur of voices.

The VIP section was roped off to my left, raised slightly above the main floor and bathed in dim amber light.

That was where I saw him.

Ethan—a striking, strong, muscular man with eyes as dark as a night sky.

At first, I could make out only the broad shape of his body and the faint gleam of his glass beneath the low amber lights. His features were obscured by the shadows, but something about his presence drew my attention.

I couldn’t see him clearly from across the room. Still, I felt his gaze settle in my direction.

Perhaps he had noticed me.

Perhaps he was looking at someone else entirely.

The uncertainty sent an unexpected flutter through my chest.

He sat alone in a leather booth, one hand resting loosely around a glass of amber liquor. His black hair appeared swept away from his face, though the dim lighting softened the details. His charcoal suit was visible only in fragments—the clean line of his shoulders, the open collar of his shirt, and the suggestion of dark ink beneath it.

I couldn’t make out the exact color of his eyes, only that they seemed impossibly dark whenever the shifting lights caught them.

I couldn’t look away.

For one reckless heartbeat, I forgot about Ryan. The betrayal. The questions I couldn’t answer.

All I could feel was the weight of that uncertain stare and the sudden acceleration of my pulse.

He approached just as I was about to take a seat at the main bar.

I didn’t see him clearly until he was close. The darkness had concealed most of his features, but now I could make out his height, his broad shoulders, and the sharp outline of his jaw.

He moved through the crowd with effortless confidence, carrying the quiet authority of a man accustomed to getting what he wanted.

Up close, he was still difficult to read beneath the dim lighting. His face remained partly shadowed, but his presence was unmistakable, and I instinctively tilted my head back to meet his eyes.

“You look lost,” he said, his voice low and smoky. “Or maybe you’re exactly where you meant to be.”

“Maybe both.”

My answer surprised me. My voice sounded steadier than I felt.

I couldn’t clearly see his expression, but I heard the faint amusement in his voice.

“Then let me help you decide.”

He extended his hand.

“Join me.”

I should have hesitated.

Instead, I slipped my hand into his.

His fingers closed around mine, warm and assured. His other hand settled at my waist as he guided me toward a private alcove hidden behind a curtain of beaded strings.

The noise of the bar faded behind us.

“What are you drinking?” he asked.

“Something strong.”

I turned toward him, though the shadows still blurred the details of his face.

“Something that burns.”