Chapter 5
1044 Words
A guttural snarl tore through the air behind me, ice flooding my veins. My heart hammered against my ribs, fear coiling like a serpent in my gut.
Memories of the assault at Pearl Harbour surged—raw, unflinching. But I refused to relive that nightmare.
I broke into a sprint, darting toward the front of the house.
“Steady,” Sky, my wolf, urged, her voice a balm to my frayed nerves. “It’s someone you know. They’re only trying to reach you.”
I slowed but didn’t relent, gaze sweeping the yard’s lengthening shadows as dusk swallowed the trees.
“Who?” I hissed.
“Unclear,” she murmured. “His scent’s faint… but there’s something recognisable.”
My fingers closed around the dagger at my side, poised to strike.
“Show yourself!” I barked, tone unwavering despite the adrenaline scorching my blood.
The silence thickened, suffocating, until a voice slithered from the gloom—low, hauntingly familiar. “It’s me, Angie.”
A figure materialised, backlit by the dying amber light. My breath snagged.
Him.
“How did you find me?” I spat, fury eclipsing dread. “What do you want?”
Nathaniel advanced, his face a mask of frost. Those obsidian eyes pinned me, sharp as a blade. “Why the divorce? Why did you leave?”
I tilted my chin up, holding his glare unflinching. “You know exactly why, Nathaniel. You’re not the man you were. Ever since Yoan lost her mate, everything between us fractured. I did what needed doing.”
He let out a derisive laugh. “‘Needed doing’? You call this righteous, Angie?”
I said nothing, but the flicker of agony in his eyes betrayed him as he reached for my hand.
Rage ignited.
“Don’t you dare touch me!” I snapped, recoiling. “You’ve no right to be here. You don’t even deserve to lay a finger on me—or Iona—ever again!”
He smirked, arms folding. “As your husband, can I not visit your family home? Or even see my own daughter?”
His audacity turned my blood to fire. “We’re done, Nathaniel Byrne! I’m not your Luna, not your wife. You’ve no hold over me now.” I paused, voice laced with acid. “Besides, shouldn’t you be fussing over Yoan and Hazel? Preparing for your little jaunt to the Gryfindor Pack?”
A sly grin crept over his face. “That’s tomorrow’s chore. Today, I’m here for you. You belong at Pearl Harbour. With me.”
“Belong?” My voice quivered, fury cracking through. “You forfeited any right to decide where I belong. We’re done, Nathaniel Byrne. Divorced. You failed as a husband and father! Iona died because of you—and you earned every shred of that divorce!”
Nathaniel’s gaze turned glacial, his voice silkened to a threat. “I never sanctioned it, Angie.”
I gaped at him, struck dumb. The gall. Did he truly believe the wreckage between us could be ignored? That I’d crawl back into his shadow?
Before I could retaliate, the front door hinges whined. My mother’s voice drifted out, oblivious to Nathaniel as I blocked him from view. “Who’s there, Angie? Are you alright?”
I forced a brittle smile. “An old school friend, Mum. Editha Decter. We’re nipping to the café for a catch-up.”
Her scepticism lingered but she relented. “Don’t dawdle. Tomorrow is Iona’s funeral. You need rest, love.”
The second she withdrew, I wrenched Nathaniel’s arm, shoving him behind the house.
“Go. Now,” I snarled.
“Since when do you act without my accord?” he hissed. “What became of our daughter?”
“What became?” I echoed, acid lacing each word. “Do you not recall the attack? Your daughter and I were buried in rubble after that blast! Where were you? Coddling Yoan’s boy!”
“Yoan’s a widow, Angie. She needed—”
“You made me a widow for her sake!” I seethed, voice rising to a shout. My decision stands. Go play house with your true mate and her son.”
“But you don’t get to act without my say!” he snapped. “This could’ve been resolved with proper discussion.”
I stiffened, his words striking like a blade. That woman—the one who’d once begged for his validation, who’d shrunk beneath his indifference—was ash now. She’d died the day he’d left me broken and bleeding to cradle Yoan and her son. Abandoned. Erased.
“Are you serious?” My fists shook at my sides. “This stopped being about you the moment I walked away. I left because I had to. We’re finished. Finally. Let that sink into that thick skull of yours.”
For a heartbeat, his mask slipped—a flash of raw, unguarded hurt. But it vanished, smothered by that smug veneer.
“You’re being hysterical,” he sneered. “This… tantrum changes nothing. I’m here to fix what you’ve broken.”
A hollow laugh escaped me. “Confused? I’ve never seen clearer. You ceased mattering the day I realised I never mattered to you. I’m not confused, Nathaniel. I’m free.”
His face hardened, eyes glinting like flint. “You’re blinded by spite. Whatever lies you’ve swallowed, I’m here. You’re who I want. That’s the truth.”
“Truth?” My voice cracked. “Your truth is a poison. You sidelined me for years—my needs, my heart, always second. Always less. That’s why this ends. Now.”
He closed the distance, desperation bleeding through. “Six years—gone? Is it because we’re not fated? Or… have you found your mate?”
Rage scalded my veins. “This—this is why. You revelled in victimhood while flaunting Yoan for months! Letting the pack whisper about your sordid little affair. Don’t you dare pretend this is about me.”
His face bleached stark, bewilderment etching lines into his brow.
“What in God’s name are you on about?” he rasped, the question frayed—as if the chasm between us had yawned so wide, so final, he’d only just noticed it.
- Writer
