THE ROGUE ALPHA’S FORSAKEN MATE

Chapter 2

I cried until my chest hurt.

The tears kept coming no matter how many times I wiped them away, and my body was exhausted from running, but my heart refused to calm down. I wrapped my arms around myself and lowered my head, letting the weight of everything I had lost settle over me like a heavy blanket.

"I hate this," I whispered to the darkness.

A voice came from somewhere behind me, low and unexpected. "You shouldn't be here."

I froze. I turned quickly, but there was no one there, only trees and shadows stretching in every direction. My wolf stirred inside me, alert and uneasy, lifting her head for the first time since I had run from the pack.

Then a figure stepped slowly from between the trees.

He was tall, with broad shoulders and a stillness that made him seem almost like part of the forest itself. As he moved closer, the moonlight caught his features. Dark hair fell across his forehead, his jaw was sharp, and his eyes settled on me with an intensity that made my breath catch.

He stopped a few feet away and looked at my arm. "You're bleeding."

I glanced down and saw blood running from a cut near my elbow. I hadn't even felt it. "I'm fine."

"You're not." He said it without pity, without judgment. He didn't ask why I was crying or why I was alone. He simply stood there, watching me with those dark eyes.

"You shouldn't be here," he repeated.

"I know."

"Then why did you come?"

I looked toward the darkness behind me, toward the pack I had left behind. "Because I couldn't go back."

Something shifted in his expression, subtle but unmistakable. He understood.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a clean piece of cloth. "Give me your arm."

I hesitated, then held it out. He approached carefully and wrapped the cloth around the cut, his fingers brushing my skin. A flicker of warmth passed through me, unexpected and strange. He tied it securely and stepped back. "There."

"Thank you."

He nodded.

I should have walked away, but my feet wouldn't move. "Who are you?" I asked.

His eyes studied me for a long moment. "Someone who knows what it's like to not want to go back."

He didn't explain, and I didn't press. We were both strangers standing in the dark.

He gestured toward a fallen log nearby. "Sit."

I moved toward it and lowered myself onto the rough bark. He remained standing, his gaze scanning the trees as though he was watching for something. "You don't have to stay," I said quietly.

"I know."

"Then why are you?"

He looked at me then, and something in his expression softened, just slightly. "Because no one should be alone tonight."

Something cracked inside me. I had been holding myself together since I ran from that room, trying to be strong, trying not to fall apart completely, but his words undid everything I had been clinging to. The tears came again, hot and relentless, and I didn't have the strength to stop them. I didn't sob or make a sound. I just sat there, letting them fall.

He didn't reach for me. He didn't offer empty comfort. He simply stayed, a steady presence in the darkness, and for reasons I couldn't explain, that meant more than any words could have.

Eventually, the tears stopped. I wiped my face with the back of my hand and let out a shaky breath. "Thank you."

He didn't respond.

He rose and offered me his hand. "Come."

I placed my hand in his, and his fingers closed around mine, warm and solid. He led me through the trees to a small clearing where moonlight pooled on the grass like water. There was a fallen tree nearby, its trunk thick and covered in moss, and he guided me toward it. "Sit."

I sat, and he lowered himself onto the moss beside me. We sat in silence for a long time, the night air cool against my skin. Crickets chirped in the distance, and somewhere in the trees an owl called out.

"You don't have to tell me what happened," he said quietly.

I stared at my hands. The words were there, pressing against my throat, but I couldn't force them out. It was too fresh, too raw.

"Not tonight," I whispered.

"Then don't."

He didn't push. He simply stayed beside me, and that quiet acceptance meant more than I could put into words.

Something shifted between us, a tension I couldn't name. I leaned forward, and he met me halfway. His lips brushed mine, soft and questioning, and I kissed him back. When his hand tangled in my hair, I let myself sink into the feeling, letting it wash over me.

I knew this was reckless. I knew I was making a choice based on pain and loneliness. But for the first time tonight, I didn't feel like I was falling apart.

I pulled back and looked into his eyes. "I don't want to be alone tonight."

"Are you sure?" he asked.

"Yes."

He didn't ask again. When he kissed me the second time, I responded without hesitation. His hands found my waist and pulled me closer, and his body was solid against mine. I knew this could have consequences, but I didn't care about tomorrow. I only wanted to feel something other than pain.

He laid me down on the moss, and I went willingly. His mouth moved across my jaw, down to my collarbone, and I closed my eyes. I didn't think about Declan. I didn't think about Wren. I only thought about him.

His hands were gentle, his touch careful. He moved slowly, as if memorizing me. I felt cherished in a way I had never felt before.

It wasn't about love or forever. It was about two broken people finding comfort in the dark.

When I drifted to sleep beside him, I felt something I hadn't felt in years.

Peace.