Three:Marissa’s pov
1594 Words
The mansion was quieter than usual, but the silence was far from comforting. I felt as if eyes were following me, judging me for every step I took. The suspense had been unbearable since Luna Elena returned, her presence throwing everything off balance.
Marco’s behavior wasn’t helping either. His stalking, his confrontations, and the ridiculous gifts he left outside my door were pushing me closer to the edge. And Donovan—he wasn’t the same. He wasn’t distant exactly, but something about him had shifted. He seemed torn, as though Elena’s return had opened a door he’d slammed shut long ago.
I didn’t know how much longer I could take it.
It was late in the afternoon when there was a loud knock on my door.
“Marissa, open up!” Marco’s voice was sharp, demanding.
I sighed and rubbed my temples before heading to the door. I didn’t have the energy for this.
“What do you want, Marco?” I said, swinging the door open.
He barged in without waiting for an invitation, his eyes scanning the room like he expected to find someone else there.
“We need to talk,” he said, his voice low.
I crossed my arms, already tired of this conversation. “There’s nothing to talk about.”
“Don’t do that,” Marco snapped. “Don’t pretend like none of this matters.”
I stared at him, incredulous. “You’re joking, right? After everything you’ve done, you think you get to come in here and lecture me?”
His jaw tightened, and he stepped closer. “You’ve been avoiding me, Marissa. You don’t answer my calls. You don’t even look at me. How do you think that makes me feel?”
“How do you think I felt when I walked in on you and Vivian?” I shot back, my voice rising. “Or when you told me you didn’t love me anymore? Do you even realize what you did to me?”
“I made a mistake!” Marco yelled. “I was stupid, okay? But Vivian doesn’t mean anything to me. She never did.”
I laughed bitterly, shaking my head. “You don’t get to rewrite history just because you regret it now. You chose her, Marco. You chose her over me.”
“I didn’t love her!” he shouted, his voice cracking.
“You didn’t love me either,” I said quietly.
That shut him up. For a moment, he just stood there, his expression torn between anger and guilt.
"I did love you,” he said finally, his voice soft. “I still do.”
“Stop,” I said, my voice firm. “You don’t love me, Marco. You love the idea of me. You love the fact that you can’t have me anymore.”
“That’s not true,” he protested, but I didn’t let him finish.
“Leave, Marco,” I said, pointing to the door. “We’re done here.”
He hesitated, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. “This isn’t over, Marissa. You think you’ve won, but you haven’t.”
And with that, he stormed out, slamming the door behind him.
I collapsed onto the edge of my bed, letting out a shaky breath. My hands trembled as I tried to calm myself down. Marco’s words echoed in my mind, but I refused to let them get to me. He didn’t have any power over me anymore.
A soft knock on the door pulled me from my thoughts.
“Marissa, it’s me,” Donovan’s deep voice called out.
I stood and opened the door, letting him in. He stepped inside, his expression calm but concerned.
“Marco was here,” I said before he could ask.
His eyes darkened, and his jaw tightened. “What did he want?”
“To remind me why I don’t want anything to do with him,” I said with a bitter smile.
Donovan studied me for a moment, his gaze softening. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” I replied quickly.
“No, you’re not,” he said, stepping closer. “You don’t have to pretend with me, Marissa.”
I looked away, swallowing the lump in my throat. “Why do you care, Donovan? Why do you even bother?”
He was quiet for a moment before he spoke. “Because I see you, Marissa. I see how strong you are, even when you don’t feel it. I see the fire in you, and I won’t let anyone try to extinguish it—not Marco, not anyone.”
His words hit me harder than I expected, and for a moment, I didn’t know what to say.
“Thank you,” I whispered, my voice barely audible.
He nodded, his hand brushing against mine before he turned to leave.
The days dragged on, each one feeling heavier than the last. Luna Elena’s presence loomed over the mansion like a storm cloud. She was everywhere—talking to Donovan, smiling at the pack members, and acting like she hadn’t abandoned them all those years ago.
One afternoon, I decided to clear my head in the garden. The fresh air and blooming flowers usually helped me relax, but today, even that wasn’t enough.
“You look lost in thought,” a familiar voice said behind me.
I turned to see Elena standing there, her expression calm and unreadable.
“What do you want?” I asked, not bothering to hide my irritation.
She smiled faintly. “Just a conversation.”
I crossed my arms. “About what?”
“Donovan,” she said simply.
Her answer made my stomach twist, but I kept my expression neutral. “What about him?”
Elena stepped closer, her tone soft and almost pitying. “You’re wasting your time, you know. Donovan and I... we have a bond you can’t compete with.”
I clenched my fists, forcing myself to stay calm. “That bond didn’t stop you from betraying him,” I said coldly.
Her smile faltered, but she recovered quickly. “People make mistakes, Marissa. You’ll learn that someday.”
“I’ve already learned that,” I shot back. “And I’ve also learned that people like you only come back when they want something.”
Elena’s eyes narrowed, but she didn’t respond. Instead, she turned and walked away, leaving me fuming in the garden.
I found Donovan in his office. He was sitting at his desk, a glass of whiskey in his hand.
“Elena spoke to me today,” I said, closing the door behind me.
He looked up, his expression unreadable. “What did she say?”
“She thinks she still has a claim on you,” I replied, my voice steady.
Donovan sighed, rubbing his temples. “Elena’s always been good at stirring up trouble.”
“Why is she still here, Donovan?” I asked, my voice rising slightly. “Why are you letting her stay?”
He stood, his gaze locking onto mine. “Because I need answers, Marissa. I need to know why she came back. And until I do, I can’t send her away.”
“Do you still love her?” The question slipped out before I could stop myself.
Donovan froze, his expression unreadable. “No,” he said finally. “I don’t love her. Not anymore.”
I nodded, but the doubt still lingered in the back of my mind.
“You mean more to me than she ever did,” he added, his voice softer now.
The honesty in his tone made my chest tighten, and for the first time in days, I felt a glimmer of hope.
The next morning, I woke up with a sharp pain in my stomach. At first, I thought it was just a cramp, but it quickly grew worse. Panic set in as I tried to get out of bed.
“Something’s wrong,” I whispered, clutching my stomach.
I stumbled to the door, barely able to stay on my feet. Just as I was about to collapse, strong arms caught me.
“Marissa!” Donovan’s voice was filled with panic.
I looked up at him, tears streaming down my face. “It hurts,” I gasped.
Without a word, he scooped me up and carried me down the hall. “Hold on, Marissa. I’m taking you to the doctor.”
The ride to the infirmary was a blur. By the time we arrived, I could barely keep my eyes open.
“She’s pregnant,” Donovan told the doctor as they rushed me inside. “You have to save them both.”
His voice was the last thing I heard before everything went dark.
When I woke up, the room was quiet. The pain was gone, replaced by a dull ache. I turned my head and saw Donovan sitting beside me, his head in his hands.
“Donovan,” I croaked, my voice weak.
His head shot up, relief flooding his face. “You’re awake.”
“What happened?”
“You were under too much stress,” he said, his voice heavy. “The doctor said it put the baby at risk, but you’re both going to be okay.”
Tears filled my eyes as his words sank in. “I thought I was going to lose—”
“You didn’t,” he said firmly, taking my hand in his. “And I won’t let anything happen to you or the baby, Marissa. I promise.”
- Writer
