Bled For the Wrong Alpha

AIRA’s POV I died with his name on my lips and betrayal in my chest. When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the day it all began. The letter was in my hands. Neatly folded, edges crisp, my handwriting careful and embarrassingly hopeful on the inside. I knew what it said without opening it. I had written it three times before getting the words right, back when I still believed the right words could make someone love you. I was standing in front of my father’s building, the morning air cool against my skin, my heart doing that stupid thing it used to do whenever I thought about Shawn. It didn’t do that anymore. “Finally, our lover girl is going to confess!” Ellen’s voice came before she did. My throat tightened instantly. She ran from a distance, the way she always did, arms wide, hair flying, the picture of someone who couldn’t contain her excitement for you. I used to find it endearing. I used to think that was what a best friend looked like. I smiled at her. It didn’t reach my eyes but she wasn’t looking for that. She never was. “Come on, we have to rush before he leaves his quarters.” She tucked her hand into mine and pulled. I let her pull me one step, then I stopped. “I forgot something in my room.” She groaned dramatically. “Aira.” “I’ll be quick.” I slipped my hand free and turned back toward the building before she could read my face. I walked straight to my room, closed the door, and stood in front of the mirror. I looked the same. No wrinkles or disheveled hair. Same skin, same eyes, same girl who had no idea what was coming. But I was not the same. I lifted the hem of my shirt and pressed my fingers against my stomach, smooth and unmarked, and still I felt it. The ghost of a wound that hadn’t happened yet. I dropped my shirt and looked myself in the eye. I knew what Ellen was. I knew what Shawn was. I knew what my smiling little sister with her careful gifts and sweeter words was too. I was not going to pretend otherwise. But I wasn't going to run either. Running meant leaving without answers and I had died once already without understanding the full truth. I would not do that again. I glanced at the letter in my hands, then tossed it into the trash. Pulling out a clean sheet, I scoffed. “They want a letter? Fine. I’ll give them one they won’t forget.” I took my time with it. Not because I meant a word of it but because it had to look exactly like the letter a girl in love would write. Careful words, soft edges, and a full poem of how in love I was. I sealed it, smoothed my dress, and headed out. Ellen was still waiting by the door. She brightened when she saw me. “There she is. Ready?” “Ready,” I said. She linked her arm through mine and we walked. I matched her energy, laughed when she laughed, let her talk about how Shawn was going to react, how this was going to be the start of everything. I was very good at listening now. I noticed things I never used to. The way her eyes moved when she talked about him. The excitement in her voice as she mentioned his name, I used to think it was all because of me. But I saw it clearly now. We were nearly at the path that curved toward Shawn’s quarters when I stopped. I froze on the spot. “I think I left my bracelet,” I said. Ellen frowned. “Aira.” “Go ahead. I’ll catch up.” She hesitated for just a second, something moving behind her eyes, then she smiled and turned. I watched her go. I turned and walked in the opposite direction. I wasn’t ready to face Shawn yet. Not today. Today I just needed to think, to breathe, to remind myself that I had time and that time was the one thing I had not had before. I walked past the side gate and onto the open path that ran along the edge of our pack’s boundary. The air was cooler here. Quieter. I slowed down and let myself just exist in it for a moment, this body that didn’t hurt, this morning that hadn’t turned wrong yet. I was so far inside my own head that I didn’t see him until I walked straight into a wall that turned out to be a person. I lost my footing completely. The letter slipped from my hand and I felt the ground coming before I could do anything about it. Then a hand caught my arm. Then another found my waist and I was pulled upright in one smooth motion before a single part of me touched the ground. I looked up. Vance. The cold alpha of the Blackridge pack stood looking down at me, his jaw tight, his expression doing that thing it always did when he was trying to look like he felt nothing. I had spent years believing he did. That he hated the sight of me and that I disgusted him. But I knew better now. I had seen his face at the very end. Felt his arms, heard his voice break open in a way I never thought possible from a man like him. He had held me while I was dying and said the words he had apparently carried for years and then he had chosen to follow me into the dark rather than stay behind without me. He didn’t know that I knew any of that. He looked at me the way he always had, cool and unreadable. More glare than gaze, waiting for me to collect myself, apologize, and scurry off like I used to. I didn’t scurry. I straightened up slowly, my hand still resting lightly against his chest where I had grabbed him for balance. I felt him go very still beneath my palm. I tilted my head and looked at him, really looked, in a way I never had the courage to before. “Vance,” I said. Just his name. Something shifted in his eyes. Just for a second. Then it was gone and the wall was back up. He stepped back and bent to pick up my letter from the ground. He held it out without a word. I took it from him, my fingers brushing his, and I smiled. Not the nervous smile I used to give him. Something slower and much more deliberate. “Thank you,” I said and walked past him. I didn’t look back but I didn’t need to. I could feel his eyes on me all the way down the path. Last time I had spent my whole life chasing the wrong person. Giving my heart to someone who was already sharpening a knife behind my back while this man had carried something real and never said a word until it was too late. Not this time.