The Woman He Mocked Is An Alpha Heiress

chapter 9

HAILEY

I still.

And for a moment, I just look at him.

Really look at him.

Because if I’m being honest, that’s not the answer I was expecting.

The Eamon I knew… would have said something else.

He would have told me to let it go.

He would have said revenge only makes you like the people who hurt you.

He would have looked at me with that same stubborn calm and tried to pull me back from the edge, even if I didn’t want to be pulled.

And I would have rolled my eyes.

And maybe… just maybe… I would have listened.

But this—

This version of him didn't say that.

And I don’t know what that means.

So I keep looking.

At his face that is illuminated by the moonlight.

At the way his jaw is set, like he’s holding something in.

At the way his eyes stay on mine, steady, but not soft in the way I remember.

And finally, I notice it.

The difference.

The change.

Maybe the garden on my way here wasn’t the only thing that feels unfamiliar.

My Eamie changed too.

My best friend.

The thought settles slowly, and something in my chest tightens again, but this time, it’s not just pain.

It’s… something else.

Something I can’t quite name.

My gaze drifts slightly, taking in the small things I noticed before but didn't dwell on.

His hair.

It’s longer now.

Golden and pulled back into a loose bun at the nape of his neck, and it makes him look older somehow.

Sharper and more distant.

And then his eyes—

Those forest green eyes I’ve known all my life.

The ones that always felt… alive and bright and full of something warm and constant.

They are still green.

But the spark… it's not the same.

It's dimmer now like something in him had worn down over time.

And I hate that.

Did I have something to do with it?

No. I don't think so. I hope not.

My fingers twitch slightly at my side.

“You changed,” I say quietly.

It’s not an accusation. It’s not even a question.

It’s just… the truth.

He doesn’t respond immediately and for a second, I think he won’t.

But then he lets out a slow breath, and his gaze shifts away from me, settling somewhere past my shoulder as he stands up.

“People do that,” he says simply, turning away from me.

And I don’t know why, but that answer feels heavier than it should because it sounds like something he didn’t just learn but something he had to accept.

I swallow.

“And you?” he adds after a moment, his eyes coming back to mine. “You think you’re the same?”

The question catches me off guard.

Because I don’t even need to think about it.

“No,” I admit.

My voice is softer now, honest in a way I can’t hide.

“Not even close.”

A small silence falls between us again.

But this one feels different and less awkward. It's like we are both seeing each other clearly for the first time in a long time.

And it's uncomfortable but familiar at the same time.

I exhale slowly, my gaze dropping to the ground before I speak again.

“I thought you would tell me not to do it.” I say.

“Do what?” I hear him say and I see his shoes turn back to my direction.

“Want revenge.” I clarify. “Or act on it.”

“I would have.” He says.

My eyes lift to him.

“Back then.” He adds.

The words sit between us, heavy and quiet.

And I feel them more than I hear them.

But maybe that’s the thing about time.

It doesn’t just pass.

It changes people in ways you don’t notice until you stand in front of them again and realise they don’t react the way they used to, and they don’t say the things you expected, and suddenly, the version of them you held onto in your head doesn’t quite fit anymore.

And it hurts in a strange way.

My brows pull together slightly as I swallow.

“What changed?” I ask.

It comes out softer than I intend, but I don’t take it back.

He doesn’t hesitate this time as he glances at me over his shoulder.

“Me.”

My mouth parts and closes just to parr again, the questions sitting on my tongue.

What about you changed?

When?

Because of what?

Because of me?

They press against my throat but I don't say anything.

I don’t know if I’m ready to hear the answers.

So instead, I inhale slowly, filling my lungs with the cold night air, and I let it out just as slowly.

And I look away.

My eyes drift around the gazebo, taking in everything like I need something else to hold onto.

The wooden beams.

The faint ripple of the water.

The petals scattered across its surface.

It still has the same familiar smell.

Cool air and soft blossoms.

And yet… not quite.

“You said you only came here…” I start, my voice quiet. “Once since I was gone. And tonight makes it the second.”

I pause.

Then I look back at him.

“Why?”

He doesn’t answer immediately but after a few seconds, he did.

“I was away,” he says simply.

I blink.

“Away?” I repeat.

He nods once, his gaze shifting past me again.

“Left Wolfnest not long after you did,” he adds.

My chest tightens slightly.

“You left?” I ask, surprised before I can stop myself.

He lets out a small breath.

“Didn’t see a reason to stay.”

“But you are beta heir…” I say, my voice small.

He huffs out a quiet breath as he walks forward to lean back slightly against the railin, his arms folding loosely over his chest.

“And you are the future Alpha,” he replies, his tone calm but pointed. “And still, you left.”

The words don’t sound harsh but they land anyway.

I look away, my fingers brushing lightly against the wood beside me.

“That was different,” I say, even though it doesn’t sound convincing even to me.

He tilts his head slightly.

“Was it?”

I don’t answer immediately.

Because how do I explain that I left for love?

That I left because I believed in something that felt bigger than everything else?

Isn't leaving for love enough of an excuse?

“That bond…” I start, then pause, searching for the right words. “It wasn’t something I could ignore.”

He watches me quietly.

“I know,” he says after a moment. “I never said you should have.”

“But you still left everything else behind,” he adds.

I nod slowly.

“I did.”

Silence settles again, but this one feels more like understanding than tension.

I exhale softly, and my gaze drifts back to the water.

“I hid my face for years,” I say after a moment, almost absentmindedly. “The only female Alpha heir, and no one knew what I looked like.”

He lets out a small breath that almost sounds like a quiet laugh.

“Everyone was waiting,” he says. “There were rumors everywhere.”

“I heard them when I was out. And it sounds too funny even to me.” I chuckle. “Some even said I have a jagged scar cutting across my face.”

He clicks his tongue.

We go quiet again and then, his voice pierces through the silence.

“I'm sorry, Hails.”

I freeze. That was somehow not… expected.

“For what?” I ask.

“For everything.”

I hum.

It’s small and barely there.

But it’s the only sound I can make.

Because I didn’t know how much I needed to hear those words until he said it.

Didn’t know how much it would settle something inside me that has been restless for so long.

My chest tightens, and I inhale sharply, turning my attention back to the water quickly to hide the tears pooling in my eyes.

I press my lips together slightly, mentally chastising myself.

Get it together.

You’ve cried enough for one night.

Even for the whole month.

I exhale slowly and focus on the water.

And then—

“I'm leaving tomorrow morning.”