Howl of the Unchosen

5

Chapter 5: Jason's POV

I was a mess, tangled in my thoughts. The events of the previous night kept haunting me, gnawing at the edges of my mind. I couldn't shake the feeling that I had crossed a line, and now there was no going back.

I had a responsibility to fulfill—a promise to Fiona that I couldn't break, yet I let myself go through with it that night. I unfettered myself and gave myself to another, and in such a way that there was no coming back. Her eyes now haunted me—Lena's. The crystal beauty that I still couldn't place a finger on. I couldn't get her image out of my mind.

Her eyes sparkled with mischief, the sound of her laughter filled me with a warmth I couldn't explain. Every glance, every touch, felt electric, like sparks of life igniting within me. My attraction to her now was out of control, the feelings I had impossible to ignore.

I tossed and turned on my bed, plagued with confusion, overloaded with arousal. With Lena, everything was raw—uncontrollable, passionate. But with Fiona, it felt like I was playing a role, like I was bound to a script I never wrote. It wasn’t a life; it was a performance! I loved Fiona too, no doubt. I would die for her if it meant keeping her safe, because our bond stemmed from deep within me from the moment I became friends with her. But Lena was someone I couldn't do without. It felt like we had known each other for years before I was even born, like our collision was meant to be.

I stood up, deciding that I had to do something about this. It was set in stone, but it had to change. No one was coming to clear up the confusion. If I didn't set things in motion now, I would be trapped forever with no escape, and as resilient as I was, eventually I would break. I could only keep up my facade with Fiona for so long. Things had changed within me; it was high time they started changing without.

The walls, lined with dark wood paneling, seemed to stretch endlessly upwards, the high ceiling arching like the inside of a cathedral. The faint scent of polished wood and rich perfume lingered in the air, thick with the weight of impending tradition. Dad was in the wedding hall, organizing some of the preparations. The sight of him alone made me want to turn back. The Alpha wasn't supposed to be involved personally in things like this, but for him to be, it showed just how much it mattered to him—enough indication that this was a failed mission before it even started.

A smile blossomed on his lips when he saw me, and he spread his arms for a hug. "My son! The strength of my days and the star of our future!"

I felt uneasy at the praise. I really should keep my opinions to myself, but I was here already and I wasn't going back without delivering my message. "I'm not going through with it," I announced.

"What?" he asked, looking uncertain and confused.

"Dad, I know you arranged this from the time I was born, and you have your good reasons. But I don't want to marry Fiona anymore. I found someone else—a girl called Lena. I'd like for her to be my bride tomorrow instead."

His smile transitioned into a perpetual frown like dew when morning progressed to noon. The blazing sun was next as he assaulted me violently with his words.

"You must be out of your mind!" His face twisted with rage, his voice rising to a crescendo. "How dare you spring this up suddenly when it's 11 o'clock? The wedding is tomorrow, and you are suddenly getting cold feet? This isn't the boy I've raised!"

"It's not cold feet," I interrupted, feeling he was misunderstanding me. "I love Fiona, but not in that way. She's a sister to me. And I don't want her to get hurt, but my own happiness is at stake here. Lena is my true love, the one I want to have children with."

My father's jaw clenched, a muscle in his neck twitching as he took a step forward. "This isn't love, Jason. It's selfishness. You want to toss aside generations of sacrifice for what? A fleeting crush? What about the pack? The Ashford alliance?"

"I can't pretend with Fiona anymore, not after everything we've shared. I never wanted to hurt her, but my heart belongs to Lena. Don't you understand what this means—for both of us?"

I straightened my back, though a cold chill of dread crept up my spine. He had a good point: this wasn't just for me. I had to consider that before I made my decision. But how could I choose between my duty and the love that consumed me? My heart beat erratically, the weight of this decision sinking deeper into my bones.

He made the priorities pretty clear with his next words: "You're a werewolf, Jason! You don't have the luxury of emotions like this. You have a duty—a duty to the pack, to the future of our kind. Marrying Fiona isn't just tradition; it's survival. Do you understand that?"

I wanted to argue, to fight back, but I couldn't. The words stuck in my throat. I couldn't refute anything he said because it was true. I was disarmed completely. Frustration surged within me, hot and sharp. My fists clenched at my sides, and I had to fight the urge to scream.

He noticed that I was still uncertain, that I hadn't given up yet, and shook his head in disappointment. "You will do what you have to do," he proclaimed and gestured with his hands.

As the guards moved in, their hands steady but firm, I could feel the weight of their gaze, their eyes betraying the faintest hint of pity. I didn't resist as they led me from the room, but every step felt like a blow, a nail driving deeper into my chest. I had a sinking feeling that pulled me over the edge. This was it—my fate was sealed.