CHOSEN

Chapter 2. Guilt

I stared at my reflection in the mirror for a long time, like if I looked hard enough, I’d find a version of myself that hadn’t ruined everything.

My face was puffy, eyes slightly swollen, skin dull in that way it gets after too little sleep and too many emotions. My wavy hair was a disaster—tangled, flattened on one side, frizzing out on the other like it had survived a tornado. I sighed and lifted my chin.

That’s when I saw them.

Hickeys. Too many to count.

They bloomed along my neck, dark and unmistakable, trailing down to my chest, marking skin that had never carried anything like this before. My stomach twisted. I turned slightly, inspecting myself from another angle, and froze.

Bite marks.

At the nape of my neck—faint but still visible, like pale scars that hadn’t decided yet whether they were going to heal or stay forever.

Those didn’t scare me as much as they probably should have.

Dave wouldn’t be back for another week. Even if the marks were still there by then, I could come up with something. A rash. A bug bite. An allergic reaction to some new detergent. Dave trusted me. He always had.

And if Lucas had truly marked me—fully, irrevocably—I would know by now. I’d feel him in my head. Hear him. Sense him breathing from miles away.

Still, when I reached up and touched the healing skin, electricity rippled through me. The same sharp, intimate spark I felt whenever Lucas got too close.

It made my breath hitch.

This mate bond was getting out of control. It was like my body had decided it knew better than my heart—or my morals.

As if summoned by the thought, warmth gathered between my thighs. I stiffened, eyes widening when I felt it—slick, undeniable.

“What the hell—”

Panic shot through me. Without thinking, I yanked the bathroom door open and stormed straight into the bedroom.

Lucas was still there.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, elbows braced on his knees, head bowed like he’d been carved from regret. When he looked up and saw me, something dark and hungry flickered in his eyes before he could stop it.

We locked gazes.

I saw his throat bob as he swallowed hard.

“Please,” he said, his voice rough, strained. “Stop tempting me—”

The sound of my hand hitting his cheek echoed through the room.

The slap stunned us both.

Lucas froze, staring at me like he couldn’t quite believe it happened. No anger crossed his face. No defensiveness. Just shock.

“Are you insane?!” I shouted, my voice breaking under the weight of everything I’d been holding in. “You came inside me, Luke!”

The words spilled out in a rush, fueled by fear more than rage.

I was fertile. I always had been. And he was my mate—an Alpha, no less.

The odds weren’t just high. They were terrifying.

Lucas sucked in a breath and looked away, jaw tightening.

“My wolf,” he said quietly, then hesitated before adding, “No animal understands birth control, Ester.”

There was no arrogance in his tone. No lecture. Just truth.

And somehow, that made my humiliation burn hotter.

I looked ridiculous—standing there, naked, furious, terrified—while he sat there with guilt written all over his face, eyes soft with affection he didn’t even try to hide.

It made me want to scream.

Instead, I turned on my heel and went back into the bathroom, slamming the door behind me.

I stepped under the shower and scrubbed my skin like I was trying to erase a crime scene. My arms. My legs. My neck. Everywhere his hands had been. The water turned scalding, then icy, but nothing dulled the sensation clinging to me.

I wasn’t crying anymore.

I was just angry. At myself. At fate. At whatever part of me had woken up and decided this was inevitable.

Dave is perfect.

He’s kind. Loyal. Patient. He never once made me feel small or unwanted.

So what the hell am I doing here?

By the time I stepped out of the bathroom, wrapped in a towel, the room felt strangely empty. A set of clothes had been laid out on the bed—soft fabric, tasteful colors, comfortable without being plain.

Lucien’s work, no doubt.

His taste was impeccable. I’d thank him later—if I ever stopped feeling like I’d swallowed a rock.

Lucas was gone.

I didn’t ask where he’d gone. I didn’t want to know. Right then, I didn’t trust myself not to fall apart if I saw him again.

I dressed slowly, savoring the way the fabric didn’t cling, didn’t remind me of what I’d done. After brushing my hair, I tied it up messily and took one last look in the mirror.

I looked… better. Not healed. Just less wrecked.

The door creaked open, and Lucien peeked in.

“Ready?” he asked gently. “I’ll drive you home.”

I nodded.

“I don’t think you need medication,” he muttered, mostly to himself, before turning away.

The drive was quiet. No awkward questions. No lectures. Just soft music humming through the car while I stared out the window and tried not to unravel.

When he parked across from the shopping district, he finally spoke.

“I’m not blaming you, Es.”

I turned to look at him. His expression was open. Concerned. Protective.

“You know I think of you like my own sister,” he continued. “Whatever you need—talking, company, distractions—you don’t have to go through it alone.”

My throat tightened. I nodded, unable to trust my voice.

We parted ways—him toward his café, me toward home.

Dave was away hiking with his friends, like he did every few months. Our son—Fabian, was with my parents, safe and happy. The store was closed for the holidays.

The timing felt cruel.

First day alone—and I’d already destroyed everything.

What kind of woman does that?

I drifted through the house, handling small tasks on autopilot. When the doorbell rang, it startled me enough that my heart jumped into my throat.

Lucien stood there with a bag in his hand.

“You must be hungry,” he said softly. “Bob made pasta. Come eat with me.”

He moved around the kitchen easily, familiar with the space, plating the food while I sat at the pantry table staring down at it. Normally, Bob’s cooking could fix almost anything.

Today, my appetite was gone.

“You still need to eat,” Lucien said gently. Then hesitated. “You might be pregnant.”

The words slammed into me.

“My brother’s an Alpha,” he continued quietly. “And you’re his fated mate.”

He looked down, swallowing hard.

“I didn’t feel the bond fully snap,” he admitted. “So I can’t blame either of you.”

That was all it took.

The sob slipped out before I could stop it. Lucien was at my side instantly, wrapping me in a steady, grounding hug.

“It must be so hard,” he murmured. “I’m sorry, Ester.”

“Dave,” I whispered. “And Fabian… what kind of mother does this make me?”

Eventually, he coaxed me into finishing the meal. Afterward, he suggested we go sit at the café for some air.

Before we left, I asked quietly, “Do the others know?”

He paused.

“About you and Lucas?” he clarified.

I nodded.

“Maybe,” he said. “Even if they don’t, they will soon. The pack’s been waiting for a Luna since Lucas first shifted.”

The words didn’t comfort me.

They only made the weight on my chest heavier.