Not Alone
1281 Words
The rain continued its steady rhythm, a constant drumbeat against the roof as the storm outside raged on.
Curled up on my bed, I couldn’t stop the replay of everything that had just happened. The look in his eyes—or rather, the lack of one—haunted me. His words of despair haven't left me either.
"I didn't want it..... It would have been better if I had."
He wished death upon himself. Probably still did.
Then his silence which Even in it, he screamed of pain and chaos, a storm far greater than the one battering the world outside.
His refusal to acknowledge me, to let me in, stung far deeper than I wanted to admit.
Pressing my lips together, I turned onto my other side, staring at the faint shadows cast on my work of arts by the moonlight peeking through the storm clouds.
Ashton’s earlier words replayed in my mind:
"Just… don’t lose yourself in this. Promise me that."
How could I make a promise like that when I was already unraveling? Every interaction with my so-called mate stripped away another piece of my resolve and left me all kinds of confused and unknowing.
Why do I even care so much?
My hands tightened around the edge of the blanket as if I could wring answers from the fabric. This wasn’t supposed to matter to me.
Fate or no fate, mate bond or not, I wasn’t supposed to feel this... tethered to him.
The plan was to always walk away from it not get this flitting emotions or get tethered to him.
And yet, when he flinched at my touch, something inside me had shattered.
Maybe it was guilt. I had brought him back from the brink, forcing him to survive when he clearly hadn’t wanted to.
Maybe part of him hated me for it, and maybe he was right to.
My heart twisted at the thought. I hadn’t asked for this bond. I hadn’t asked for him to walk into my life, broken and bleeding, on the verge of death but now that he had, I couldn’t turn away. Not as easily as I’d convinced myself I could before.
A loud knock at the door startled me out of my spiraling thoughts. I sat up quickly, my heart thundering in my chest. I didn’t need to guess who it was—I could already smell him. Which meant he wanted me to know it was him.
“Blair, it’s me.”
The knock on the door echoed louder in my head as I slid out of bed, my thoughts still a jumble.
Opening the door, I found my father standing there, his presence as commanding as ever, but with a hint of softness in his eyes.
A softness that had always been my comfort cue, but not now when I was hiding things from him.
“You’ve been gone for a few days,” he said, stepping into the room without waiting for permission, the same way he always did.
I didn't mind I got used to it. And I loved that our relationship was like this less strenuous than other Alpha's and their daughters that I'd known.
I closed the door behind him, steeling myself.
“I needed time,” I said, keeping my tone neutral so as not to give away my tension.
Plus I didn't know what exactly Ashton told our dad about my absence from the castle so I refrained from further explanation. I probably should have asked him before.
My father’s eyes narrowed, his sharp gaze taking me in, assessing. He probably could note my tension despite my trying to play it off.
He was the king for a reason and the man had raised me.
“Time for what, Blair? To wrestle with something you should have brought to me weeks ago?” He let's out and a breath I didn't know I was holding leaves my lungs.
He doesn't know yet about the foreign man in his territory, or he probably does and he's just playing mind games with me.
But his words hinted to my issue prior to my encounter with the stranger, now looking back that was nothing as compared to what I have going on now.
“This is my problem to handle,” she replied firmly. “I’m not ready to involve you.” I let out my excuse the same excuse I'd sighted to Ashton a week ago.
My father folds his arms, his expression turning stern. Reminding me of the serious man you never wanted to cross.
“You think I don’t know what’s happening? That I haven’t noticed the distance between us? You’ve been avoiding me, avoiding the pack.”
At his observation my jaw clenched. Dad didn't know that time was approaching hence my odd behaviours. He may have forgotten but I haven't. or he probably does remember but plays it off thinking I don't remember.
“It’s complicated,” I admit, my voice quieter now.
“It’s always complicated, Blair. But you’re not a pup anymore. You can’t keep running from challenges just because they’re hard.” Dad let's out with a tad bit of frustration laced in his words.
And though his words stung, I had to admit they were right on point. I was running away or trying to. But my pride couldn't let me admit to my father that his ascension was true.
“I’m not running,” I snapped, my voice harder now. “I’m trying to figure out what’s best for everyone. For him. For me. For the pack.”
At my words Dad's expression softened a fraction, his arms dropping to his sides. And I bit my tongue hoping to God he doesn't take onto my little slip up.
“And you think shutting me out is the way to do that?”
I look away, my resolve wavering. The weight of his disappointment hung heavy in the air.
“In time father for now let me.” I whispered hoping he could grant me this request and not push farther. if he did I'd probably snap and let him in on everything.
Keeping things from him isn't a norm I'm used to. My father despite being the fierce king he'd always been a father to us and a friend.
There was a long pause before he let out a sigh, his hand coming up to rub at his temples.
“I’m here, Blair. When you’re ready to talk, I’m here. But don’t take too long. Whatever this is. Know that you’re not alone in this, no matter how much you think you need to be.”
The words carried the same tone he’d used so many times before: during my first shift, during my first hunt, whenever I stumbled but refused to ask for help.
It was his way of reminding me that I wasn’t just his daughter—I was a future leader, someone with responsibilities to others beyond herself.
He didn’t linger after that, turning and leaving the room quietly, the door clicking softly shut behind him.
After his exit I sank back onto the bed, his words replaying in my head.
I hated that he was right. This wasn’t something I could handle alone nor did I want to.
But bringing him into it—letting him see how far I’d let myself unravel—felt like surrendering the last semblance of control I had left.
My gaze drifted to the window, the storm outside finally starting to calm.
We’ll figure this out, I whispered to myself, though I wasn’t sure who I was trying to convince.
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- Writer
