His Rejected Mate, His Greatest Regret (A.S)

CHAPTER 4: THE KIND MASK

The forest should have felt like freedom. Instead, it felt like silence waiting for her to break. Rio sat at the base of a tall tree, her back pressed against the rough bark as she focused on something simple—breathing in, breathing out, steady and controlled. The air here was cooler than the pack grounds, cleaner, untouched by noise and judgment. But the quiet did not soothe her. It made everything inside her louder.

The pain in her chest had changed again. It was no longer sharp enough to steal her breath, but it had not disappeared. It lingered beneath the surface, dull and constant, like a wound that refused to close. Each heartbeat reminded her of it. Each inhale carried its weight. Something had broken. And whatever it was… it was not fixing itself.

"You're still feeling it." William's voice came from a few steps away, calm and measured. Rio did not look at him immediately. She kept her gaze on the ground, her fingers lightly gripping the edge of her sleeve. "It's quieter," she said after a moment. "But it's still there." William nodded slowly, as if her answer confirmed something he already expected. "That's normal," he replied. "The bond doesn't disappear completely. Not right away."

Rio frowned slightly. "It doesn't feel normal," she said. "It wouldn't," William answered. There was no hesitation in his tone. No uncertainty. He spoke with quiet certainty, like someone explaining something simple rather than something painful. Rio finally lifted her gaze toward him. "You speak like you've experienced this before."

A pause followed. Brief. Controlled. Then William smiled. It was not warm. Not cold either. Just enough to pass as understanding. "I've seen what bonds can do to people," he said. "Both when they form… and when they break." The answer sounded acceptable. But it did not feel complete. Rio studied him for a moment longer than necessary, her instincts unsettled in a way she could not fully explain. There was something about him that did not match his words. Not enough to accuse. Not enough to trust. Just enough to notice.

William stepped closer, careful with the distance. Not invading. Not withdrawing. "You shouldn't stay near the pack right now," he continued. "You're vulnerable." Rio's expression remained neutral. "I've always been vulnerable," she said. William's gaze sharpened slightly, though his voice remained soft. "There's a difference," he replied. "Before, they ignored you. Now, they're watching you."

Rio looked away. That was true. She had felt it. The shift in their attention. Before, she had been nothing. Now, she was something to observe. Something to laugh at. Something to remember. "They won't stop," William added quietly. Rio did not respond. Because she knew. Blackridge Pack did not forget moments like that. They fed on them.

A faint breeze moved through the trees, rustling the leaves above them. The sound filled the silence briefly, then faded again. Rio leaned her head back slightly against the tree, closing her eyes for a moment. Everything felt heavier now. Not just her body. Her thoughts. Her awareness. Her existence. "I can help you," William said. Rio opened her eyes again. "Why?" she asked. The question came out softer than she intended, but it carried more weight than anything she had said so far.

William did not answer immediately. He looked away for a brief second, as if considering his response carefully. When he spoke again, his voice was lower, more deliberate. "Because I know what it feels like to be overlooked," he said. "To exist in a place where no one sees your value." The words were right. Too right. They fit too easily into her reality. And that made them dangerous.

Rio watched him closely now. "You don't seem overlooked," she said. William gave a faint exhale, almost like a quiet laugh. "Appearances don't always reflect truth," he replied. That answer lingered longer than expected. It should have ended the conversation. But it didn't. Instead, it created space for more questions. More doubt. More attention.

William stepped slightly closer again, his posture relaxed but intentional. "If you stay here, they will keep breaking you," he said. "Not all at once. Not directly. But slowly. Piece by piece." Rio's fingers tightened slightly against her sleeve. "They already have," she said. William shook his head. "No," he replied. "They've only started." The certainty in his voice made something inside her chest tighten again, though this time it was not the bond. It was something else. Something quieter. Unease.

"And what exactly are you offering?" Rio asked. William met her gaze fully now. "A way out," he said. The answer came without hesitation. Clean. Simple. Too simple. Rio held his gaze for a moment, searching for something beneath his words. Something real. Something unguarded. She did not find it. "Nothing comes without a cost here," she said. William's expression did not change. "You're right," he replied. "But staying has a cost too."

That was true. Uncomfortably true. Rio looked away again, her thoughts shifting faster than she could organize them. The pack, the rejection, the pain, the silence—it all pressed against her at once, leaving little space for clear judgment. "You don't have to decide now," William added. His tone softened slightly, easing the pressure instead of increasing it. "That's not what this is about," he continued. "It's about giving you a choice you didn't have before."

Choice. The word felt unfamiliar. Rio had lived most of her life reacting, adjusting, surviving within limits set by others. Choice had never been something freely given to her. Now, hearing it felt… wrong. Or maybe just new. She shifted slightly, her back still against the tree. "And if I refuse?" she asked. William shrugged lightly. "Then you stay," he said. "And nothing changes." The answer was simple. Direct. Unemotional. That made it more convincing than anything else he had said.

Silence settled between them again. This time, it felt heavier. Not empty. Waiting. Rio looked around the clearing, taking in the quiet isolation of the place. No voices. No laughter. No eyes watching her every movement. It should have felt safe. But it didn't. Because she was not alone. William was still there. Watching. Waiting. Not pushing. Not leaving. Carefully present. And that was what made it unsettling.

"I don't trust easily," Rio said finally. William nodded once. "You shouldn't," he replied. No argument. No reassurance. Just agreement. That made it harder to dismiss him. "But you can trust what you feel," he added. Rio frowned slightly. "That doesn't help," she said. "It does," William replied. "You just don't like what it's telling you." That made her pause. Because he was right. Her instincts were not calm. They were not settled. They were uncertain. And she did not like that.

Slowly, Rio pushed herself to her feet again. Her body still felt weak, but stronger than before. The pain in her chest had reduced further, though it had not disappeared. It lingered, quiet but present. A reminder. Always a reminder. William stepped back slightly, giving her space without stepping away completely. "This way," he said. Rio hesitated for a second. Then followed.

They moved deeper into the forest. The path narrowed, the trees growing thicker around them. Light filtered through the branches in uneven patterns, shifting as they walked. The deeper they went, the more distant the pack felt. Too distant. Rio watched William carefully now. His steps were confident. Certain. He did not hesitate. Did not question direction. He knew exactly where he was going. That realization settled heavily in her mind.

"How do you know this place so well?" she asked. William did not turn back. "I've been here before," he said. The answer was immediate. Prepared. Rio's eyes narrowed slightly. But she said nothing. They reached another clearing, smaller than the last. More hidden. Surrounded by dense trees that blocked most of the outside view. William stopped. "Rest here," he said. Rio looked around. The place was quiet. Too quiet.

"No one comes this far," he added. That was not comforting. Rio sat down slowly on a fallen log, her body welcoming the rest despite her thoughts. William remained standing again, just as before. Watching. Always watching. "You don't have to stay who they made you," he said after a moment. Rio looked up at him. "And who exactly am I, then?" she asked. William held her gaze. "That's something you'll have to decide," he replied.

The answer sounded freeing. But it felt like a beginning. Not an end. Rio lowered her gaze again, her thoughts quieter now but heavier. "I don't know what I am anymore," she admitted. William's voice softened. "Then let me help you figure it out." The words settled between them. Carefully placed. Deliberate. And for the first time since the rejection… Rio did not immediately reject the idea.

Far away, beyond the forest, inside the walls of Blackridge Pack—Alpha Drake stopped walking. Again. The pressure in his chest returned. Stronger. Sharper. Different. His expression darkened slightly as his hand moved unconsciously toward his chest. The sensation was unfamiliar, unwelcome, and impossible to ignore. He had already rejected the bond. He had ended it. So why—why did it still feel like something was there? Something alive. Something responding. His jaw tightened. And for the first time… doubt followed.