Charles’s POV
In the dining room, the last bit of warmth vanishes entirely as I watch her determined silhouette vanish. The echo of her stinging words, "I don't want to be controlled!" leaves a hollow ache in my chest.
The accusations pierce me. My Alpha instinct roars, my offended dignity burns. But deeper still, there’s a profound sadness and a crippling sense of helplessness.
She doesn't understand. She doesn't see the tempest raging inside me, the constant battle between my heart and nature.
Retreating to my cold study, I let the heavy oak door envelop me in solitude. The high-backed chair offers little comfort as I sink into it. Pressing my temples, I try to quench the incessant throb. Mist’s accusatory eyes linger in my mind, and that damn pendant seems to mock me.
"See?" The wh
