The Alpha I was Forced to Betray

Chapter 3 - Isla

The word settled into me like something heavy and unmovable.

Mate.

It felt wrong.

My body reacted before my mind could catch up, tension coiling tight in my chest as my wolf stirred beneath my skin, restless and aware in a way I refused to be. It recognized something I didn’t want to name, something I wasn’t ready to face.

Across the cemetery, Nico didn’t move.

He just watched me.

Calm. Controlled. Intent.

Like he was deciding something.

And somehow, that was worse than anger.

I forced myself to look away first, dragging my attention back to where it should have been.

Focus.

The funeral.

This isn’t about him.

I moved forward, slipping back into place, accepting quiet condolences as they came. I nodded when expected, murmured thank you when I needed to, my voice steady even when everything inside me wasn’t. It felt automatic, like I was moving through something I had already lived before.

Everything felt distant.

Muted.

Like I was standing just outside of my own body, watching it happen instead of living it.

Because underneath it all—

I could feel him.

The bond hadn’t faded.

If anything, it had settled deeper, anchoring itself into something I couldn’t ignore no matter how hard I tried. Every instinct I had was aware of him—where he stood, how far away he was, the fact that he hadn’t left.

The fact that he was still there.

It was unbearable.

When the service ended, the stillness broke. People began to shift, voices rising slightly as conversations resumed, movement returning in slow waves as grief gave way to routine.

This was my chance.

Before he could—

I turned.

And I walked away.

Not rushed. Not obvious. Just enough to blend into the movement, to disappear without drawing attention. But the second I was out of sight, my control slipped. My steps quickened, my breathing turning uneven as the weight of everything pressed in harder.

I needed distance.

I couldn’t stay here.

Not with this.

Not with him.

“Isla.”

My name stopped me cold.

Low.

Controlled.

Unmistakable.

It sent something sharp down my spine, my body locking in place before I could even think about ignoring it.

Slowly, I turned.

And there he was.

Closer now.

Too close.

Every detail hit harder at this distance—the sharp lines of his face, the strength in his body, the quiet, contained power in the way he carried himself. He didn’t have to move to take up space. He didn’t have to speak to be felt.

He just was.

And it was overwhelming.

His eyes locked onto mine.

Cold.

Focused.

Unforgiving.

He stopped a few feet away, close enough that I could feel the pull of the bond more clearly now, but not close enough to touch. Not closing the distance completely.

Just standing there.

Waiting.

Like he knew I wouldn’t leave.

Like he knew I couldn’t.

My throat felt dry, the weight of everything unsaid pressing up against my chest.

“…Nico.”

His name felt unfamiliar on my tongue, like it belonged to someone I used to know—someone tied to memories I didn’t deserve to hold onto anymore.

Not the man standing in front of me now.

Silence stretched between us, heavy and charged, thick with everything we weren’t saying. The bond tightened, threading through the space between us, weaving itself into everything already broken, already ruined.

And in that moment, I understood something I hadn’t wanted to admit.

Leaving wasn’t going to be simple.

Because no matter how far I ran this time—

I wasn’t the only one who had a say in it anymore.