The Banned Daughter

The Things I Don’t Know

“Whose fault is that?”

Jace’s gaze drops.

“Mine.”

The simple admission steals some of the heat from my anger. I hate that it does.

He takes one step closer, then stops, leaving enough space between us that I can breathe. Always so careful now. As if he knows exactly how badly he hurt me and is afraid one wrong movement will shatter whatever fragile thing remains between us.

“You have every right to hate me,” he says. “I should have found a way back to you. I should have fought harder. I should have—”

“Don’t.” My voice shakes. “Please don’t stand there and tell me what you should have done. I waited for you, Jace.”

His eyes close.

“I know.”

“For months.” The words rush out before I can stop them. “Every time the phone rang, I thought it was you. Every time I heard a car come down the road, I thought maybe you’d come back. Then one day I realized you weren’t going to.”

His face crumples for half a second.

It is gone so fast I might have imagined it.

But I didn’t.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers.

The words are too late.

Seven years too late.

“My dad told you not to call?” I ask, because that is easier than admitting how much his apology still hurts.

Jace runs a hand through his hair. For one second, he looks exactly like the boy I remember—awkward, nervous, terrified of saying the wrong thing.

“After we left, I called your house. Your dad answered.” His eyes meet mine. “He told me you needed an Alpha. Said I was a kid with a crush, and if I actually loved you, I would let you have the future you were supposed to have.”

My pulse pounds in my ears.

My father would never—

Except he might have.

He loved me. He wanted the best for me. Growing up, everyone had always made it clear that my future came with expectations. I was an Alpha’s daughter. One day, I would lead a pack. One day, I would need an Alpha beside me.

But he would not have taken Jace from me.

Would he?

“You believed him?” I whisper.

Jace’s mouth twists. “Not at first.”

The answer catches me off guard.

“I saved up for months and chanced coming back.” His voice roughens. “I thought I could find you, talk to you, figure it out. After all, it was my dad your dad was pissed at, not me. But Grady told me you had moved on.”

My breath catches.

“Then I heard you laughing in the woods with someone else.” His gaze flicks toward the hall where Rowan disappeared. “You sounded happy. I thought maybe your dad was right.”

A strange ache opens beneath my ribs.

I remember that day. Rowan had spent hours trying to make me smile after I cried over Jace again. I remember laughing because he had refused to leave until I did.

I remember thinking I was finally starting to move forward.

“You should have come to me,” I say.

“I know.”

“You should have fought for me.”

“I know.”

My eyes burn.

“You should have said goodbye.”

This time, Jace does not answer. He just looks at me. And the silence between us says he has been saying goodbye to me every day since.

I should tell him to leave. I should walk upstairs, find Rowan, and let myself be held by the man who stayed.

Instead, I look at Jace’s mouth. Then I hate myself for it.

He notices.

Of course he notices.

His breath catches, and the air between us changes.

“Tell me to go,” he says.

I should. I know I should. But all I can think about is being sixteen and standing beneath the old oak tree behind my house while he promised me forever.

I close the distance before I can change my mind. I tell myself this is my own good-bye. My chance to close the door once and for all. On my own terms.

I don’t even believe myself. Still, my fist knots in the front of his shirt. Then I kiss him.

For one suspended second, he doesn't move.

Then his hands come up, stopping just short of touching me, as though he is afraid I will disappear if he does.

The kiss is nothing like I remember.

It is worse.

Better.

It tastes like every unanswered question I have carried for seven years. Like anger and grief and all the things I never let myself want after he left.

Jace makes a broken sound against my mouth.

Then he pulls away.

His forehead rests against mine, his breathing uneven.

“Fi—Libbie,” he whispers. “You’re engaged to my Alpha.”

I blink slowly and lick my lips. “I know.”

“I won’t be the reason you lose him.”

The words hit harder than they should.

Before I can answer, he steps back. Then he turns and walks out of the kitchen.

I stay where I am, one hand still curled into a fist against my chest.

My lips burn. My heart pounds. And the only thought I can manage is--

Oh, s**t.