I reached the clearing before he did. The air was cool, stirred by the evening breeze that carried the faint scent of pine and something sweeter—familiar. A scent that had haunted my thoughts for weeks now. Atlas.
My heart thudded heavily in my chest as I paced the space, trying to steady myself, trying to find the right words. I'd come here with clear intention: to confess to him, to warn him. To tell him the truth about Dominic—about the things he was planning, the darkness I'd witnessed. About the danger Atlas was in.
But when I heard his footsteps, light and quick, approaching from the ridge, everything inside me knotted with anticipation and fear.
He stepped into the light between the trees, face glowing with excitement, his silver-blonde hair catching the fading sunlight. It was longer now than when he'd left, curling slightly at the ends. His smile bloomed the moment he spotted me, genuine and unguarded.
"Evan!" he called, half-running toward me, his voice bright with joy. "You're not going to believe what happened!"
I blinked, caught off guard by his energy, his pure joy radiating off him in waves. The words I'd come to say froze in my throat, lodged there like stones.
He stopped in front of me, practically vibrating with enthusiasm, his blue eyes sparkling, and without hesitation launched into it.
"I have a power," he said breathlessly, his eyes shining with wonder. "Like an actual gift—shadow manipulation. I only just discovered it, and I've been training with Emmett and Russell. It's wild, Evan. Sometimes I mess it up, and once I accidentally trapped them in the shadows until morning—don't ask—but I'm getting better every day."
I stood still, watching him speak, drinking in every detail. The way he gestured with his hands, animated and bright. The way his voice caught with laughter when he told me how Russell panicked and nearly fell into a bush trying to escape the shadows, flailing like he'd been attacked by invisible hands.
The way he paused just long enough to blush when he mentioned how Noelle had cheered him on like a proud older sister, how she'd been helping him train and refine his control.
He was different. Stronger and lighter. Alive in a way I'd never seen him before. And happy. So genuinely happy.
So I didn't say it. Not yet. I couldn't ruin the joy on his face by darkening it with Dominic's name, with warnings of danger and threats. So I listened.
I let him speak, and each word wrapped around me like a balm I didn't know I needed, soothing wounds I hadn't acknowledged. I hadn't seen him like this in years—no, maybe ever.
Even back in our home pack, there had always been weight on his shoulders. Always shadows behind his eyes. Always fear lurking in the way he carried himself, like he was waiting for the next blow to fall.
But here… he was free. And I felt something shift deep in my chest as I watched him, as I saw what he'd become. Something old and aching but now finally clear, crystallizing into certainty.
I loved him. I still did. Perhaps I always had. And I think—somewhere in the quiet spaces of his heart—maybe he still carried something for me too.
We sat beneath one of the larger trees, the hush of the forest settling around us like a shared secret, like the world had narrowed down to just the two of us. He leaned back on his hands, looking up through the branches at the faint shimmer of stars beginning to emerge in the darkening sky.
"You ever think about the past?" he asked softly, his voice dropping to something more contemplative. "The things that led us here?"
I hesitated, my throat tight. Then nodded. "All the time." He glanced at me, his smile fading into something more serious, more vulnerable. I knew this was the moment. I couldn't hide behind silence any longer. If I didn't speak now, I might never get another chance.
"There's something I never told you," I began, voice low and rough. "About why I chose Dominic. Why I… didn't choose you." He tensed slightly but didn't speak. Just waited, his eyes searching my face.
I forced myself to look at him, to meet those blue eyes that had always seen too much. "It wasn't entirely me. Not really. My wolf—Rau—he's… he's not like me."
He frowned, confused. "Not like you how?"
"He's darker," I said, the words scraping out of me like rust, like confession. "Rau craves power. Control. Violence. Ever since he emerged, it's been like living with a starving predator inside my own head—one that doesn't share my values, or my heart. One that wants things I don't want."
He watched me carefully, his expression unreadable, guarded. "He doesn't just usually take over when I shift," I continued, needing him to understand. "Sometimes, he tries to override me even in this form. When I'm weak, tired, vulnerable. And the day I claimed Dominic… that wasn't entirely my decision. It was his."
Atlas's eyes widened, his breath catching audibly. "He saw Dominic as the future Alpha mate. The strategic choice. The one who would make us powerful, who would secure our position. And I—I was too weak to fight him. Too weak to stand up for what I really wanted."
I let the truth hang between us, raw and jagged, cutting through the evening air. "I thought I could live with it," I whispered, the admission painful. "I thought I could make it work, convince myself that Rau was right, that power and position mattered more than…"
I trailed off, swallowing hard. "But I couldn't. Because when I remembered what it felt like to be around you… when I imagined what it should feel like to love someone, to be chosen… it was never him."
I paused, voice faltering, breaking on the words. "It was always you, Atlas." He didn't respond. His lips parted, eyes wide with shock, his cheeks flooding with color. His hands clenched in the grass beside him, knuckles white.
For a moment, I thought he might say something. But I couldn't wait. Couldn't hold back any longer.
I leaned toward him slowly, carefully—so close I could see the way his breath hitched, could count the rapid flutter of his pulse at his throat. So close I could see the tremble in his fingers as he clutched the grass beside him, like he was anchoring himself.
My hand reached out, barely brushing his. The contact sent electricity through me. I wanted to kiss him. Needed to. Needed to show him what words couldn't convey. But then, voices emerged to the clearing.
Low and distant but growing louder, shattering the fragile moment. The sound of boots crunching on fallen leaves and the familiar bark of patrolling guards from his pack. He jumped up instinctively, backing away, his expression shifting to alarm.
"We can't be seen," he whispered urgently, his eyes scanning the treeline, looking for the source of the voices.
I nodded, standing too, frustration and disappointment warring inside me. "I know."
For a second, we just looked at each other—words unfinished, hearts suspended in the space between what was said and what couldn't be. And then he stepped back, slipping into the shadows without another word, his gift allowing him to disappear as if he'd never been there at all. Gone.
I exhaled sharply, the weight of everything unsaid pressing against my chest like a physical force. I should've told him about Dominic. I should've warned him about the danger. I should've kissed him when I had the chance. But now… I didn't know if I'd ever get another.