Chapter 32
Kali
May there. Unmoving.
My body is still curled up on the bed, tangled in soft sheets. My eyes are wide open, staring at the wooden ceiling above–as if it holds the answers I’ve been searching for since the moment I met Jack.
His voice keeps echoing. His words playing in a loop like a broken record, stabbing and soothing me all at once.
“If nothing’s changed… if you still don’t want me. Then I’ll accept your rejection.”
Why the hell does that hurt?
He said it so calmly. So… empty. Like he was already letting go. And that terrifies me more than I want to admit.
I suck in a shaky breath, my chest tightening. I should be relieved. That’s what I wanted, right? Freedom. Space. A clean break from this confusing, dangerous bond.
But now that I’m actually lying here–alone–something about it just feels wrong.
God, I hate that he has been kind of good to me. He’s supposed to be an Alpha. Ruthless. Arrogant. Possessive. A total asshole like the rest of them. The kind of Alpha who thinks the world bows at his feet just because he can growl and swing his dick around like a trophy. Travis was like that. Hell, worse. He tried to tame me that same night like I was just some piece of meat to claim and break.
But Jack? He hasn’t even tried to tame me like he should. Except, of course, that one time—when he threw me into a cage. But even that doesn’t count
since I wasn’t hurt.
And now he’s talking about accepting my rejection like it doesn’t kill him inside. Like he’s already preparing to live without me.
Isn’t he supposed to fight for me?
My fingers curl into the bedsheet as I try to push the ache from my chest. If only he had acted like a bastard, I wouldn’t be here second–guessing every damn thing. I wouldn’t care if he accepted the rejection. I’d hate him easily.
But instead… I don’t because he touched me like I was something precious.
His hands… they didn’t just touch my skin. They went deeper–into parts of me no one has ever dared to reach.
And now I can’t get him out of my head.
“Ugh,” I mutter, rolling onto my side and burying my face into the pillow.
It’s just the bond, I tell myself. That’s all this is–a stupid cosmic connection meant to mess with our heads.
But deep down, I know that’s not the full truth.
Even without the bond… Jack is my type. My kind of man. Strong. Calm. A little rough around the edges, but not cruel. That jaw. Those eyes. The way he says my name, like it’s both a prayer and a curse. Everything about him is-
Confusing. Frustrating.
And infuriatingly tempting.
I swallow hard and press my thighs together.
Dammit.
1/3
siter 32
“Okay” (whisper to myself dust got it over with Steep with time, get tire out of your system, and mayvekist maybe if get my full memory bar d
That’s the excuse. That’s the lion I’m clinging to.
wat because i like him. Not because I crave the way he touches me.
No. This is practical
Liar
My woll grow low inside me, the sound sharp and angry.
“What now?” I mutter aloud.
“Why are we pretending?” she snaps. “Why can’t we just admit we want him? He’s been nothing but good to us. He’s trying. And it’ll be a damn shame to lose him just because you’re too scared to trust.”
1 sit up slowly, rubbing my temple.
“You think I don’t know that?” I whisper bitterly, my throat dry. “But what if he’s pretending? What if this calm, steady version of him is just a trick? What if, the second I let my guard down and accept him, he shows his true colours and suddenly he becomes everything I feared?“..
My voice lowers to a whisper.
“He’s still a wolf, not a sheep. And I’ve heard the saying–‘a wolf in sheep’s clothing“.
Silence.
My wolf doesn’t respond this time. And that’s worse.
Because it means she agrees.
My stomach growls, loud and insistent, making me flinch.
“For moon’s sake,” I groan, dragging myself off the bed. “Can I not have one existential crisis without starving to death?”
I sigh and rise to my feet, my legs weak beneath me. I shuffle over to the wardrobe and pull it open, only to find it completely empty—no dresses, no makeup, no trace of a woman’s presence.
Curious, I open another. This one is full. But not with anything of mine.
Jack’s clothes. Neatly folded shirts, jackets, and worn–in jeans line the shelves, all smelling faintly of him. I can’t help the smile that tugs at my lips. I grab one of his shirts–soft, oversized, and soaked in his scent—and pull it on. It hangs loosely on me, warm and comforting, like a quiet embrace.
1 head toward the kitchen, still barefoot. The house is silent. Too silent. Like it’s holding its breath, waiting–just like me.
I pad down the hall and turn a corner until I find the kitchen.
I push open the door. My heart sinks.
The shelves are empty. The fridge? Empty. No ingredients, no bread, no fruit, not even water bottles or damn crumbs.
It’s clean–too clean. Like no one has ever lived here.
Like he just moved in… for me..
The thought slips into my mind, and for a second, I smile again as I imagine Jack nervously setting up this place. No signs of another woman. No old photos. No leftover perfume or hair ties forgotten in the bathroom. No scent of any other woman. Could it be… I’m the first one he’s ever brought here?
2/3
By the Boling dement teat
67%
Reality stars in the face the rould we pally deaned the place to to make it look like his feat musta vas never fare rasing the past, erasing her
So he really feh me here. tumble again, tugging open yet another empty cupboard like maybe, just maybe, a damn apple might magically appear and save me from my growing stomach with no food first even a damn apple
I drag & hand down my face, leaning heavily against the cold counter. My stomach growls louder this time, like it’s calling me stupid for trusting a man like Jack to care whether or not i starve to death 1 glare down at it. “You’re not helping”
A tited, bitter laugh escapes me but it dies just as fast.
The one man who kisses like sin, touches like he means it…” I shake my head, exhaling through my nose. “And forgets to leave food. For two damn
Everything about him is complicated–my head, my heart, my damn body. I don’t even know what I want anymore.
But the most frustrating part? I can’t stop thinking about him. I feel so ridiculous hoping he doesn’t accept my rejection.
I press my fingers to my temples. “Get a grip, Kali.”
But if this hunger doesn’t kill me first… the confusion just might.
3/3
