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CHAPTER 13- DISCUSSING WITH THE HANDSOME STRANGER
I stuffed my emotions deep inside, masking them with a curt instruction as I left. “Figure what out? Just throw it all away,” I said, forcing myself to walk away quickly
My chest tightened as if it was physically trying to keep me from leaving, but I didn’t stop. I needed the distance.
The late afternoon sky greeted me with streaks of orange and purple, painting an otherwise indifferent city. I tilted my head upward, allowing the cool breeze to caress my face. It wasn’t enough to clear the weight in my chest.
If you don’t heal from what hurt you, you will bleed on those who didn’t cut you.
The quote suddenly came to my mind, each word gnawing at the raw edges of my thoughts. My mind couldn’t help but drift back to Darius.
His betrayal was a fresh wound, like a gash across my heart that hadn’t even begun to scab over.
“I need to heal before I meet Frederick,” I muttered under my breath, trying to will the pain into submission.
I climbed into my car, its leather seat cold against my skin. As I started the engine, the growl of the machine
seemed to echo the turmoil inside me
I caught sight of Anna, my best friend, watching me through the window. Her brows were knit with concern, and the sight of her worry sent another pang through my chest
I was suddenly reminded of how everyone wore concerned looks on their face and was always cautious about their words, like as if they were stepping on shards of glass
How broken must! look?
My wolf stirred, restless, her emotions mirroring my own. I blinked rapidly, but a tear slipped free and traced a cool line down my cheek. I turned my head away sharply, unwilling to let her see my pain.
I pressed the gas pedal, the car lurching forward. The drive was aimless, every turn more a distraction than a
destination. The city blurred around me, but it couldn’t drown out the ache clawing at my soul.
Eventually, I found myself pulling up in front of a bar. I didn’t remember deciding to stop here, but it seemed as good a place as any to lose myself for a while. The parking lot was mostly empty, though it would probably be filled soon, as it was getting close to evening and by nighttime, it will be bustling with noise.
I entered inside, going straight to the counter.
The bartender–a broad–shouldered man with a kind but tired smile–approached. “What can I get you?”
“A strong drink,” I said, my voice quieter than I’d intended.
He nodded knowingly and went to work.
Before the drink arrived, my phone buzzed. I glanced at the screen: a message from a high school friend inviting me to a reunion. It was signed with cheery emojis that felt out of place in my current mood.
I snorted softly and powered off my phone, sliding it into my pocket just as the bartender placed a glass in front
of me.
The first sip was fire, burning its way down my throat. My wolf stirred again, unsettled. This won’t fix anything. she whispered.
ALTERBEJCHON THE OMEGA RISES.
I
But I didn’t stop. Glass after glass disappeared, each gulp a futile attempt to numb the hollowness inside me.
The sound of the bar door opening pulled me from my thoughts. The faint click of boots on the floor reached my ears, accompanied by the musky scent of another wolf. I stiffened instinctively, my senses sharpening.
A man settled into the seat beside me. His presence felt… familiar. I couldn’t help but look up.
“You shouldn’t drink alone,” he said casually, his voice low and smooth.
I turned to face him, meeting sharp green eyes framed by tousled black hair. His expression was calm, but his gaze held an intensity that made my wolf stir again
“What do you care?” I snapped, my words slurring slightly.
He didn’t flinch at my tone. Instead, he leaned back, watching me with an unreadable expression. “You’re radiating pain,” he said simply. “It’s hard not to care when it’s practically suffocating the room.”
I froze, his words hitting too close to the truth. My wolf growled softly, her hackles rising.
“And who are you to lecture me?” I shot back, my tone defensive.
He smiled faintly, the expression more empathetic than mocking. “A stranger,” he admitted. “But even strangers can recognize a soul in pain.”
For a moment, I didn’t know how to respond. His words left me feeling exposed, as if he’d stripped away the
carefully constructed walls I’d put up
“You don’t know me,” I said finally, my voice quieter now
“No,” he agreed, “But I know that healing doesn’t happen at the bottom of a glass.”
