“I want nothing more right now than to unify our bond and mark you. Believe me when I tell you, that if I was anyone else’s son… you would already be bearing my mark and know what it is to have me inside of you. The union would be complete. I love you, Lorey, in ways I didn’t know I could love anyone. I thought I knew what it was to commit my soul to my mate, but I was wrong. I need you to know this isn’t what I want. … That I’m sorry… but I have no other choice, and I have to reject……..” Colton falters, his raw croaking tone breaking, then he swallows hard, bringing back all the anguish from before and a solitary tear rolls down his cheek and drips onto mine to continue its painful journey. Wounding me with its searing burn. His pain evident and for a second his anguish and confusions flows through my soul too, telling me he can’t do it alone. My heart is already turning to ash as he destroys me with his words, but we have to be stronger.
I know what he has to say, that it has to be done. Know why. It’s how it is, we can’t change it, or fight it, or do this any other way, and hearing it may kill me, but I have to let him do it. There’s no alternative and as much as I want to scream and stop this, I understand. I can’t hate him for it.
I’m no Luna. I’m a Whyte wolf from the family Dennison. A shamed bloodline who all fell in battle, and we don’t have a right to stand up by an alpha’s side to tar his name. I don’t have it in me to lead, and I’ll be nothing but a weight of shame hanging around his neck, his weakness in battle, and the demise of his bloodline. I can’t be the reason he loses the respect of the packs and upturn his entire life.
I say nothing, just stay deathly still, silent tears escaping from my closed eyes as they begin to pour down my face. Warm, bitter, stinging, rivulets of despair. He can feel me and hear my thoughts, so he knows my acceptance is in my silence. My pain is his, my distraught agony in knowing this is over before it began is all around, and in between us. He knows what to do. His breathing gets heavier, labored, as he struggles to compose himself and push the last of the words out in a voice I barely recognize; low and strained. Ravaged and hoarse. He clears his throat and swallows loudly again as though to pull himself together.
“I….. Colton Juan Santo, son of the alpha of the reigning Santo pack, and future alpha of Mount. Radstone……… I’m sorry, baby, don’t hate me for this …….. reject you as my chosen mate and deny the bond of imprinting. I set you free……… to….” He swallows hard again, voice wavering, choking on his own tears, pulling me into his embrace, crushing me with strong arms to find the will to carry on. Wrapping me up in his body as though he wants to shield me from what he is doing and memorize the feel of me for an eternity. I can feel everything, know his emotions as if they are my own, and it kills me. His regret, his anguish, his overwhelm at the pain and being the one who delivers the wounding blow to my heart.
“…. find a chosen mate as you see fit, as will I, with no interference, … even if it causes pain. … My word cannot and will not be broken, and I will not intervene should you find your path… This cannot be undone… I set you free, for now and all eternity. May the fates be kind and give you a pass to a better future.” His words are barely audible, his voice so much lower, breathless, as he binds me against him almost cruelly, with the force of his passion. The sound of blood rushing through my ears blots the world out as I spiral into a complete emotional breakdown, tearing my mind to shreds.
Finish it!
I blurt trough the head link, knowing he has to. I can’t stand this any longer, I need the words to stop, for it to be over, and for this to be done. His touch is my torture and his voice my final blow.
Colton shudders in my arms, his face wet too and he buries a hand in the back of my hair as he cradles me against him tightly. Almost like he can stop it hurting me if he crushes me to him and melts our bodies to one form.
“After today, the link will be closed, our bond ignored, and we should never cross paths again. That is my command …. It’s done. We’re done…. Forgive me, Lorey……. I’m sorry. I love you, and I wish this could be different.” With the final words they deliver the crushing blow I knew they would, and I feel like my heart gives out and refuses to beat. My mind blanks and my tears still with shocked numb, too much heartbreak for my mind to deal with anymore.
The fates will pay no heed to his request, but by wolf law, I’m no longer his mate or bound to be. His father will rejoice when he tells him. He’s set me free and we’ve chosen to live with the pain of severance against the imprinting. No matter how much it hurts.
We stand for what feels like the longest minute, holding one another, broken inside, and crying silently in our own and combined personal hell. My face buried against his shoulder and his face in my hair, on the top of my head, arms entangled and fully fitted frontally so every curve and line meets, right down to our ankles. We inhale, we cast one another’s scent to memory and when I don’t think I have the strength to let go, he finally leans back and lifts my chin to his, pushing me to open my tear flooded eyes so I fall into those chocolate browns for the last time.
“I love you.” He utters hopelessly, anguish in his stare, the tensing of that square jawline, and yet all I hear is goodbye. A raspy farewell, one I will never be able to cleanse from my memories or how he looks while saying it to me. He’s too beautiful for words.
“I love you too.” I mutter, so quietly, it’s not even a whisper, but it’s impulsive and raw and honest. He leans in and gently kisses me on my lips, so softly it’s feather light but it ignites that all-consuming agony that only he can cause. A brushing of warm damp softness, a grazing that destroys what little is left of me and tears unleash with fervor once again. It’s so perfect it hurts.
As though casting my face to memory, he stares at me long and hard, pain etched on his face and his own eyes wet with the evidence of his regret. He kisses me one last time, on my forehead, tenderly, holding there a moment and fighting all the need and desire inside of us. The fire burning despite the fact we’re denying it.
He lets me go, backs up several steps and then turns on his heel and runs. No looking back for a second time, no torturing himself with one last lingering look, leaving the heavy air of sorrow floating between us.
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