Alethea

“You don’t get to tell me I’m your mate—not now. And don’t you dare bring our son into this!” I snap, my voice sharp and full of pain.

I let out a bitter laugh, one that tasted like anger and heartbreak.

“Oh, now you remember I’m your mate?” I say, my eyes scanning him.

He looks like a mess. His eyes are hollow, with dark circles sitting heavily underneath. His shoulders slump like he’s carrying a mountain of guilt. For a second, my heart pulls toward him. I want to run to him, cup his face in my hands, and whisper that it’s going to be okay. I want...