POV: Chloe

The city skyline rose on the horizon, swallowing the green hills of Blackthorn territory behind us. I watched it through the window, my reflection ghosting over the glass.

I couldn’t recognize my face; it felt like a stranger looking back at me.

"Seven years."

For seven years, I’d convinced myself I was over him. Seven years of cramped apartments and quiet nights—a life built around the absence of anything that might remind me of what I’d lost.

And then one drive up the mountain, one glimpse of him on a balcony, and all of it came apart like wet paper. It’s insane how my walls crashed down the second I set eyes on him.

I thought about meeting Ethan in a coffee shop six months ago. He’d flashed me that golden smile, and something in my chest loosened for the first time in years. I remembered thinking, He feels safe. He’s uncomplicated.

But now, sitting beside him in this car, watching his hands on the steering wheel—strong hands, so much like another set I’d spent years trying to forget.

I finally understood what I’d actually been doing. I hadn’t fallen for Ethan because he was easygoing. I’d fallen for him because some desperate part of me had recognized something.

The way he tilts his head, the low note in his laugh, the shape of his jaw when he was thinking...

It was like pieces of Tristan were scattered through his brother like fragments of a shattered mirror. I had gathered them up without even realizing I was building a version of the man I’d lost out of the only pieces I could reach.

That wasn’t love—not the kind Ethan deserved, anyway. It was grief wearing love’s clothes. My stomach turned. I pressed my hand against the window, the glass cool against my palm.

I felt something inside me click into place—a decision settling like a stone at the bottom of a lake. I had to end this today.

We didn’t talk much on the rest of the drive. Ethan hummed along to the radio, occasionally glancing over to flash me a smile, totally unaware that I was sitting beside him rehearsing the words that would break his heart.

He pulled into the garage beneath my apartment—the same garage where this nightmare had started less than twenty-four hours ago, the same place we had made out a few times.

I couldn’t look at him; my hands were shaking in my lap. He cut the engine, and the silence pressed in.

“Hey.” He turned to me, and for the first time all day, the warmth on his face dimmed, replaced with something careful. “You’ve been quiet, Chloe. Is everything okay? Did something happen at the manor? If my brother said something to you...”

“Ethan,” I interrupted, my tone stern. My voice came out steadier than I felt. “We need to talk.”

He went still. I forced myself to keep going, because if I stopped now, I never would.

“I’ve been thinking about us, Ethan. About where this is going,” I confessed, unable to hold his gaze. I could only stare at my hands twisted in my lap. “I think you’re amazing, Ethan. I really do. But I think... I think we’re not right for each other. You’re still young, and I...”

“What do you mean, young?” His voice was confused. “We’re only three years apart, Chloe.”

“It’s not just the age,” I said firmly. I finally made myself look at him. “It’s everything. You’re clingy, Ethan. You need constant reassurance and contact, and I... I can’t be that for you. I think we’re just incompatible. We should break up.”

I finally dropped the bomb I’d been trying to sugarcoat.

The words hung in the air, ugly. Ethan didn’t move. For a long moment he just stared at me, his expression frozen between disbelief and something raw that was coming fast.

“You’re...” His voice cracked. “You’re breaking up with me?” he asked in shock, struggling to process it.

“Ethan...”

“No.” He shook his head, frantic. “No, no, no, no... you can’t, Chloe. I won’t let you,” he denied. “I don’t get it. Yesterday everything was fine. Yesterday we were happy, and now...” His breathing turned uneven. “Did Tristan say something? Did he do something to you? Tell me what happened. Please, I’ll fix it. Whatever it is, I’ll fix it, I swear. I’ll—”

“It’s not about Tristan,” I lied. The lie tasted like ash in my mouth. “It’s about us. It’s about—”

“Don’t.” His hands flew up, gripping the steering wheel so hard his knuckles turned white. “Don’t leave me. Please.” His voice had dropped to a small whisper. “Please, Chloe, I can’t...” he choked out.

And then, without warning, he started to cry. Not the embarrassed tears of a guy caught off guard, but something deeper. Something tearing its way up from a dark place he kept locked away.

“You don’t understand,” he sobbed. “You don’t know what it’s like to lose people. To have someone just... gone. One second they’re there and the next...” He pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes, trying to hide his tears.

“When I was seven, I begged my parents to take me to Moonveil Park. I wouldn’t stop asking. I cried until they gave in, even though it was dangerous. The pack was at war with rogues back then, and nobody was supposed to leave the territory,” he confessed, staring blankly ahead.

My breath caught. He’d never told me how his parents died. I knew it was a painful memory, so I never pushed. But today, he was ripping the wound open.

“On the way back,” Ethan continued, his voice shaking, “rogues attacked the car. I remember the sound before anything else. Glass breaking. My mother screaming my name.” His hands were trembling badly now. “My wolf had just woken up that year. I didn’t know how to shift, how to fight—nothing. I just watched. I watched them die right in front of me. There was so much blood, Chloe. It was everywhere, and I couldn’t do anything...”

“Ethan.” My chest ached, guilt and horror twisting my gut. “Ethan, I’m so sorry...”

“It was my fault.” Tears streamed down his face. He looked so shattered that for a moment, I forgot my wariness. All I saw was a little boy who’d watched his world end and was never allowed to put it back together. “I begged them to go. If I hadn’t... if I’d just listened...”

“It wasn’t your fault.” I reached for him without thinking, my hand finding his arm. “Ethan, you were a child. None of that was your fault.”

“Since then, I...” He pressed his face into my palm, his eyes squeezed shut and his breathing ragged. “I can’t lose people, Chloe. I can’t. If you leave too, I don’t... I don’t know what I’d do,” he confessed, finally looking at me.

In that moment, with his red eyes and broken expression, he looked so much like Tristan. The same eyes, the same bone structure—just wounded.

My resolve simply snapped. I thought of Tristan’s warning from the night before.

“Break up with him,” he’d commanded.

I thought about everything I’d just realized in the car. And then I looked at the man in front of me—falling apart, begging me not to become another person who vanished without a trace. I couldn’t do it. Not like this. Not today.

“Okay,” I heard myself whisper, defeated. “Okay. We won’t break up.”

He managed a weak smile as his breath caught.

“But,” I added quickly before he could fully exhale, “I think we need to slow down. The wedding... we should postpone it for now. Just until things feel clearer.”

For a moment, he just stared at me, processing. Then his face crumpled with relief. He pulled me into his arms so tightly I could barely breathe, burying his face in my shoulder.

“Okay,” he whispered, his voice thick. “If that’s what you want, baby, I’m fine with it. Whatever you need. Just don’t leave. Please don’t leave me, Chloe.”

“I won’t,” I murmured, even as my gut twisted with doubt.

He pulled back, and he was smiling again—that same sunlit smile from this morning. It was like the storm had never happened, like the last five minutes had been completely wiped away.

“Thank you,” he said softly. “Thank you, baby. I love you so much.”

I gave him a tight smile, exhaustion settling into my bones, and looked away to grab my bag from the floorboards.

POV: Ethan

The moment Chloe turned away, the smile dropped from my face. As I watched her gather her things, something dark stirred beneath my ribs. My wolf peered through my eyes, tracking every flex of her muscles, obsessed with her.

She’s not leaving, the voice whispered, certain, curling through every nerve in my body.

She’s ours... She has to be ours, he growled in my head. My hands tightened on the wheel as I realized how close I had come to losing the girl I loved.

If she goes... you know what happens. You remember what it feels like to lose everything. To lose control, he warned, forcing the memories to the surface.

She can’t leave us. She’s ours... mine! he snarled.

She’s not leaving. She’s ours, I replied through our link.

Good, the beast murmured. Keep her close. Do whatever it takes. We can’t lose her.

I closed my eyes for a second. When I opened them again, my smile was back in place—harmless.

“Ready, baby?” I asked.

Chloe smiled back at me, looking defeated. She had no fucking clue that I would never let her go. Not now. Not ever.