Alpha's Dark Desires Chapter 196: Failed Job

Kane POV

Shit. Shit. Shit.

I fucked up.

I didn’t think she’d find the damn room. I didn’t think she’d get that far. I shouldn’t have left her alone—I shouldn’t have kept her locked away like so fragile thing that would break if the world touched her. I was trying to protect her. Trying.

But I should’ve known better.

Because now she had seen him.

She had seen Dean like that—and there was no coming back from it.

Her screams still echoed in my head. My back throbbed from where she had kicked . My shoulder stung from where she had clawed trying to get free. But still, I didn’t dare put her down.

"Elena, please—just—" I tried to adjust her weight as she struggled, trying to slip free from my grip.

"FUCK YOU, KANE!" she shrieked, her fists hamring against my back. "You lied to ! YOU FUCKING LIED!"

I clenched my jaw so hard it hurt. "I didn’t lie. I protected you."

"YOU TOOK AWAY FROM HIM WHILE HE WAS DYING!" she scread, her voice ripping apart at the seams. "HE NEEDED —HE CALLED FOR !"

I winced, the sound of her shattering louder than any scream.

"And you—you ripped away like I didn’t even matter!"

God, hearing it from her lips burned worse than any wound.

I tried to set her down, gently, but she shoved herself off the second her feet touched the ground. She stumbled back against the wall, wild and furious, her chest heaving. Her hair was a tangled ss, tears streaming down her flushed cheeks. Her eyes—those beautiful eyes—blazed with hate.

"Don’t touch ," she spat, voice low, lethal. "Don’t you fucking dare touch ."

"Elena—"

"DON’T!" she roared, her body vibrating with rage and grief.

I stood there frozen, fists clenching and unclenching helplessly.

There was nothing I could say that would undo this.

I could tell her that Dean begged to get her out. That he knew the end was coming and didn’t want her to see him like that. That Dean’s last fucking wish was for to protect her from that mory, to shield her.

But none of that mattered now.

All she saw was betrayal.

Her sobs tore out of her, gut-wrenching and broken. She stumbled sideways along the wall, sliding down until she crumpled onto the floor, hugging her knees to her chest like she was trying to hold herself together.

"You said—" she whispered hoarsely, shaking her head. "You said he would be okay... you said you were just checking..."

"I was—he told to—Elena, please," I croaked, sinking to my knees a few feet away from her, keeping the distance she needed.

She didn’t even look at . Just kept rocking herself, soft whimpers breaking free no matter how hard she tried to stifle them.

I pressed my hands into the floor, bowing my head.

"I’m sorry," I whispered, voice shaking. "I didn’t want you to rember him like that... I didn’t want you to hurt like this..."

But I could tell from the way her shoulders flinched that my words only made it worse.

Maybe she heard . Maybe she didn’t.

Maybe she didn’t want to hear anything from ever again.

And fuck, I couldn’t even bla her.

Because I was supposed to protect her.

And all I had done was rip her away from one mate as he took his last breath—and now she was left with .

The mate she hated.

The mate who tore her heart apart the second it mattered most.

And I would carry the weight of that betrayal for the rest of my fucking life.

The one job Dean gave —protect her—and I’d managed to destroy her instead.

I stayed there on my knees, just watching her crumble.

I should’ve gone to her. I should’ve pulled her into my arms. I should’ve done sothing.

But when I finally crawled closer—slow, hands up like approaching a wounded animal—she snapped her head up and scread.

"NO!" she sobbed, shoving away with both hands. "DON’T TOUCH ! DON’T YOU FUCKING TOUCH !"

I froze, heart splintering.

Her face was blotchy, twisted in raw grief, hair sticking to her wet cheeks. She was shaking all over, rocking, clawing at her own skin like she could peel the pain off her body if she just scraped hard enough.

"I should’ve been there!" she shrieked. "I should’ve been with him!"

Tears ran down her neck, soaking into her shirt, but she didn’t even seem to notice.

"You took away—you took away from him!" she wailed, fists pounding the floor weakly. "He died alone!"

"No—" I rasped, reaching again without thinking.

She flinched so violently it felt like I’d stabbed her.

"I COULD HAVE HELPED HIM!" she cried, grabbing handfuls of her hair and yanking like she wanted to tear herself apart. "Maybe—maybe if I’d stayed, if I’d just—I could have saved him!"

"You couldn’t have, Elena," I croaked, voice breaking. "You couldn’t have—Dean knew—"

"SHUT UP!" she scread, so loud it rattled the windows. "You don’t KNOW! You DON’T FUCKING KNOW!"

I did.

I knew Dean was already lost.

But telling her that now would only slice her up worse.

"You lied to ," she gasped between sobs, voice thick and broken. "You—you told he was okay—you locked away while he suffered!"

I pressed my forehead against the floor, fists buried in my hair.

"I thought—I thought it was what he wanted," I whispered. "I thought it was what you needed."

"NEEDED?!" she shrieked. "I NEEDED TO BE WITH HIM!"

Every word was a dagger straight to my gut.

"I needed to say goodbye," she sobbed, collapsing fully onto the floor, curling into herself like a dying thing. "I needed to tell him I was sorry—I needed—"

She broke off, choking on her own breath, and I could only sit there like an idiot, hands trembling, completely fucking useless.

I wanted to hold her.

I wanted to fix it.

I wanted to go back and do it differently.

But there was no fixing this.

There was no taking this kind of hurt back.

She cried and scread and blad —blad herself—until her voice was ragged, until her body gave out and her fists fell limp against the floor.

And I just sat there a few feet away, hands digging into the stone, hating myself with every breath.

Because the worst part wasn’t that she hated .

It was that deep down, I agreed with her.

I should have let her stay.

I should have let her break alongside him if that’s what she wanted.

I should have given her that choice—even if it killed her.

Because now?

Now I’d stolen sothing from her she could never get back.

And even if she forgave soday... even if ti dulled the sharp edges of her rage...

I would never forgive myself.