Elodie’s POV—
The air was cold that afternoon, so sharp enough to sting my cheeks as I sat on the park bench. Leaves rustled above . Across the path, a man leaned down to kiss his mate’s cheek, his hand brushing tenderly over the small swell of her stomach. The glow on her face, the way he looked at her like nothing else mattered; it twisted sothing deep inside .
I should have looked away, but I didn’t. My chest ached with an emotion I couldn’t na, half joy for them, half sothing darker, heavier. Sothing I didn’t want to admit lived inside .
“They look happy,” Mila said quietly beside .
“They do,” I whispered, forcing my eyes down to my hands. My fingers were stiff from the cold, but they wouldn’t stop fidgeting. “So how’s work, babes?”
Mila didn’t push. She never did. “Work’s the sa,” she said after a pause. “Alphas sending contracts they expect to rewrite overnight. Nothing new.”
I nodded, though I wasn’t listening. My mind was elsewhere, three years behind , and yet still painfully close. Three years since I walked away from Calhoun. Three years since I’d sent him that final ssage that had gutted as much as it freed :
‘Nine years loving you in silence. Five years pretending it was enough. This is the end of the line.’
I’d ant it. Moon goddess, I had. I’d forced myself to an it, even as I packed what little was mine, even as I tore my wolf in half to do it. I’d built a new life, brick by shaky brick, my own apartnt, my work in tech developnt, quiet mornings that weren’t filled with his shadow. But so nights I’d still wake with his na in my throat, extrely raw and broken, as though he’d carved himself into my lungs.
And then Dante had appeared. Six months ago at a Pack conference in New York, the Alpha of the Bellini Pack in Italy and a tech Morgul. He’d sought out after my presentation, his interest had been imdiate, not just in my work, but in . Where Calhoun had once consud like a storm, Dante had been patient. Dinners that turned into long nights talking. Calls that drifted from business to personal. For the first ti in years, I’d felt seen.
“Elodie.” Mila nudged gently. “You’re lost in your head again.”
Heat rose to my cheeks. “Dante... he asked to go to Italy with him. To his Pack.”
Her brows lifted. “For how long?”
“A year. Maybe longer.” I swallowed. “He wants to lead his AI developnt team. And... it’s not just about work. It’s personal too.”
“That’s a big leap after six months,” she said carefully, her Alpha’s instinct weighing every word.
“I know.” My voice cracked, and I hated how fragile it sounded. “But when I’m with him... I don’t feel small. I don’t feel like soone’s shadow. He sees , Mila. Not as a convenience, not as soone to keep hidden. Just .”
I hesitated. My hands wouldn’t stop twisting in my lap. Finally, I whispered, “And there’s sothing else.”
Mila stilled, her eyes narrowing slightly. “What is it?”
I forced myself to say it, the words heavy on my tongue. “I’m pregnant.”
The silence that followed stretched so long between us that I couldn’t even breathe. I could hear children laughing sowhere deeper in the park, leaves crunching beneath strangers’ footsteps. But here, between us, it was suffocating.
“Does he know?” she asked softly.
I shook my head. “No. I found out last week.” My throat burned. “I don’t know how to tell him. What if he changes when he finds out? What if... what if I ruin this too? What if I destroy him the way I destroyed myself with Calhoun?”
Mila’s hand covered mine, and gently squeezed reassuringly. “Listen to . Dante isn’t Calhoun. And you aren’t the sa woman you were with him either. You’re stronger now. You’ll handle whatever cos.”
I wanted to believe her. I wanted to let her strength bleed into . But all I felt was the ghost of Calhoun’s na still burning in my chest, the wound he’d left raw, unhealed and still aches.
“I’m going to tell him tonight,” I whispered.
And for the first ti in a long while, I was terrified of both the truth and the future it might bring.
———————————
The restaurant I was in slled of charred wood and rich wine, but I barely noticed. Candlelight flickered across the table, painting Dante’s face in gold and shadow. He hadn’t stopped looking at all evening, like he could sense the storm building behind my calm mask.
“You’ve been... sowhere else tonight,” he said, his Italian accent thick, almost lodic. His hand brushed against mine lightly. “Tell , cara. What’s on your mind?”
I swallowed hard. My throat felt tight, dry. Every instinct told to hold back, to protect myself but the truth pressed so urgently against my chest that it hurt.
“I... I need to tell you sothing,” I whispered, my voice sounded fragile.
Dante’s dark eyes softened, but there was still that quiet strength, that Alpha presence that always made feel both safe and exposed. “Whatever it is, we face it together.”
The words broke sothing open in . “...I’m... I’m... pregnant.”
The second the words left my lips, the restaurant seed to shrink. His glass paused halfway to his mouth, suspended in air as though the world itself had stopped. My heart hamred so hard I thought it might escape my chest.
“Say sothing,” I begged, my voice trembling, my hands tightening around my own.
Dante set the glass down slowly. For a long, terrifying mont, his face was unreadable. And then, slowly, impossibly, his mouth curved, softening, opening into a smile that reached his eyes, lighting the shadows in them.
“A baby,” he murmured, voice low, reverent, almost in disbelief. “Our baby.”
Relief washed over in. My knees went weak, my chest loosened, and for the first ti in months, I exhaled without thinking.
“You’re... happy?” The words ca out shakier than I intended, because even joy felt laced with fear after everything I’d lived through with Calhoun, the emptiness, the cold, the nights I cried alone.
“Happy?” Dante leaned across the table, hands covering mine, fingers pressing warmth into mine. “I’m more than happy. I’m alive, Elodie. I’m... I’m terrified, but ecstatic, and I wouldn’t change a second of this. Not one.”
My breath caught. His words should have been enough, but he wasn’t finished. He reached into his jacket, producing a small velvet box that glead under the candlelight.
“Dante...” My voice trembled.
“This isn’t because of the baby, Elodie,” he said quickly. “I’ve been carrying this with . Waiting for the right mont.”
The box opened. Inside sat a diamond, so simple, and yet elegant. My chest tightened, mories of Calhoun flashing through my mind. While Calhoun had been cold, indifferent, distant... And here was Dante, who was warm, makes feel alive, offering everything I had once thought I couldn’t deserve.
“Elodie,” he said, his was voice low and, yet tender, “I don’t believe in coincidences. eting you, surviving my own darkness, falling in love, this child, it’s all... fate. Will you marry ?”
Tears pricked at my eyes. My fingers shook as they hovered over the ring. I saw everything at once, the fear, the heartbreak, the scars left by a man who never cared, and the hope, the warmth, the pull of another man who would move heaven and earth for .
“Yes,” I whispered, voice breaking, but firm. “Yes, I’ll marry you.”
Dante’s hands tightened around mine, forehead pressing to mine. His heat, his strength, his life, the Alpha’s presence I had always craved, all wrapped around , so protective, and possessive. And for the first ti, I allowed myself to feel sothing beyond fear. Beyond heartbreak. I allowed myself to hope.
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