Page 231 of Alpha Mates

The words taste like poison, but I swallow the bitterness and wait. Aiden lets the silence speak for him, though I can’t decipher its meaning. I wrap an arm around my bent knees, and clutch the flowers beneath me.

When he finally moves, he ignores the way I tense as he sinks into the space beside me. He settles close—far closer than he’s let himself be until now.

“You shouldn’t apologise,” he says after a moment. “You were right.”

This time, I have to look at him, if only to be sure I heard him right.

Guilt harrows his features, twisting them into something quietly shameful as he risks a glance my way.

“I left you before I even came here,” he admits, confirming my earlier accusation. “I sank into my own shit, and I hurt you.” His dark eyes search mine with so much sadness. “And then I hurt you again with what I said about Oliver.”

My gaze falls tothe fist at my side, and I keep it there.

“I’m sorry, Julian,” he continues, leaning closer while I tuck my chin into my elbow. “I am so sorry.”

I nod, hoping the action is enough to make him stop.

I know he’s sorry. I knew it even when he’d first said it. He didn’t mean it. He was hurting and scared, and when Aiden felt scared, he lashed out. I could forgive that. Over time, I know I could, but I can’t speak about it right now—can’t forgive it now.

Thankfully, Aiden seems to recognise that, because he stops. He lets the silence return, and this time neither of us breaks it.

The wind drifts between us, cooling our skin with the sun’s heat gradually growing warmer.

It’s so simple, sitting here like this, that I can’t help but wonder why we don’t do it more often—just sit and relax. With all the lands under our name, the opportunities were endless, but the moments weren’t. There was always something to be done, someone to appease. Always something.

“Oliver didn’t want to be alpha.”

Aiden’s head turns the moment I speak, but he stays deathly still besides that slight movement.

“He used to tell me all the time how much he hated it, how he didn’t think he could do it,” I continue, spilling the secret I’ve never shared with anyone. “He was perfect in front of everyone else. Never complained. Always sure of himself. but when it was just us …” I shake my head, lowering my voice. “I think he was sadder when he smiled more.”

I didn’t realise at first. I thought he was just frustrated when a day of training didn’t go well, saying things he didn’t mean. But even then, I knew—knew Oliver.

“Our pack teaches that the wolves who depend on us come first, then other packs, then nothing.” I pause, repeating the words that shaped us both. “Oliver didn’t like that. He liked everyone. He wasn’t afraid to leave the borders—hewantedto. Like you.” My lips twitch a little at the memory. “It wasn’t about sneaking out to have a good time. He wanted to learn, to speak to every creature he could—witches, vampires, humans. He never cared what they were.”

“He felt bad for the rogues,” I mumble even as the words stick in my throat. “He always said it wasn’t fair that so many were cast out and condemned to madness, just for disagreeing with their alphas. He thought there had to be a way to help them before they broke.” A small, brittle laugh escapes me. “Ironic, isn’t it? That they’d be the ones to tear him apart.”

Aiden pulls me into him as the first tear falls.

“I’m sorry, Julian,” he whispers, his voice as shattered as mine. “I’m so sorry.”

My heart clenches painfully as I cling to him. It helps, the words, because I know he’s not just apologising for the loss of Oli, but for ever mentioning him in the first place.

“I’m sorry too,” I urge as I lift my head enough to meet his dark eyes. “For what I said.” He starts to look away, but I duck my head to keep his gaze. “No matter how hurt I was, I shouldn’t have been so cruel. Not when I know there’s a reason behind how you feel about the rogues.”

His jaw tightens, but he nods quickly, forcing himself to swallow past whatever spark of resentment makes his eyes darken for a moment.

“I was going to tell you,” he says stiffly, each word seeming like a struggle even now. “I still want to. It’s just … hard.”

“I know.” I exhale slowly. “Is that why you hid the rogue hunts?”

Aiden stills, straightening as if I’d just curled one of my claws beneath his heart—struck something vital.

“I’m not angry.” I blurt. “Or I’m not angryanymore.” My hand slides over his. “Iwaswhen you lied the first time, claiming you went to meet your father when you were really out killing rogues.”

My tone hardens as I hold his startled gaze. “I got angrier and angrier when it happened again, and you, one—tried to hide what was going on in my own pack, and two—lied to me about it.” I stop to breathe. “But then I watched.”

He pales. “Youwhat?”