Page 49 of Heroes & Hitmen (Windy City Wolfpack #1)

Miley

I thought leaving would feel like jumping off a building.

Turns out, it’s more like standing at the edge with your toes curled over the concrete, the whole city spread out beneath you, and then just…

not moving. The wind howls, the drop is right there, but you can’t let go. Maybe you just get used to the view.

Last night, I considered calling this whole thing off.

As I lay awake with Ares sleeping peacefully beside me, his warm chest pressed against my back and his arm banded protectively around my waist, it was suddenly easy to picture forever with him.

Morning coffees, nightly cuddles. I thought about how we could just show up to the ceremony, claim our bond before the pack, and make the lie real.

Nobody would question it. Ares would do it in a heartbeat.

I know he would, and maybe I could, too.

There are far worse fates than being tied to Ares Raines for the rest of my life.

But then I thought about Jordan. About the future she’d lose if I stayed, one without politics and forced pairings.

This isn’t just my chance– it’s hers, too.

I could carve out something resembling happiness here with Ares, but it’d be built on her eventual suffering, and that’s not a trade I can live with.

So, I have to step off that ledge.

But every time I steal a glance at Ares, I find myself hesitating to take the leap.

He’s perched on the kitchen peninsula, legs swinging like a kid that’s too big for playgrounds, but his whole body radiates misery.

The mug of coffee beside him has long gone cold, and he isn’t even trying to hide how bad he’s hurting.

That’s what guts me the most. He’s not posturing or playing it cool, he’s just… wrecked.

I’m on the couch, phone in hand, mindlessly scrolling social media.

Well, pretending to. I keep looking up, catching Ares’ reflection in the living room window.

The skyline at dusk is heartbreakingly beautiful– gold fire cutting between buildings, a million tiny lights blooming like manmade stars as the sun drops.

As I drink it in for what might be the last time, I let myself imagine the fantasy version of tonight.

A romantic last supper, a clean goodbye, and actual closure.

But real life rarely grants clean exits.

Real life is full of unfinished business and too many things left unsaid.

The plan is airtight on paper. I’ll take the elevator down to the twentieth floor, pick up Jordan, and we’ll continue down to the parking garage together.

Our bags are already packed and waiting in the trunk of her car.

We’ll slip away while the pack’s distracted by the full moon, and by sunrise, we’ll be safe in Colorado with new names, new lives, and our first taste of true freedom.

“You should probably get going,” Ares murmurs, his voice scraping through the stillness.

My throat tightens. I manage a nod, then croak, “Yeah.”

He rakes both hands through his copper hair, heaving a resigned sigh. The Ares I met weeks ago would be pacing by now, cracking jokes and filling the silence with nonsense. This version is quiet, pulled inside himself like a dying star.

I hate it.

I should say something. I should tell him how I feel, or that I changed my mind, or that I’d rather be doomed together than safe apart. That I love him, and if he asked, I might stay.

Instead, I see him staring off down the hall, rubbing his tongue along his gums, and ask, “Does it still hurt?” even though I already know.

He doesn’t answer right away. He slowly turns to face me, and for the first time all day he lets his mask drop and I see the real damage, the hollowness in his eyes and the grit in his jaw.

He’s been putting on a brave face since undergoing his procedure this morning, but I remember how I felt after my own.

Like I’d been violated, a piece of me stolen.

Ares schools his expression and shrugs as if it’s not even worth discussing. “Less than I expected. More than I wanted.” A flash of old arrogance, dulled by reality .

“I’m sorry,” I whisper.

“Don’t apologize,” he snaps, but there’s no bite in it. Just frustration. “None of this is your fault.”

I huff out a bitter laugh. “It’s all my fault. If I hadn’t walked into that bar, you’d still be a free man. Not tangled up in my personal apocalypse.”

“I’m the one who told your dad we were fated mates, remember?”

“Yeah, to cover for me ,” I point out.

“And I’d do it again.” He almost smiles, but it’s a half-hearted ghost of his usual grin. “No regrets, babe.”

Something inside me fractures.

I look away, blinking hard at the window, gaze dancing between the buildings. The minutes keep slipping away, but I can’t move. I’m terrified to leave, but I know I can’t stay.

“Promise me you’ll be careful,” I whisper, even though the words feel useless. There’s no such thing as careful when Alpha’s gunning for you.

Ares grins for real this time, albeit just a flicker. “Always. You don’t need to worry about me, sweetheart. Just focus on getting out. As long as you’re safe, I’ll be good.”

He hops down from the counter and crosses the room, taking me by the hands and pulling me up from the couch.

His palms settle on my hips, warm and grounding, but it only reminds me of how much I’m about to lose.

I want to memorize this moment– the scent of him, sharp and warm and familiar, the pressure of his body against mine, the tension in the air between us.

He opens his mouth like he wants to say something profound, but nothing comes out. Instead, he just wraps his arms around me, burying his face in my hair and breathing me in like I’m already a memory.

I close my eyes and lean into him, heart cracking open. He holds me until I stop shaking, then pulls back, eyes locking with mine.

“Listen, Miley…”

“Don’t,” I choke, shaking my head. “Don’t say something that’ll make this harder than it already is or make me want to stay.”

“You’re not staying,” he states firmly. “You’re getting out. I want you safe. I want… fuck, I just want you , but you already know that.”

I nod, unable to speak around the lump in my throat .

He brushes a tear off my cheek with his thumb, his smile crooked. “If you fall for some guy in Stillwater, I’ll break his legs,” he jokes. “Just warning you.”

A choked laugh escapes me, then turns into a sob. Then another laugh. This whole situation is just fucked .

“Don’t worry,” I say, wiping my eyes and steeling my composure. “Nobody compares.”

He smiles like he’s proud of that, then leans in, pressing his forehead to mine. We just breathe together for a long moment, and I know this is it.

This is goodbye.

When he steps back and hands me my purse, everything inside me screams.

“Go,” he says gently. “It’s time.”

I want to say a million things, but I don’t trust myself to speak. So, I set my phone down on the coffee table, along with the note I wrote to substantiate our story that I ran away, then start for the door.

I feel him watching me as I cross the room, but I don’t look back. If I do, I know I’ll never leave.

Still, it hurts .

All I’ve ever wanted is to be seen, to be loved, and that’s what Ares does. He sees me. He loves me. I feel it in my bones. But love isn’t freedom, and neither of us gets to keep both.

Maybe in a year, we’ll find our way back. Maybe that’s the lie I’ll cling to so I can make it through tonight, like breaking a bone clean so it heals faster.

I open the door, step into the hall, and close it behind me.

Then I numbly walk to the elevator, pressing the button to summon it while trying to hold back the tidal wave of emotion surging in me.

I know this is how it has to be, but that doesn’t make it hurt any less.

I step in and ride down to the twentieth floor still smelling like him, still aching.

When I step out and head for Jordan’s apartment, unease prickles down my spine. My wolf stirs, suddenly alert, but I chalk it up to adrenaline and nerves as I raise my fist to knock.

There’s no answer right away, so I knock again, hearing the shuffle of footsteps inside. Then the latch clicks, the door opens, and my blood runs cold.

It’s not Jordan who answers .

It’s our father.

Alpha stands in the doorway, dressed to the nines, his expression calm and cruel. “Evening, Miles,” he greets.

I barely have time to flinch before his hand clamps down on my upper arm and he yanks me into the apartment. The door slams behind me, my world tilting on its axis.

Jordan’s curled on the couch, knees hugged to her chest, mascara streaked down her cheeks.

“What did you do?” I choke out, not sure who I’m asking.

“I came here today to inform your sister she’d be paired with Elias Burke tonight, and in response, she shared some very enlightening information,” Alpha answers, lips curving in a sinister grin.

I blink at her in disbelief, but she won’t meet my eyes. “Jordan?” I ask, voice breaking.

She slowly turns to me, and that’s when I see it. The misery, the grief. The regret.

A different kind of pain splits me open as I stare back at her. Betrayal.

I stand frozen, numb, completely hollowed out and cut so deep that I can barely even function. This is what it means to be trapped. Not rules, locks, or chains, but this . Realizing the one person you trusted most was never really on your side at all.

Alpha’s hand curls over my shoulder, the pressure of his grip making me wince.

Jordan shakes her head frantically, a sob tearing from her throat. “I’m so sorry, Miley,” she croaks. “I had to…”