Page 18 of Rejected by My Shadow Alpha (Mate to the Fallen #1)

Drew

I had hurt her badly.

The words sang in my head like a nagging headache.

I sat at the desk, staring at the screen, the glow of my laptop casting pale shadows across the walls.

The laptop screen cast a pale light over the otherwise dark room, the blinking cursor pulsing like a second heartbeat, one that knew everything I couldn't say aloud, everything I didn't dare speak.

Liora's healing was going better than I ever hoped.

The curse that once clung to her like shadows at dawn had started to lift.

She was stronger and even laughing. Her tiny fingers no longer trembled when she held my hand.

I should've felt relieved and even at peace, but all I felt was fear because any moment, Ruby could tell me to leave.

And she'd have every right.

I had returned to my pack briefly after the last healing.

I told myself it was to regroup, gather supplies, and make strategic decisions, but deep down, I knew I needed to put some space between me and the woman whose eyes I couldn't meet without guilt flaring in my chest and who used to bare her heart to a man called Wolfsbane22, not knowing he was me.

I opened my inbox. No message. She had been awfully withdrawn from Wolfsbane22, too.

It had been over a week since I last wrote to her as Wolfsbane22.

In our last conversation, I had asked if she had found the alpha, and she had said yes without many details.

I still couldn't bring myself to tell her I was Wolfsbane22.

Not yet. If she knew, she might shut me out completely, and I wasn't ready to lose her again.

As Wolfsbane22, I could still be close, still part of her world, even if only through words.

So, I made a choice. If she wouldn't talk to Drew, maybe she'd talk to Wolfsbane22.

Maybe I could find out what she really felt about me, about Drew, from the safety of someone she trusted.

I clicked into the message thread and hesitated before typing.

"Hey! How's it going with the alpha? Is your daughter okay now?"

She was online. The ticks turned blue. I stared at the screen. Seconds dragged. Then finally, typing…

"Hey, sorry for going silent. It's just that a lot's been happening lately."

I sat back, breathing in that pause. It was easier connecting with her as Wolfsbane22 behind the screen than as Drew in the flesh.

"That's okay," I typed quickly. "You don't owe me a reply every time. I just wanted to check in. I've been thinking about you and your daughter, hoping things are okay."

Another pause. A long one. The dots blinked again. "Thanks. She's doing better now. Stable."

"I'm glad to hear that."

Then I tried gently, careful with my words: "Has the alpha been able to help in any way? With your daughter, I mean."

The blinking dots vanished for a long stretch. Then, finally, she answered. "Yes."

Just that. I stared at the single word, hungry to hear what she thought of me. My fingers hovered. "What was it like?" I asked. "I mean, was it what you expected?"

Another long pause. "Honestly?" She typed, "It felt like the earth tilted under me. He's not just any alpha. He's someone I buried that came clawing back up from my past."

I swallowed hard, my throat dry. I typed, feigning ignorance, "You knew him in the past?"

She paused. The typing dots flickered off again. Then back. "He's someone I used to know. Someone I had an unsavory encounter with."

"Hmmm…" I typed. "That must've been hard. Especially after all these years."

"It was," she wrote. "Still is. Seeing him again feels like being haunted while wide awake." There was another lull. Then came more. "He's my fated mate. The same one who rejected me to punish my bloodline."

I stopped breathing. It must have been hard for her to see me again. I felt the stab of regret and pain in my gut.

I sent a shocked emoji. "That must've been crushing. Have you been able to talk to anyone about it? Just to feel a bit lighter?"

Her reply came after a long pause. "No. I mean, I wanted to, but I haven't been able to bring myself to trust anyone with that kind of pain.

" Another pause. "My herbal partner and I are close, but we've both avoided digging too deep into our pasts or why we ran to Littleton. We feel like it's safer that way."

I stared at the screen, my chest tight. Then I typed slowly: "You could talk to me if it helps. No pressure. Just if it'll ease the weight a little."

She didn't respond right away, but I saw the dots flicker. Then fade. Then flicker again. "I've spent years trying to heal from that night, and now here he is, breathing again in my world. I keep waiting to wake up from it." A single crying emoji.

I felt something press deep into my chest. Her words slammed into me, sharp and unfiltered. I buried my face in my hands. This was agony. I was both the sanctuary she turned to and the storm that destroyed her.

I typed, then deleted. Typed again. Deleted. Finally, I settled on: "I'm so sorry to hear all of this. It must have been hard for you." Then I added, "That's a lot to carry, Moonleaf, and if I'm honest, I wasn't sure you'd even tell me this much."

Her reply was quiet and tentative: "Neither was I, but you've been kind. I don't know why, but it's easier to say things to you."

I hovered. Coward. My fingers trembled. Then I added another line: "You must hate him now—the alpha."

It was the closest I could get to asking what I really wanted to know. She didn't reply right away. I imagined her staring at the screen, debating whether I was worth the truth. The dots flickered.

"I want to hate him," she wrote. "But I don't know how to stop this ache. It's like my bones remember him, even when my heart is breaking."

I stared, unmoving. A low groan slipped past my throat before I could stop it.

Goddess. Her words scorched through me, raw, unfiltered, and aching, and all I could think was: Me too.

My body remembered her like a fire that it never forgot how to burn for—the curve of her mouth, the softness of her breath, and the way her soul felt like home even in silence.

She still ached for me, and I was drowning in my own hunger for her.

"I keep telling myself he's not worth it," she went on. "That I'm stronger now, but the moment I saw him, everything shattered and realigned at once. Anger. Longing. Grief. They all showed up like ghosts I can't banish. I hate that I still want him."

I read her message three times, my chest tight. She still wanted me. After everything. After the rejection, the silence, and the fake death. I wasn't worth a fraction of it. I should have stopped there. I should have said something kind and closed the chat, but I needed to know.

"I can't imagine the weight you're carrying right now." I paused, typing the next question, deleting it twice before sending. "Is the child his?"

The moment I hit send, guilt roared up my spine. What the hell was I doing? The dots didn't appear. Seconds turned into a full minute. My heart thumped like war drums. Then, finally, I saw typing. It disappeared again, and then I saw typing again. Another pause. At last, her reply dropped.

"Why are you asking that?"

I froze. She wasn't ready to say it. My chest thudded. I had pushed too hard. I typed: "Because you sound like someone who's been carrying too much alone, and sometimes just saying things out loud helps lighten the load."

This time, the silence stretched longer. Then finally: "I didn't mean to say that much earlier," she wrote. "You caught me in a moment. I've never even said those words out loud."

I waited, my breath stuck in my throat.

"I wasn't going to tell anyone," she continued. "Not even my partner, but she has a sharp mind and has known already."

My screen blurred for a second. She was trusting me, the one who hurt her.

"But yes." A beat. "She is. The child…she's his." Then, after a pause, cold, sharp like ice, she added: "But he doesn't know, and he never will. That part of me died the night he marked me and walked away."

The air fled my lungs. Liora was my child.

Then, as if she had to bleed it out before it buried her alive, another message: "I wish I could rip this bond out of me and erase the way his scent torments me, but it's worse now, Wolfsbane.

He's the father of my child. The one who abandoned me.

I cannot trust him with my child, so he must never know. I'd rather die than let him know."

I couldn't move. I couldn't breathe. Her words weren't just confessions. They were shackles and scars, and I had given her every single one.

I pressed my palm to my chest, as if I could slow the storm behind my ribs. How the hell will I fix this? Liora was my child, and I had abandoned her when she needed me the most. My heart thundered in my ears, and suddenly I couldn't sit still.

I pushed up from my chair and stepped into the hallway. The walls felt too narrow and the silence too loud. I needed to see her, just for a moment. Maybe I could explain. Maybe I could ask for another chance to…

"Are you there?" Her message chimed in.

I sat down quickly and paused. What could I say at this point?

"Yes, I got distracted by a call." I typed, then I stared at the blinking cursor. Liar. The truth was I needed time to absorb the ache behind her words.

My fingers hovered again. I inhaled, and then I typed slowly. "This must be so hard for you, Moonleaf. I'm sorry you had to carry all that pain alone. Truly."

I stared at the message. It wasn't enough, but it was all I could give without unraveling. A second later, I added:

"I just got an SOS. A wolf is in distress nearby. I have to go, but I'll write back as soon as I can. Please take care of yourself and the little one."

I hesitated a beat before pressing send.

Then I closed the laptop, the weight in my chest heavier than before.

Her words clung to me; heavy, suffocating, and impossible to peel off.

The confession, the pain behind it, the bond that still tethered her to me despite everything I had done was too much.

Suddenly, the room felt too small. The walls of my office closed in on me, and the air grew thick and unbreathable.

I shoved the chair back and stood, my heart pounding like a war drum in my chest.

I needed air or space, anything to clear the weight in my lungs. I stepped out into the hallway, the dim light doing nothing to settle the storm in my chest. My footsteps were near silent as I moved, trying to get to the back porch where the night might offer some peace.

A muffled voice stopped me.

It was coming from Jay in my beta's office. I paused by the door and drew closer. It was slightly open so I could see his face slightly, his smartphone pressed to his ear. His face was twisted in anger, but something in his tone made the hairs on the back of my neck rise.

"She's his?" His voice was sharp, bitter. "And he didn't tell me? Drew had a child with that man's daughter and didn't think to inform his beta?"

I froze.

He knows.

Jay's voice turned venomous. "He polluted our bloodline with hers.

No wonder the child is cursed. Honestly, I'm glad someone from the pack had the sense to lay a blood curse on that abomination.

If only I knew who did it, I'd thank them.

If I had known he'd use his alpha powers to heal her, I would've stopped it.

I would've let the curse run its course.

Why let her live after what Alpha Alfred did to us? "

The words hit like a blade to the gut.

How did he know this? Only Lena and Alex knew about Ruby and Liora. Could it be? I shook my head, erasing the thought. Someone knew about them before me and had placed the curse on my child.

My vision blurred with rage. My wolf lunged inside me, furious and ready to tear through the door.

My fists clenched until my nails drew blood.

He was talking about my daughter. About Ruby.

I wanted to crush him, but I forced myself to stay still, to listen and think.

If I lost it now, I'd never know how deep this betrayal went.

Jay had revealed more than he knew. If he knew about the curse, then it must mean someone in my pack had cursed Liora, and he would've let her die.

There would be consequences, but not yet. First, I needed the truth, then I'd unleash my fury on whoever was behind it all.

Jay was still talking. "He's weak where she's concerned. If he keeps this up, he'll lead us into ruin. I won't let our pack fall for the sake of some half-blood child."

My vision blurred. He would've let Liora die.

Now I knew someone from my pack had cursed her.

The bloodline angle made sense now. That's why my alpha energy could heal her.

The curse had been etched into her blood, and only someone tied to it could reverse it.

Someone from my side had done this. Like a light bulb, I recalled the day I heard a sound outside my office.

I was talking to Moonleaf then. Had I unknowingly put Ruby and Liora in danger?

I backed away from the door, every instinct screaming for blood and vengeance, but I couldn't give in to it.

Not yet. I returned to my room, my body tense and mind spiraling.

I couldn't trust anyone. Not even my own beta.

Jay hadn't known about the curse, but he'd clearly be fine with it.

If I hadn't stepped in, Liora could have died.

I pressed a trembling hand to my mouth. They would've let my daughter die.

I sat down heavily, staring at nothing. I could still smell Ruby's scent lingering in my memory like crushed wild rose flowers and wood smoke.

I thought of her fierce gaze and the pain she still carried.

She didn't trust me and didn't want me near her daughter.

Our daughter.

But she needed me now, even if she'd never admit it.

And by the Goddess, I would protect them both, even if I had to burn down everything I once stood for—even if it meant facing down my own pack.

This war had never ended, and now, it was at our doorstep again, but this time, I wouldn't run.

I would fight. For her. For Liora. For redemption. Even if it meant betraying my pack.