Page 33

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MAGNOLIA

"D o you?"

The words taste like iron on my tongue, raw and bitter. They hang between us, heavy as stone, pressing down on my ribs, curling tight around my throat.

Colt doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t move. Just stands there, his chest rising and falling in slow, steady breaths like he’s bracing for a blow. Like he already knows there’s nothing he can say to fix this.

The silence stretches.

And stretches.

And then, somewhere in the crowd, a baby fusses—a quiet, hiccuping wail, quickly soothed by a mother’s whisper.

Both Colt and me snap our heads toward the sound, and I think I see something in his face that I’m sure he can recognize in mine–the pain of losing a future I thought we would have, of family, of…of babies. I wonder if I should say it, but with everyone’s eyes on me, it’s too much.

I clear my throat. “Reyes?”

He nods. “Yes?”

“Can I talk to Colt alone?”

A ripple moves through the crowd, shifting bodies, flickering lantern light catching in wide, curious eyes. I hear the murmurs start up again, hushed but urgent, uncertainty filling the space.

But I don’t look at them.

I don’t even look at Colt.

I keep my gaze locked on Reyes, my heart pounding, my hands curling into fists to keep from shaking.

He studies me for a long moment. Then, finally, he gives a single nod. “Alright.”

The tension in the room doesn’t ease, but no one argues.

Reyes turns to the pack. “Give them space.”

It’s an order, not a request–and everyone obeys the Prime’s orders.

There’s some hesitation—Frankie’s lips part like she wants to protest, but Will touches her arm, and she stops. Grant rolls his shoulders and mutters something to himself, but he moves. People shift, standing, filing out the side door in a slow, reluctant shuffle, throwing glances over their shoulders as they go.

Peaches squeezes my hand as she passes, then lets go, joining my parents as they cast a worried glance back at me.

Colt doesn’t move.

He just stands there, shoulders squared, jaw tight, hands fisted at his sides like he’s waiting for another blow to land.

I wait until the last of them have gone before I exhale, slow and shaky.

The room is quieter now, empty except for us and the distant crackle of the fire in the hearth. I can still feel the weight of what just happened, the ghosts of all those eyes still pressing down on me, but at least now I can breathe.

Colt shifts slightly, but doesn’t speak first.

Good.

I don’t know where to start.

I turn away from him, pressing my fingers to my temple, forcing myself to find something solid beneath the storm of emotions inside me. My mind keeps catching on things—on the way his voice broke when he said my name, on the way Peaches had been crying, on the moment we both turned toward the sound of that baby crying and knew what it meant.

What it could have meant.

I squeeze my eyes shut for half a second, then open them again.

“You hurt me,” I say, and it comes out hoarse, raw. Like it’s been clawing at my throat this whole time, desperate to get out.

Colt lets out a slow breath. “I know.”

“No,” I snap, whirling on him. “I don’t think you do.”

His mouth parts slightly, like he wants to argue, but he doesn’t. He just lets me say it.

“You didn’t just betray the pack. You didn’t just break the trust of the people who opened their home to you. You broke me, Colt.” My voice shakes. “You let me believe you were something you weren’t. You let me love you. You…you took my first kiss, and you took…you took my virginity, you fucked me, you marked me. And the whole time, you were keeping this from me.”

His jaw tightens. His hands clench at his sides. But he doesn’t deny it.

I shake my head, breath coming sharp and uneven. “Do you know what that means to me?” My voice drops, low and hoarse. “Do you know what a mate bond is to me? To all of us?”

I don’t wait for him to answer.

“It’s sacred. We don’t have God, but we have…we have fate.” My throat locks up, and I swallow against it. “And you treated it like it was nothing.”

Colt flinches.

Not much, not enough for anyone else to notice—but I do. I see the slight hitch in his breath, the way his fists tighten, the barest tremor in his stance like he’s just barely holding himself together.

Good. Let him feel it. Let him know what he’s done.

I press a shaking hand to my chest, gripping at the fabric of my dress like I can steady the beating of my own heart. “You marked me, Colt,” I whisper, and it’s not just pain that cracks through my voice—it’s rage. “That means forever. It means you are mine, and I am yours. It means you chose me—and you didn’t. You lied to me. You were never mine.” My breath shudders out, my ribs aching under the weight of my own words. “You made me believe in something sacred…and you turned it into a lie.”

“It wasn’t a lie,” he rasps.

I let out a bitter laugh. “No? Then what the hell do you call it, Colt?”

He shakes his head, raking a hand through his hair, wild and desperate. “I didn’t mean for it to happen like this,” he says, voice raw. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I didn’t mean to?—”

I bark out a humorless laugh. “Yeah, well, intentions don’t mean shit when you’re bleeding out, do they?”

Colt stiffens–and I understand, because I never talk like this, I never feel like this. I feel like I’m unraveling, my chest heaving, my hands trembling at my sides, my stomach churning like I’m about to throw up. I turn away from him again, rubbing my fingers against my temples, my mind racing too fast, tripping over everything—every word, every moment, every touch.

I marked him back.

I let him claim me.

And I thought?—

Oh, God.

I suck in a breath, my stomach twisting. My vision blurs, not from tears but from something else, something deeper, something clawing at the back of my mind, something I should have seen, something I should have known.

I sway slightly on my feet.

Colt moves like he wants to reach for me, but I shoot him a glare so sharp it stops him in his tracks. He clenches his jaw, forcing himself still.

And then it hits me.

How many times we made love without protection…how I begged him to knot me because I was so certain that I knew him, that he was my future, my everything.

The baby crying earlier—he had this look on his face that made me wonder…

Oh, God.

I can’t breathe.

I press a hand to my stomach, my fingers trembling. Colt watches the movement, his face going pale, and I know—he already figured it out.

“You knew,” I whisper, my voice barely more than a breath.

Colt doesn’t say anything. He just stands there, shoulders tense, hands fisted at his sides.

“You knew,” I say again, louder this time, my voice cracking on the last word. “You knew, and you didn’t tell me?”

His throat bobs. “I didn’t—” He drags a hand down his face. “I only figured it out after I told you everything, when you ran off. I didn’t want to hurt you more than I already had.”

I let out a choked, incredulous sound. “Oh, so you thought keeping this from me would help?” My head spins, my chest so tight it hurts. “You don’t get to make that choice for me, Colt! You don’t get to—” My voice breaks, and I shake my head, my vision blurring. “You don’t get to keep taking from me.”

He looks wrecked.

He should be.

“I swear, Magnolia,” he says, voice hoarse. “I wasn’t hiding it. I just—I figured you didn’t know yet. I figured you’d—” He cuts himself off, exhaling hard. “I was gonna tell Reyes. I wanted to make sure—” His voice wavers. “I wanted to make sure you and the baby would be protected, no matter what happened to me.”

The baby.

I feel like I’m going to be sick.

My breath shudders out of me, my hand pressing harder against my stomach. I don’t know what to do with this, don’t know how to process it when I’m already drowning in everything else.

I should hate him.

I want to hate him.

But this isn’t just about me anymore.

It never was.

Colt watches me, desperation in his eyes. “Say something,” he whispers.

I close my eyes, swallowing against the nausea, the panic clawing at my throat. When I finally speak, my voice is quiet, but steady.

“You don’t deserve to stay,” I say, opening my eyes to meet his. “But if you really love me—if you love this baby—you’ll earn it.” I let out a slow breath. “You’ll work. You’ll repent.”

His entire body goes still.

“If you want to be in my life,” I say, voice unwavering, “if you want to be in this child’s life—you will prove yourself to this den, day after day, until they trust you again. Until I trust you again.”

A silence stretches between us.

Then, slowly, Colt falls to his knees.

His head bows.

“I swear.”

Colt kneels before me, his head bowed, hands open at his sides.

For a long, stretched-out second, I just stare at him—at the man who shattered me, the man who lied, the man who might be the father of my child. His shoulders are broad, but there’s no tension in them, no fight left in his stance. He doesn’t move like a man ready to plead his case—he moves like a man accepting a sentence.

The weight of it nearly knocks the breath from my lungs.

He’s swearing to me, but I don’t know if I believe it.

I don’t know if I can.

My heart pounds hard against my ribs, my pulse hammering in my ears. My hand stays curled protectively over my stomach, like I can shield the life that might be inside me from all of this—like I can keep it safe in a way I never kept myself safe with Colt.

I should hate him.

I want to hate him.

But what I feel is so much worse than hate.

I wrap my arms around myself, barely keeping my voice steady. “You say you’ll work for it. That you’ll prove yourself.” I shake my head. “But what does that even mean, Colt?”

His head lifts slightly, his gaze meeting mine—raw, unguarded. “It means I’ll do whatever it takes,” he says, his voice hoarse. “You tell me what you need from me, Magnolia, and I’ll do it. You want me to rebuild trust with the pack? I will. You want me to keep my distance until I’ve earned the right to stand beside you again? I will.” His throat works around a swallow. “You want me to spend the rest of my life making this up to you?” His voice cracks. “I will.”

I suck in a breath, fighting the way those words tug at my heart.

Because I want to believe him.

God, I want to believe him so badly it hurts.

But he already promised me forever once.

And he lied.

I close my eyes, shaking my head. “You don’t get to just say that and expect it to be enough.”

Colt sighs. “I know.”

My breath shudders out of me. I shake my head, pressing my fingers to my temple, trying to find solid ground.

I want to yell at him. I want to cry. I want to hit him, to make him feel this, to make him understand that no amount of swearing, no amount of kneeling will ever undo what he did.

But I just stand there.

Shaking.

Hurting.

Talking in circles because I don’t know what else to do.

“I don’t even know what I’m saying anymore,” I whisper.

Colt exhales, his voice low and careful. “It’s okay.”

“It’s not.” My throat tightens, a frustrated burn rising behind my eyes. “None of this is okay.”

“I know,” he says again.

I press my knuckles against my lips, squeezing my eyes shut for half a second, trying to fight back the pressure building behind my ribs.

I can’t do this right now.

I can’t stand here, picking at wounds that are already bleeding, trying to find words when there are none.

I open my eyes again, meeting his, my breath still shaking.

“I don’t know if I can ever forgive you,” I whisper.

Colt’s jaw tenses, but he nods. “I know.”

I exhale, long and slow. “But I meant what I said. If you love me, if you love this baby, you’ll work.”

His throat bobs. “I will.”

I nod, swallowing against the lump in my throat. “Then that has to be enough for now.”

Colt bows his head, his hands clenching at his sides.

I don’t say anything else.

I just turn and walk away.