Chapter 6

Alpha Alexander POV I quickly walked through the dimly lit corridor to my ensuite, a space I once shared with Frida. Since her death, I had locked it up, preserving the privacy of her belongings and the memories of our time together. It wasn’t about being haunted by the past; rather, I needed to seal away that chapter of my life, safeguarding the joyful moments we shared. Frida’s recent passing profoundly affected me, altering the person I was. Her absence marked a stark transformation, a change that felt like an evolution forced upon me by the harsh reality of her no longer being here. I should have foreseen the change, but I was comfortable with the life I had with Frida as my mate and the mother of my children. The version of me before wouldn't have lashed out at Vanessa or burdened her with guilt for her actions. Normally, I would have been the first to apologize for any misunderstandings during times I was inebriated. Yet, I find myself embodying a different aspect of my character—one less inclined to be the gracious figure I had become. That shift was largely influenced by Frida. Her serene demeanor and nurturing presence always brought out the best in me. Her maturity, being my senior, helped me navigate life's hurdles with grace. Now, with her gone, I find myself reverting to the man I was before we met—before she chose me in the woods. This return to my former self was an unexpected transformation, driving me away from the man I had become with her. As I storm into the bathroom, I angrily turn on the shower, my sweatpants still clinging to my body. Anger rips through me, a venomous surge winding its way through my veins. My stomach tightens into a solid knot—this level of hurt is unfamiliar. I'm wounded, deeply betrayed by her actions. How could she? Yes, our wolves sensed a mate connection, but it's meaningless! Utterly meaningless. Why did she behave as though it held any weight? She's been like a sister to my children, practically a sibling to Alfie and Amelia. How could she disregard the bonds she's built, the friends she's supposed to care about? What was going through her mind? Gripping the showerhead, I clench it so tightly that the metal begins to yield under the pressure. Realizing my strength, I force myself to let go before I cause any damage. It's been years since I've lost my temper like this—since before I married Frida and settled into family life. But now, in the heat of the moment, I can't fathom why I declared she'd be my personal maid. Yet, I can't stand the thought of her returning to the human world, not with my mark—a mark far larger and more possessive than the one I gave Frida—branded on her neck. It's as if, in my drunken stupor, I was trying to declare her mine to everyone, even though that's far from the truth. What will I tell my children when they discover I've bitten their best friend? The same friend who only returned hours ago to mourn their mother, my late wife? Vanessa has put herself in this situation, and now, she's going to end up a maid in my mansion, where I reside in the company of other servants. The loneliness of the house weighs on me, intensified by the departure of Alfie and Amelia two years ago. They left just as Frida, who decided then was her time to leave this world too, died. Living without Frida is suffocating; she was my stability, my ease, and the perfect counterpart who made everything manageable. Her presence turned life into a serene journey. But now, she’s gone. It’s absurd, truly—on the day I buried her, the day we laid her to rest six feet under, I marked another in our home, a home filled with the echoes of our happiest times. Frida, in her wisdom and with her impending demise, urged me to find my true mate. She had made peace with her fate long ago, knowing her own mate had died in a war before they could unite. She lived and loved, believing her time was fulfilled, and left me with a blessing, yet here I am, tangled in a mess she never would have imagined. Caught in the midst of managing the pack and the lingering responsibilities toward my children, Frida's wish for me to find connection with my fated mate felt misplaced. Yet, the complexities of my own feelings have only deepened. Alfie has his own life, happily married to Emily, and soon to be a college graduate. Amelia, on the other hand, is thriving in her career as a model, unconcerned with finding her mate, which worries me more than I'd like to admit. And then there's Vanessa. Marking her has irrevocably changed the fabric of our lives. She’s two decades my junior, a stark reminder of the difference between us, yet now our destinies are intertwined by the mate bond, more profound than anything I experienced with Frida. The irony doesn't escape me; Frida wanted me to find this sort of connection, and now that I have, it feels like a cruel twist of fate. The mind-link that binds Vanessa and me is undeniable, a connection that transcends the many years I spent with Frida, rendering our situation not just complicated, but pitifully ironic. Hunter's response was a low growl that vibrated through my entire being. "You think this is her fault? You're the one who couldn't control yourself, Alexander. You marked her, not the other way around. Vanessa didn't ask for any of this." His words stung with truth, a truth I wasn't ready to face. Each syllable hammered against my conscience, echoing the reckless behavior I had shown. "She is innocent in this. And yet, you treat her like she's the one who committed a crime," Hunter continued, his voice now a mix of frustration and disappointment. "I can't... I just can't deal with this now, Hunter. It's too much. Too soon after Frida..." I muttered, feeling a mix of anger and desperation swell within me. "You need to step up, Alexander. You're not just a man; you're an Alpha. Start acting like one. Accepting Vanessa doesn't mean forgetting Frida. But you owe it to yourself—and to Vanessa—to at least try to make this right. Stop running from what the Moon Goddess has given you," Hunter pressed, his tone softening, trying to pierce through the fog of my anger and grief. As the reality of my situation settled around me like a heavy cloak, I realized that my resistance was not only hurting Vanessa but also dishonoring Frida’s last wishes. Perhaps it was time to confront the possibility that this unexpected bond could lead to a path of healing, both for me and for the pack. My hands, still stinging from the impact with the tile, slowly relaxed as I considered Hunter’s words. Maybe it was time to stop fighting what was destined and start finding a way forward, however uncertain it might seem. The silence in the room felt oppressive, a stark contrast to the tumult raging inside me. Each step felt heavier, every breath a bit more labored as the weight of Hunter's words—and my own actions—pressed down on me. My reflection in the mirror was a grim reminder of the man I had become, far removed from the leader and father I had strived to be. Dressed now, the emptiness of the house seemed to echo my internal conflict. The rooms were filled with memories of Frida, each one a sharp jab at my conscience. The reality of my situation was unavoidable, starkly illuminated by the daylight streaming through the windows. As I sat down, the loneliness of the mansion enveloped me. I had pushed everyone away, and now I was truly alone, not just physically but emotionally. The recent events were not just a series of unfortunate accidents but a reflection of my choices, my refusal to see what was right in front of me. Hunter’s words haunted me, echoing around the vast, empty spaces. He was right; I was acting irresponsibly, not just as a mate but as a leader. Vanessa, despite everything, didn’t deserve to be a scapegoat for my inability to handle my grief and responsibilities. The realization was bitter, the solution unclear. I needed to confront not just the situation with Vanessa but also my own feelings about Frida's death and what my future as an Alpha should look like. Accepting Vanessa might not be just about fulfilling a duty but about finding a new path forward, one that could potentially bring healing and a new sense of purpose. Perhaps it was time to face the pack, to address the changes and challenges head-on. Maybe it was also time to talk to Vanessa, not as a blameful Alpha but as a man trying to make sense of the chaos within. These were not just steps to mend a broken bond but necessary actions to regain my own sense of self and responsibility. The journey ahead would be difficult, but it was one I had to undertake, for the sake of all those relying on me and for my own peace. Seated at my desk, the glow of the computer screen illuminated the darkness of my thoughts. I couldn't shake the sense of betrayal and resentment that simmered within me. Vanessa, my unexpected mate, now occupied my mind in ways I couldn't fathom or control. As I navigated through the digital realm, the urge to delve into Vanessa's life grew stronger, fueled by a mix of curiosity and bitterness. She had become an enigma, a puzzle I was determined to solve, even if it meant invading her privacy. But amidst my anger and frustration, there lingered a nagging sense of guilt. Guilt for the harshness of my thoughts, for the desire to punish her for actions she may not fully comprehend. Yet, I couldn't shake the feeling that she had orchestrated this situation, trapping me in a web of her making. The age difference between us loomed large, a constant reminder of the chasm that separated our worlds. But even as I tried to push aside the inappropriate thoughts that crept into my mind, I couldn't deny the allure of her presence, the way she had transformed from the girl I once knew into a woman of undeniable beauty. But beneath the surface, a storm raged. I was torn between my duty as an Alpha, my grief over Frida's passing, and the tumultuous emotions stirred by Vanessa's presence. She had crossed a line, a line I wasn't sure I could forgive or forget. As I grappled with these conflicting emotions, one question burned brighter than all the rest: Why? Why had she chosen to betray her friendship with my children, her bond with Frida, by succumbing to the tangled mess of desire and desperation that now engulfed us both?