Chapter Three

I don't remember how far I ran.

All I remember is the crushing weight of betrayal, the feeling of my heart being ripped from my chest as Dimitri spoke those words — words that shattered everything I had held onto for the past 2 years.

“I had to accept her as my mate.” 

He accepted her? 

Then why didn't he tell me? 

Why did I have to wait for 2 years for nothing?

Why did he make me hope for nothing for 2 years? 

Why did I have to believe that no matter what, Dimitri would come for me? 

Dammit!

But when I returned, all I found was a man who had moved on. A man who had chosen duty over love.

Heaven knows I should have expected it. I should've known.

But that didn't stop the pain from clawing its way through my soul, leaving me hollow.

So I had to run.

I ran from the pack, from the land that no longer felt like home.

I ran back to the human world, back to the life I had barely lived or the place I'd ever known. 

But even there, the pain followed me, wrapping around me like a second skin.

I wanted to forget the pain.

I needed to forget.

So that night, I gave in to the one thing I'd avoided for a long while.

Alcohol.

Club Soda was dimly lit, filled with the scent of alcohol and lost souls searching for temporary relief.

The music was so loud, vibrating through my bones, but it still wasn't enough to silence the storm brewing in my head. 

I sat at the counter, my fingers nuzzling a glass of whiskey. It was my fourth glass. Each sip, sending a burn to my chest, while erasing the ache that's hollowed itself there. 

“One more.” I murmured to the bartender, sliding the empty glass towards him.

She gave me a look — one that screamed Are you sure? But I didn't care.

I wanted to feel nothing.

As I downed another drink, I felt the weight of someone's gaze on me. 

Slowly, I turned my head and my vision blurred.

Shit.

The alcohol was already fogging my mind.

There was a man seated a few seats away from me.

He was the total package.

Tall.

Broad shouldered. 

With crystal-blue eyes seemed to pierce through the haze I was drowning in.

He wasn't just looking at me. He was studying me.

For a moment, neither of us spoke.

Then he lifted his glass in silent acknowledgement, a ghost of a smirk playing at his lips.

Maybe it was the alcohol.

Maybe it was the desperation gnawing at my soul. 

But I was intoxicated.

And I was stupid.

I moved and didn't stop till I reached him.

His fingers brushed against mine and I didn't stop him.

Wasn't wise to.

I also didn't pull back when he leaned in. 

“You running from something, sweetheart?” he asked.

A bitter laugh escaped my throat. A sound I had no idea whether it is mine or not. “Aren't we all?”

The stranger didn't stop any further. He just nodded as if he understood.

And then…

I let myself forget.

I let him make me forget.

And the next thing I knew, his lips were one mine and the world behind me disappeared.

He rested his head on my shoulder and I put my arms around him.  

He stared at me and I did, him. Then, I leaned in, slow, hesitant.

His breath fanned against my lips, his body so close I could feel the warmth radiating from his skin. The urge to kiss him—to taste him, to lose myself in him—pounded through me, but I was scared. Scared that if I did, I wouldn’t be able to stop.

My fingers curled into fists at my sides. All he had to do was move away, put the space between us, and I would let her go. But he didn’t. Instead, he stayed.

“I want to kiss you so badly,” he admitted, his voice raw. “But if I do, I won’t be able to stop.”

Silence stretched between us, thick with unspoken words, unspoken fears. Then, he reached up and brushed my fingers over my jaw.

“Then don’t stop,” I whispered. “Kiss me.”

He exhaled sharply and I could feel his control shattering.

And then I did.

Our mouths met in a slow, aching kiss, the kind that burned deep, that left no room for doubt. 

I melted into him, my hands sliding into his hair, and I drank him in like I’d been dying of thirst.

If this was a mistake, it was one I was willing to make.

Because right now, there was nothing else.

Just him. Just us.

  

A quiet voice in my head screamed at me that this was wrong but another voice told me that this was what I wanted.

And I wholly chose the latter because at that moment, I didn't care. 

 

What I needed that the moment was to feel anything other than heartbreak so I gave myself to the stranger in the dark.

When I came to the next morning, the bed was cold.

The only thing left behind was a lingering scent that disappeared as quickly as it came. 

And I remembered nothing. 

Not his face.

Or even his name.

Heck, I couldn't even remember the way his voice sounded. 

I should feel regret but all I felt was emptiness. 

Weeks passed and I threw myself into work in the human world. I was desperate to pretend that that night never happened.

But something was wrong.

Very wrong.

At first, I ignored it.

The nausea, the exhaustion, the way my body ached in ways it had never happened before.

I blamed it on stress.

I told myself it was a lack of sleep.

Maybe, it was everything except the truth that I didn't want to admit. 

But as the days passed, the symptoms grew worse.

I could barely eat. 

The smallest aromas made my stomach churn. 

My body felt very different.

I lied to myself over and over but then — 

And then it hit me.

No. 

No, it couldn't be. 

I counted the days in my head, my fingers trembling.

My breath nearly stopped when I realized it had been weeks since I'd been on my period. 

Panic clawed at my throat. 

No. No way! It had to be a mistake. Surely, it had to be but I had to be sure first.

So I dragged my exhausted self to the hospital, sitting in a cold, sterile room, my hands clenched into fists on my lap.

The doctor looked at me with kind green eyes as he set down the clipboard.

“Congratulations, Miss Aurelia. You're pregnant.”

The entire room spunned.

Pregnant.

Those words echoed through me, sinking into my bones.

This couldn't happen.

I wasn't ready.

Tears burned my eyes as I pressed a trembling hand against my stomach.

How could I possibly love this child when every part of me was still broken? 

How could I possibly raise this child?

How the hell was I going to do?