Chapter 33 – The Weight of Betrayal

(Cole’s POV)

The first thing I noticed was the smell. Sweet, cloying, sharp with familiarity. Sasha’s perfume clung to my skin like smoke after a fire, impossible to shake. It crawled up my nose, coated my tongue, burned its way into memory.

The second thing was the bond.

Even before I opened my eyes, It throbbed within me. It felt like a steady beat but it wasn’t mine. Ella’s emotions brushed against me—thin, delicate threads of exhaustion and quiet resolve. It was faint, but it was there. Always there. No matter what I did.

I cursed under my breath and rolled onto my side, staring at the ceiling beams of my cabin. The light filtering in through the curtains felt like punishment. My head pounded, the taste of last night’s whiskey still sour in my mouth.

I’d thought drowning myself in Sasha if it would help in loosening the bond. Though her lips, her hands, the familiarity of what we once were, would eclipse the chain tying me to Ella.

But it hadn’t. If anything, it had only made it worse.

I scrubbed a hand over my face, pushing myself upright. My reflection in the cracked mirror across the room sneered back at me—eyes bloodshot, jaw shadowed, a man who is unraveling. What I saw was t the heir of the Silver Claw pack. Not an Alpha in waiting. What I saw was a fool who is shackled by fate and his own weakness.

And the bond is aware of it.

Ella’s presence hadn’t dimmed. If anything, it glowed sharper, clearer. She must’ve woken up already. I could almost taste her quietness, like dew on grass, it felt calm in a way that mocked the storm tearing me apart.

I wanted to rip the feeling away from my chest.

---

By the time I made my way to breakfast, the hall was buzzing with chatter. Wolves moved between long tables, the smell of eggs and venison heavy in the air. My father sat at the head, My mother, his Luna sat beside him, her smile warm as always. Marcus leaned across from them, booming a laugh that echoed through the hall.

And Ella—

She sat between Jasper and Mia, listening as Mia animatedly recounted some story, Jasper smirking into his plate. They flanked her like guards, and she laughed softly, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

She looked… normal. Even Untouched.

But I felt her. Through the bond, she was steady, balanced. And that only twisted the knife deeper.

I dropped into my seat across the room, deliberately being far from her.My father’s gaze flicked toward me, sharp as an ax, but he said nothing. Not yet.

I shoveled food onto my plate even without tasting it, forcing it down as though eating could silence the noise in my head. Ella’s laughter drifted across the hall, they sounded light and soft, and my fork bent under the grip of my hand.

I should have been the one sitting beside her. I Should’ve been me making her laugh, shielding her from the whispers, proving to the pack that the bond wasn’t a curse.

But I couldn’t do any of that. Because every time I looked at her, I remembered Sasha’s lips, and then I feel guilty.

By mid-morning, I was back in the training yard. Sweat plastered my shirt to my back as I traded blows with one of the younger warriors. I struck hard, too hard, my movements sharp but instead of precision, my movement were fueled with anger.

He ducked, slipped under my guard, and swept my legs out from under me.

The world tilted, dirt slamming into my shoulder. Gasps rippled from the circle of onlookers.

The Alpha’s son has been defeated and his on the ground.

I sprang up, rage flooding me, and lunged for him again. This time, My fists connected with flesh but not cleanly. My form was off, sloppy. Another misstep, another whisper:

“He’s losing focus.”

“The bond’s breaking him.”

“Maybe Sasha was right after all…”

The words weren’t loud, but they might as well have been shouted. I could feel their doubt, the edges of their scorn.

And worse, I was in agreement with them.

I stormed out of the yard, my chest heaving. That was when Sasha found me.

She slipped into my path like she’d been waiting for me, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction.

“You’re unraveling,” she said, her smile sharp. “And she’s the reason for that.”

I glared at her, but my voice came out hoarse. “This isn’t helping matters.”

Her hand brushed my arm, feather-light, familiar. “You know it’s help you, even more than you want to admit. Last night—”

“Don’t you go there.” The word snapped sharper than I meant it to. A couple of heads turned nearby.

Sasha only smirked, tilting her head. “You can lie to yourself, Cole. Pretend you don’t need me. But you will came to me. You always do. She’ll never know you the way I do.”

Her words hooked into the rawest part of me.

She wasn’t wrong. But that didn’t make her right, either.

I shoved past her, but her laughter trailed after me like chains.

By the time evening fell, my father summoned me.

He sat in his office, the room smelling of cedar and smoke. When I entered, he didn’t look up.

“Today you were sloppy,” he said, his voice low but dangerous. “The warriors all saw it. The pack saw it. They are beginning to question you, Cole. And when they question you, they question me.”

“I’m fine,” I lied.

Victor’s head snapped up, eyes blazing. “You are not fine. You’re letting this bond tear you apart. Do you understand what that means? A weak Alpha means a weak pack. And I will not allow this pack to falter because you can’t seem to control yourself.”

The words hit harder than any punch I’d taken that day.

I clenched my fists. “You think I asked for any of this? You think I wanted—”

“Do you think I care about what you wanted?” His voice cut me like a blade. “Fate chose this for you. The bond is sacred. You either rise to it or drown beneath it. If you drown, then you’re no son of mine.”

The finality in his tone left no space for argument.

I left his office shaking, rage and shame coiled tight around my chest.

That night, I drank again.

I drank bottle after bottle until the world blurred, until I couldn’t feel the bond burning inside me, couldn’t hear my father’s disappointment, couldn’t remember Sasha’s smirk.

But the thing about whiskey—it dulls edges, but it isn’t able to erase them all.

Ella was still there. Her heartbeat still felt steady against mine, faint but unyielding. The more I tried to drown it out, the louder it seemed to get.

I tipped the bottle back, slurring curses into the dark.

I told myself Sasha was my freedom. That she was the only thing keeping me from completely breaking apart. That Ella was nothing but a mistake.

But when I closed my eyes, all I saw was the girl who laughed softly at breakfast, the one Marcus called “cub,” the one the pack whispered about, both cruel and curious.

And I hated myself for it.

I dropped the bottle, glass shattering against the floorboards.

“I’ll never belong to her,” I muttered into the shadows.

The bond pulsed in my chest, unyielding. Almost mocking my outburst.

Like it knew the truth but I have refused to admit it.

That no matter what I did, no matter how far I fell—

I was already bound.