Chapter 41 – Spiraling Decisions

(Cole’s POV)

The morning light filtered through the cabin window, casting long shadows across the wooden floorboards. I lay on the edge of the bed, staring at the ceiling, muscles tense, heart pounding. Sleep had evaded me, leaving only a fog of regret and the insistent pulse of the bond that now bound me to Ella in ways I could not fully comprehend.

I rolled onto my side, reaching for the whiskey bottle I had left on the nightstand, only to pause mid-motion. The bond thrummed faintly, a whisper of life beneath my skin, delicate but undeniable. My stomach twisted. Her secret—it was not just her strength, her resolve, or her quiet demeanor anymore. Something had shifted in her, and I felt it with every fiber of my being.

The truth pressed on me, heavy and unrelenting. Ella was carrying my child. The awareness hit like a tidal wave, and I could not deny it. My pulse quickened, chest tightening as a mix of guilt, awe, and fear collided inside me. I had been forced into this union, ignored her feelings, indulged in my own desires, and now she bore something I had no right to claim but which belonged, irrevocably, to both of us.

With each passing second, Guilt twisted tighter within me. I had allowed myself to be distracted by Sasha, indulged in my selfishness and obsession. Every thought of her now carried a pang of shame, yet even as the awareness of my failings gnawed at me, I could not completely ignore the pull I still felt toward Sasha. My heart warred with itself. Duty, desire, guilt, and temptation all collided in a storm I could not tame.

And then, of course, came the bond. Its gentle insistence, subtle but persistent, reminded me that this was not just about me, not just about my needs or my indulgences. It also involves the life that Ella now carries. The trust I had violated. The protection I now owed towards her.

I rose from the bed, pacing the room, being restless. My gaze drifted to the window, toward the forest far beyond. The morning air called, crisp and sharp, and I drew in a deep breath, trying to ground myself. I could feel the presence of Ella through the bond, even now, it was still calm but distant. She was carrying on as if nothing had changed, being more focused, composed, but I could sense the guarded layer she had placed between us.

And I hated it.

I hated that I had allowed her to protect herself from me, to shield herself from my mistakes, and to carry this burden without my acknowledgment. I felt powerless, a feeling I had spent years avoiding, I have always tried controlling every aspect of my life, every move of the pack, every emotion I thought I could bend. And now, with the bond pulsing insistently beneath my skin, I realized I had no control at all.

A sudden ping from my communicator jolted me from my thoughts. A message from Sasha. My pulse hitched despite myself. “Morning, Cole. Can we talk? It’s very important.”

A wave of temptation washed over me, and I clenched my jaw. Her timing was a deliberate act, calculated, and infuriating. She knew I was spiraling, that the events of the past days and weeks had left me feeling vulnerable. And she was exploiting on that.

I shook my head, trying to push the thought away. I refuse to indulge her—not now. Not when Ella was… carrying my child. Yet even as I thought of this, the memory of Sasha’s whispered words still lingered on, her subtle manipulations, and the pull of her presence teased at my resolve.

I paced again, gripping the edge of the dresser. I wanted to call her, to tell her to leave me alone, yet part of me, a stubborn, prideful, weak part of me wanted to hear her voice, to feel some semblance of comfort, some anchor in the chaos of my own making.

The bond thrummed sharply, cutting through the fog of temptation like a beacon. My attention snapped back to her. The pull was insistent, unyielding, reminding me that my actions carried consequences along with it, that my indulgences could hurt her, that I had a responsibility I could not escape from.

I ran my hands through my hair, frustration and guilt tightening around me like a vice. I had allowed myself to be pulled in two different directions—duty and desire—and neither path felt safe. Sasha’s whispers in my mind clashed with the bond’s subtle insistence, and I realized I was teetering on a precipice I could not afford to fall from.

I could imagine her now, in the cabin or perhaps in the yard, calm, poised, her sketchbook in her hand. Her being all focus, her quiet strength, and the subtle hints of life within her teased at my senses. I felt the tug of protectiveness pulling within me, of guilt, and a rising awareness of the mistakes I had made. And yet, I could not completely quell the memory of Sasha’s soft touch, her cunning smile, the way she knew just how to manipulate my weaknesses.

I exhaled sharply, grounding myself. I had to act. I could not continue to allow myself spiral, caught between guilt, desire, and fear. The bond demanded my attention. The life within Ella demanded my protection. And Sasha… she was a distraction I could not indulge without causing irreparable damage.

I moved toward the door, pacing each step with care. I would confront Sasha. Not in indulgence, not in temptation, but with the clarity of purpose that I had so long ignored. I needed to set boundaries, assert what was real, and protect what mattered. And then, I would confront Ella, if she allowed it, to navigate the path forward together.

Even as I made this decision, uncertainty clawed at me. Every choice felt perilous. Every word I might speak to Sasha could ignite flames I could not control. Every approach toward Ella could shatter the fragile trust she had placed in me, even unknowingly. And yet, I could not do nothing. The bond, the life, the responsibility—it demanded action.

I paused at the edge of the cabin, staring out into the forest. The wind whispered through the trees, carrying a sense of inevitability I could no longer ignore. I had been careless, indulgent, and prideful. I had allowed temptation and past desires to cloud my judgment. But now… now there was no excuse. The bond pulsed steadily, a reminder of what was real, of what mattered, of what I must protect.

With a final, steadying breath, I made my choice. I would face Sasha, confront her manipulations, and reclaim the focus I had lost. And I would face Ella, carefully, respectfully, and with the understanding that this was no longer about control or desire, but about responsibility, protection, and the fragile life that now tied us together.

The first step would be the hardest. But I could not falter. Not now. Not when everything I had ignored, everything I had neglected, everything I had taken for granted, was demanding that I rise and meet it head-on.

I tightened my fists, jaw set, and stepped out of the cabin, letting the morning air fill my lungs. The bond throbbed, insistent, alive, and I realized—fear, guilt, and desire aside—I could no longer run from what was coming.

I would confront Sasha head-on. I would face Ella. And I would finally confront the chaos I had created, no matter how dangerous, no matter how tangled, and no matter how much it might cost me.