Alpha Roman’s POV
I should be relieved. I should feel victorious. I’ve spent lifetimes preparing for this, for the moment I would finally watch Jacky suffer like she made me suffer. But as I stand here, my knuckles bloodied from the wall I just punched, all I feel is a gaping, hollow ache where my heart used to be. I thought revenge would be satisfying. Instead, it feels like I just ripped my own soul in half.
I let out a guttural roar, a sound ripped straight from my soul.
Jacky.
Her name was a curse and a prayer all at once, something I wanted to erase, yet something I knew would haunt me for the rest of my life. I could still see her-her body slumped against the wall, blood soaking through her clothes, that damned axe buried in her chest. Her breath had been weak, shallow. Too shallow.
I squeezed my eyes shut, my jaw clenching so hard it hurt. I should’ve been relieved. This was what I wanted, wasn’t it?
So why did it feel like I had just ripped my own heart out?
The door creaked open behind me. I didn’t turn.
“Brother…” Valerie’s voice was soft, careful, like she knew I was close to breaking. “Everything will be okay. Jacky will be fine.”
Fine? Jacky was fighting for her life because of me. Because of my plan. Because I had given Malia exactly what she wanted-the chance to end her.
And she had taken it.
If only I’d known Jacky was my mate. That she was the girl behind my mask, the girl I’d thought about for three weeks.
I turned, my movements slow, my body aching from something deeper than any wound. My eyes met Valerie’s, and for the first time in years, I let my walls crack. Just enough for her to see the ruin inside me.
“You know what’s worse about all this?” My voice was low, hoarse. “I planned Jacky’s death. I wanted Malia to take her out. I wanted her gone.”
Valerie’s breath hitched, but she didn’t speak. She didn’t have to.
I took a shaky breath, running a hand through my hair before I let it fall to my side. “Now that it’s done, now that Jacky is bleeding out because of my own damn choices… I feel like I just tore my own heart out.”
My chest ached, the weight unbearable. “Why can’t I just hate her, Val?” My voice cracked, my throat tight. “Why does she have to affect me like this?”
I wanted to hate her. I needed to hate her. But all I could see was the way she had looked at me before she blacked out-like I was the only thing tethering her to this world.
And that terrified me more than anything.
“I’ll check on the doctor treating her, I’ll let you know.” Valerie says, heading back out. I knew what was happening, she was afraid of me. My own sister, scared of what I’d do in the moment of such frustration.
I squeeze my eyes shut, reaching for that familiar darkness inside me the wolf that has been my constant companion in hatred for three centuries. *Where are you?* I demand silently. *Where’s all that rage you’ve carried? All those nights you howled for her blood?*
Silence. For the first time in centuries, my wolf is utterly still.
*You wanted to tear her apart,* I snarl internally, my mental voice cracking. *Every full moon, every time her name was mentioned, you were there ready to rip, to shred, to destroy. And now? NOW you’re quiet?*
My wolf, who has never once hesitated to share in my hatred for Jacky, who growled at the mere thought of her existence, sits broken in the corners of my mind. I can feel him there, his presence so heavy with grief it threatens to bring me to my knees.
“Answer me!” The words tear from my throat, echoing off the walls. But my wolf remains silent, curled around a pain so deep it transcends words. And suddenly, I understand.
My legs give out, and I slide down the wall. A hollow laugh escapes my lips. Three hundred years. Three hundred years of feeding my hatred, of letting it consume me, of telling myself that every ache in my chest was just another reason to destroy her.
But my wolf knows. He’s always known.
This isn’t hatred at all. It never was.
It’s love twisted, broken, bleeding love that never died. It just learned to wear hatred’s face because the truth was too unbearable to admit. Every snarl, every violent urge, every dream of revenge they were just different ways of saying *I miss you. I need you. How could you leave me?*
Jacky’s POV
Pain. That’s the first thing I feel. Not just in my chest, but everywhere. A deep, gnawing pain that stretches beyond my body, beyond this moment. It’s in my bones, in my soul. It’s the kind of pain that doesn’t just hurt-it swallows you whole.
I can’t breathe. Every heartbeat is a slow, agonizing thud, each one fainter than the last. I try to move, but I’m trapped in this numbness, sinking deeper into it.
A voice is calling me. Soft, broken. Valerie.
I can’t see her, but I feel her. “Jacky, please. Please stay with me.”
I want to answer. I want to tell her I’m trying. But my lips won’t move. My body won’t listen.
Then, like a flood, the memories hit me again.
A battlefield, soaked in blood. My hands stained red. Alpha warriors lying dead around me. The sound of Roman’s voice. “What have you done?”
The warmth of a summer afternoon. A soft blanket spread beneath us. Roman laughing as he fed me grapes, kissing the juice from my lips. My fingers tangled in his hair, my heart full in a way I never understood until now.
Our nights together, wrapped in silk sheets, breaths heavy. His hands memorizing every naked inch of me. His voice whispering promises against my skin. Love. Obsession. Devotion.
And then-destruction.
His face twisted in pain. His hands gripping my shoulders, shaking, pleading. “I loved you. I trusted you. Why?”
I don’t know. Even now, I don’t know.
I thought I did. I thought I had reasons, justifications. I thought I was doing what needed to be done. But as the memories stitch themselves back together, all I can see is the wreckage I left behind.
Why did I do it?
Why did I break the heart of the only man who ever truly loved me? Why did I kill all those innocent people?