His eyes burned as he watched the woman in front of him. He’d never felt hate like he felt at this moment for her, it was as though he was finally seeing her for who she truly was, and equally, he hated it.
She was not anywhere near the woman he thought her to be. Before now, he would’ve sworn Amelia wouldn’t hurt anyone. One of Callan’s most prominent memories, when it came to her, was going riding with her and they’d found a badly injured rogue, the man had been bleeding to death but Amelia had begged him with tears in her eyes to save him so against his better judgment, he'd taken the rogue back to his pack but he’d died even before they got to the infirmary. Callan had spent the next few days comforting Amelia.
Where had that person gone? The Amelia who could never stand for another’s pain? He’d never really been able to bring himself to love her but his feelings for her were on a certain level that told him he could have her as his Luna and he would’ve been able to live with that.
But not anymore, not when she’d done what she had.
Not when disgust surged through him at the mere sight of her.
Not when he was fighting against himself not to wring her neck and watch her drop dead. His thoughts didn't terrify him, he would kill her if he had his way.
“I can't believe you, Callan. How could you think something so despicable of me? How could you accuse me so blatantly of this?” tears ran down her eyes. She looked disheveled, her composure ruined as she paced back and forth his study, her voice breaking every time she spoke.
He remained rigid. He knew she was lying, he could see it clearly in her actions, in the way she subtly pinched the skin covering her fingers, the way she swallowed, her wide eyes set on him.
He knew Amelia better than anyone else and he knew more than anything that right now she was lying to him and he despised it. He despised dishonesty with every fiber of his being and coming from someone he'd held so highly hurts with just as much passion as his hate.
“You reached depths I could never forgive you for.” His tone, in stark contrast to hers, was calm, almost dangerously so.
She ran a frustrated hand through her hair, brown, thick strands of it falling over her face. “Why won't you listen to me? Why…” her voice faltered. “I have no reason to do that, it wasn't me. I had no idea, I promise you, Callan.”
He watched as her face contorted as she approached him, franticness in her expression. “Was it Claire? Was she the one who told you this disgusting lie?”
No. Contrarily, Claire hadn't mentioned anyone but herself. She’d said she hated Sophia and wanted her dishonored, completely denying having paid Kai whatsoever but he could see the fear in her eyes, he’d always had that about people’s emotions - he was extremely perceptive. He chose silence most of the time, he could tell when people weren't being true to him but he let it slide believing in his own way he was giving them another chance because he knew better than anyone else how vicious his wrath could be.
Claire was being threatened into silence with something beyond her so much so she was willing to die keeping the identity of the person who was behind her actions a secret but Callan had a strong feeling it was the woman at his feet now, crying and pleading her innocence.
She disgusted him.
“We are beyond this, Callan. You know me better than anyone, you've known me all my life, I am your mate, your future Luna and…”
His words came out cold, unfeeling. “You are not my mate.”
She paused, her bottom lips quivering. “I know that but before anything else, I need you to remember what we had, what we've always had. I've loved you with all of me, it didn't matter to me if you didn't love me half as much, I gave everything to you.” she placed her hand on his knees softly. “I live for you, Callan. It's always been us.”
She let out a small, humorless laugh. “Do you remember how the only person who could get me away from you when we were kids was your mother, do you remember how much I loved her too? What would she say?” she asked in a softer voice, he only heard her because of their proximity. “Do you think she would be happy to know you'd take a mere servant girl’s word over mine?”
His stomach sank at the mention of his mother.
“Don’t,” he said. It was true that his mother had cared for Amelia genuinely, she’d held intense affection for her and it had been reciprocated. Even on her deathbed when she was ailing and her ailment had taken control of her senses so that she barely recognized anyone, her last action was to caress Amelia’s cheeks before the life faded from her whole being.
He had so many reasons to stay true to Amelia, he'd always sworn to it but the one thing Callan had never factored in was the intensity of the mate bond.
He opened his mouth to say something when he felt it - her burning presence. His eyes immediately went toward the door and slowly, Amelia’s gaze followed his.
“What is it?” she asked just as a knock rang out in the room.
She turned to him and then back at the door before once more turning to him, realization on her face before immediately being replaced by distaste.
“Callan,” she started.
He cut her off. “Come in.”
The doors pushed open and Sophia stepped inside, she was still in his clothes and Callan had never found anything that thrilled him more than the sight of her. He got up, aware of the disappointment that flashed in Amelia’s eyes.
Sophia’s eyes move from him to Amelia. “I wanted to discuss something but if you're busy, I could…”
“Are you okay?” he asked, reaching her, his eyes searching hers. Mathias had said she’d be fine once she was awake and even though Kai hadn't done anything with her, he still couldn't be sure she was completely fine.
She was briefly taken aback before she nodded. “Yes, yes, I'm fine. I…” she glanced at Amelia. “What happened?”
He clenched his jaw, grinding his teeth against the other. It was something he did subconsciously now and very frequently because he was almost always stressed these days.
Amelia approached them. “We should be asking you that, you were at the tavern, weren't you? Tell us how you ended up naked next to a stranger. You can't deny that, we all were a witness to the glorious view.”
Blood drained from her face. “What?”
“Get out,” he said to Amelia.
She seemed shocked. “What, Callan—”
“Get the hell out!” he barked, unleashing just a fragment of the anger she caused to course through him.
Without another word, she hurried out of the room but not before he caught sight of the tears that’d welled up in his eyes. It did nothing to him.
Sophia’s eyes were on him, wide with terror. “What did she mean by that?”
And he wanted to take it away, the misery that reflected in her eyes. His heart thumped with emotions that transcended his control, fighting to be let out, scratching and twisting his insides viciously, melding as one with his wolf’s eagerness. It pointed him to her neck, begging to mark her, to make her his, and put to a complete halt all of this fiasco.
He took an involuntary step toward her, they were close enough now, his fingers itched with yearning, and he could reach out a hand and they'd be touching.
“I’m sorry,” came his apology in a low, rough voice. He didn't have a right to touch her, not with everything she’d been subjected to because of him.
She swallowed, saying nothing in response but her eyes held so many words unspoken. Thick tension settled between them, he could almost see it, touch it, taste its astringency. If this was as wrong as a small part of him was insisting, then why in hell did it feel so right? He wanted to remain here, like this in her presence with her watching him as she was right now.
Against that part of him that opposed, one of his arms snaked around her waist and when she placed her palms on his chest, it was all Callan could do not to succumb to deteriorating from how high his heart rate surged, the heat that rushed through him, the way his head swooned.
He’d never felt anything akin to this, so intense… So torturous.
“Callan,” she whispered and he felt his blood still. He could spend the rest of his life just listening to her say his name. “Kiss me.”
And this time, he hesitated, unsure he'd heard right, but the look in her eyes confirmed it. His eyes moved to her lips — her inviting lips — and he did as she said, he’d always been good at listening to instructions after all.
His head dipped and his lips met hers, finally telling him that right here, right now felt better than anything else he'd ever experienced.
Emotions clouded him - she tasted just right, as though he'd lived all of his life simply waiting for this moment.
He loved her.