Chapter 47 BEFORE SHE KNOWS
Jake's POV:
The continuous vibration from my phone jolted me out of my sleep, my eyes squinted against the harsh morning light streaming through the windows, and I groaned, dragging myself upright.
I stared down at the glowing screen and froze. Missed call. Ryan. Not unusual—but then, a text followed. I swiped it open.
“Yo, Jake. Where are you? Class started hours ago. Prof. Asher is already around, and we need to submit the report today. Don’t leave me hanging, man.”
My jaw clenched so hard I thought I’d fracture my own teeth. Just the mention of that bastard’s name was enough to set my blood on fire.
My fingers tightened around the phone, knuckles white, and I hissed through my teeth.
Clara. She was in class. Probably sitting there, listening to that smug, infuriating man's lecture, probably pretending like nothing had happened tonight.
The urge to storm into that classroom, tear through the doors, and disrupt everything - the sheer thought of confronting him, of making him regret even breathing - had my wolf stirring deep inside me, low and restless.
But… no. I didn’t have answers. I barely had control over myself, let alone a plan. Acting now would be rash and stupid.
I slammed the phone down, hard enough for it to bounce. I wasn’t going back to my dorm. Not yet.
Not when my thoughts were tangled up with her, the look in her eyes tonight, there had been something else. Something I couldn’t ignore.
She was scared.
And I couldn’t - wouldn’t - let her be scared of me. Not when I hadn’t had her yet. Not when I hadn’t claimed her. Not when fate itself seemed hell-bent on putting her out of my reach.
“Umm, sir?”
A female's voice cut through the fog in my head.
I looked up slowly, blinking, and found the waitress standing beside the table, hands clasped in front of her apron. She looked tired. Uneasy. Like she’d been debating whether to interrupt me for a while now.
“Don’t you think it’s time you went home?” she asked gently. “It’s already morning. You’ve been here since last night.”
I tore my gaze away from her face and glanced down at the table.
Same suit. Wrinkled. Smelling faintly of sweat and smoke. No shower. No sleep worth mentioning.
She wasn’t wrong.
I had been here since last night.
Because how could I go back?
How could I walk into that dorm knowing I might see her - knowing she might look at me the way she had when she ran? Like I was something dangerous. Something unpredictable.
“I’m fine,” I said quietly, my voice rough from disuse.
She hesitated. “You haven’t touched your drink.”
I stared at the glass in front of me. Amber liquid, perfectly still. Untouched.
“I didn’t order it,” I said. “You can take it away.”
Her brows knit together, confused, but she reached for the glass anyway. As she lifted it, her eyes flicked back to me, concern plain on her face.
“You sure you’re, okay?” she asked.
“You look like you haven’t slept at all.”
I almost laughed.
Instead, I shook my head once. “I just need time.”
She nodded slowly, clearly unconvinced, but she didn’t push. The glass disappeared from the table, her footsteps retreating toward the counter.
And just like that, the noise of the bar faded again.
Silence.
I leaned back into the chair, eyes drifting to the window where early morning light bled through the glass. Pale. Cold. Unforgiving.
My thoughts went right back to her.
To Clara.
To her skin.
Marked - but not to me.
The mark wasn’t supposed to be undone.
That was what we were always told.
Fated bonds were sacred. Permanent.
The will of the Moon herself.
And yet…
My jaw tightened as something old stirred in my memory - something I hadn’t thought about in years.
A story.
Not the kind elders liked to repeat. Not the kind written down. The kind whispered late at night between wolves who knew better than to ask questions too loudly.
There had always been rumors.
Of broken bonds.
Of marks that faded—not because the mate died, but because something else had interfered.
They said it was rare. Dangerous. Almost a taboo.
They said the Moon punished those who tried.
But they also said it had been done before.
I remembered an old Alpha once mentioning it in passing, discreetly, as if even speaking of it might draw attention.
A ritual tied to blood and intent, strong enough to confuse fate itself. To magic older than the packs—older than law.
Not erasing the bond completely.
But severing its claim.
Breaking the pull before the marked one became aware. Before recognition. Before the bond could anchor fully into both souls.
My grip tightened around the armrest.
Timing mattered. That much I remembered clearly.
Once the marked wolf knew—once names were spoken, once the bond was acknowledged - it became irreversible.
Fate locked in. No magic strong enough to touch it after that.
But before?
Before awareness?
Before acceptance?
The mark was still… unstable.
Vulnerable.
The thought sent a slow, dark calm through me, replacing the chaos in my chest with something sharper. Colder. Focused.
There were places that still practiced the old ways. Wolves who dealt in forbidden knowledge. Ritualists who didn’t answer to packs or councils.
They demanded a price, of course.
Magic always did.
I didn’t know what that price would be yet—but I knew one thing with terrifying certainty.
I would pay it.
Because fate had already taken enough from me.
I lifted my phone, staring at my reflection in the surface. Red-eyed. Hollow. Unrecognizable.
“Just a myth,” I muttered under my breath.
The words didn’t convince me.
They just hung there, thin and fragile, like glass already cracked.
My phone was still in my hand. I hadn’t realized I’d picked it up again until my thumb hovered over Ryan’s name, the screen lighting my face in that cold, unforgiving glow.
I could text him.
Keep an eye on Clara.
Let me know if she seems… off.
The thought twisted something ugly in my chest.
Because the truth was—Clara didn’t know. Not yet. She had no idea who she was mated to, no idea what that mark really meant.
And if she found out before I figured this out… before I fixed it—
My jaw tightened.
I couldn’t even finish the thought.
My thumb hovered, hesitating. Asking Ryan to keep tabs on her felt wrong. Invasive. Like crossing a line I’d sworn I never would.
But what choice did I have?
I was running out of time, and fate wasn’t exactly known for mercy.
I locked the phone and dropped it onto the table, leaning back as I dragged a hand down my face.
My head throbbed. My chest felt too tight, like there wasn’t enough air in the room.
I reached inward, instinctively, searching for the familiar presence that had always steadied me.
My wolf.
Normally, he was loud. Reactive. Snarling at threats, pacing beneath my skin, urging me to act—even when Clara had kneed me, even when I’d been humiliated and hurt, he’d still been there.
Restless. Protective. Alive.
But now?
Nothing.
No growl. No heat. No push.
Just silence.
It startled me more than anything else that had happened tonight.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I murmured.
I pressed deeper, calling to him again, and this time I felt it—a distant, muted presence. Not gone. Just… withdrawn.
Curled in on itself like it had decided to step back and watch the mess unfold without getting involved.
Then his voice surfaced, low and tired, echoing faintly in my mind.
“Too bad I don’t.”
I stiffened.
“Don’t what?” I shot back silently.
There was a pause. A heavy one.
“Too bad I don’t care anymore,” he answered flatly.
The words hit harder than I expected.
“You can’t just quit,” I snarled, fingers curled into fists. “Not now.”
“I didn’t quit,” he replied. “I warned you. You chose this. You chose her over balance. Over instinct.”
My throat tightened.
“I love her.” I snapped inwardly.
“She’s someone else’s fate,” he countered quietly. And you felt it the moment you saw the mark.”
I squeezed my eyes shut.
He wasn’t wrong.
That was the worst part.
“I won’t lose her,” I said, my voice barely audible. “Not like this.”
This time, his presence stirred—just enough for me to feel it. Not approval. Not support.
But resignation.
“Then find your answers,” he said.
“But don’t expect me to carry the guilt with you.”
The connection dulled again, retreating into silence.
I opened my eyes slowly, staring at the empty table, at the place where the glass had been moments ago.
For the first time since last night, I felt truly alone.
No wolf.
No certainty.
Just a ticking clock and a girl who didn’t yet know the truth about the mark on her skin—or the war quietly being waged over her fate.
I picked up my phone again, exhaled slowly, and unlocked the screen.
Whether it was crazy or not…
I couldn’t afford to do nothing.