Chapter 21: Ties That hold

Chapter 21: Ties That hold
Eva's POV

The moonlight spilled across the bed like a silver promise, but none of it reached me.

I sat up slowly, every movement reminding me of the poison still lurking in my veins. My limbs were sluggish, my skin clammy, and my heart—fractured between logic and fear—beat unevenly in my chest. The scent of tea still lingered on my tongue, even though I hadn’t touched a drop. It was like the betrayal refused to wash off.

And still, I could feel him there.

Trent.

Pacing near the door like a silent storm, caught between wanting to wrap me in his arms and waiting for me to give him permission.

“Say something,” he murmured finally, voice low and raw, as if the silence was crushing him.

I stared at the wall, trying to gather the words tangled in my throat. Then I spoke.

“I want to leave.”

The words cracked through the air like lightning.

He froze.

“Eva—”

“No.” I cut in, sharper than I meant, but I couldn’t stop the surge. “Don’t talk yet. Let me say this first.”

He stepped closer. I held up a trembling hand.

“Someone tried to kill me in your pack, Trent. Your pack. Under your roof.”

His shoulders sagged.

“I know,” he rasped. “And I failed—”

“Yes. You did.”

He flinched like I’d struck him, but I wasn’t done.

“I don’t feel safe here,” I continued, forcing my voice to stay steady. “I don’t know who to trust. The smiles, the words, the tea—it’s all tainted now. Everything feels like a lie.”

“But not me.” His voice was hoarse. “Please… tell me it’s not me.”

I stared at him, studying every inch of his face. The storm in his eyes, the tension in his jaw, the guilt in the slump of his shoulders.

“I would never hurt you, Eva,” he said. “I’d burn this whole pack to the ground before I let anyone touch a single hair on your head.”

“Then how did they get so close?”

He didn’t answer.

Didn’t need to.

The silence said it all.

He crossed the room slowly, deliberately, as if afraid I’d vanish if he moved too fast. Then he knelt beside the bed, head bowed like he was seeking forgiveness.

“Because I trusted people I shouldn’t have,” he admitted. “Because I thought loyalty was enough. And because I didn’t listen to the gut that screamed something was off.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat.

His eyes rose to meet mine. “But I’m listening now. I hear it, Eva. I hear you.”

“I was scared,” I whispered. “Not just of Myra… but of what it meant.”

His brows drew together. “What do you mean?”

“That maybe I don’t belong here.”

He inhaled sharply, like my words had cut deeper than the poison ever could.

I looked down at my hands, still trembling. “What if I’m just a problem this pack doesn’t want to solve? An outsider. A threat. A target.”

“You’re not a target,” he said firmly. “You’re the heart of this place. They just don’t see it yet.”

I gave a hollow laugh. “Kiara sees it. That’s why she wants me gone.”

He didn’t deny it.

And that silence was louder than anything he could’ve said.

“I don’t understand,” I said after a moment. “Why does everyone either pity me or want me out of the way?”

“Because you’re more than what they expected,” he said. “You’re not weak. You don’t break. That threatens people who’ve built power on others being beneath them.”

“Like Rachel?”

His jaw clenched. “Exactly like Rachel.”

I exhaled shakily.

“You weren’t the one who poisoned me,” I said, voice softening. “But you feel like you were.”

His voice was barely audible. “Because I’m your mate. Your Alpha. It was my job to protect you.”

“And you did. In the end.”

He lifted my hand carefully, like I might shatter, and pressed it to his chest. I could feel the steady, strong beat of his heart.

“No more ends, Eva. No more almosts. I want to get it right—now.”

“I don’t want to live in fear, Trent.”

“You won’t.” His grip tightened, like he could will the promise into existence. “I’ll tear the truth from every wall in this place until the air is clean again. I swear it.”

I searched his face for any trace of deception, but all I saw was raw honesty. He wasn’t saying it to sound noble. He meant it.

“I believe you,” I whispered.

He let out a shaky breath, like he’d been holding it since the moment I said I wanted to leave.

“But I need you to show me,” I added. “Words aren’t enough anymore.”

“I will,” he promised. “I’ll start with Myra. With Kiara. Anyone who looked at you sideways—I’ll find out what they know.”

“And Rachel?”

His expression darkened like a gathering storm. “She’s at the center of all of this. Her hands are stained with more than just spite. She wants this pack—and she wants you gone.”

“Why?”

“Because you threaten everything she’s built. The lies. The illusions. The control. You’re a living reminder that she lost.”

I stared at him. “What if she didn’t act alone?”

He didn’t hesitate. “Then I’ll find her accomplices too. One by one. I don’t care if it’s a Beta or a kitchen maid—I will not rest until every hand that reached for you in the dark is broken.”

A part of me wanted to believe that was just Alpha bravado.

But deep down, I knew he meant every word.

I leaned back against the headboard, letting the silence settle between us.

“What happens next?” I asked finally.

He stood slowly. “First… you rest. That poison needs time to clear from your system.”

“And then?”

He looked me dead in the eye.

“I protect you. With my life if I have to.”

My heart thudded.

I nodded slowly. “I’m staying.”

His body stilled.

“You are?”

I nodded again. “But not because I feel safe in this pack. Not yet. I’m staying because you make me feel safe. Because I trust you.”

His breath hitched, and for a moment, he looked like he didn’t know whether to smile or fall apart.

I reached for his hand. “Don’t make me regret that.”

“You won’t,” he vowed, squeezing my fingers gently.

Then he bent forward, pressing a kiss to my knuckles like I was something sacred.

“Then we do this together,” I said. “We rebuild what they tried to shatter.”

He smiled—a tired, war-worn smile, but it reached his eyes.

“I’ll question Kiara first thing in the morning.”

“She’s dangerous, Trent. Don’t let her sweet talk you.”

“I won’t,” he said grimly. “I see her now. And I won’t blink again.”

I yawned then, the exhaustion dragging me under like a rising tide.

Trent stood to leave, but I panicked.

“Wait.”

He paused at the door, eyes instantly alert.

“Stay?” I asked.

His gaze softened. He crossed the room again and settled into the chair beside me.

“I’m not going anywhere, Eva. Not tonight. Not ever again.”

He reached out and took my hand in his, fingers warm and solid.

\---

Later that night…

The room was quiet except for the soft rustle of wind outside and the rhythm of my own breath. I stirred from sleep, eyelids heavy, mind still fuzzy from whatever had been in that tea.

But I felt it—his presence. Not just near, but vigilant.

Trent’s hand still held mine.

He hadn’t moved.

But his other hand was gripped tight around the armrest, his knuckles white with pressure. His body was rigid, his eyes locked on the door like it might come alive and attack.

He was watching. Guarding.

Protecting.

And I realized something then—something terrifying and beautiful all at once.

I wasn’t just safe with him.

I was home.