Chapter 58

ALPHA KING ARLO

The darkness before dawn found me already awake, staring at the ceiling as the date echoed in my mind. Five years. Five years since Odessa had been taken from this world. The knowledge sat like a stone in my chest, making each breath an effort.

Sleep had abandoned me hours ago. I dressed silently in the dark, choosing simple clothes. Nothing befitting an Alpha King. Today, I wasn't a ruler. Today, I was just a man with ghosts that wouldn't rest.

I moved through the silent mansion like a shadow, avoiding the guards' usual posts. They would report my movements to Victor, who would question where I was going at such an hour. I couldn't bear their concern, their duty-bound vigilance. Not today.

My personal car waited in the garage. The one I rarely drove myself. I slipped behind the wheel, the leather seat cool against my back. The engine's purr was muted, designed not to wake the household as I eased down the long driveway and through the gates.

The city was different at this hour. Stripped of pretence, honest in its emptiness. I drove aimlessly at first, watching the streetlights blur as I passed beneath them. Eventually, I found myself parked outside a small flower shop that was just opening its doors.

"You're out early," the shopkeeper commented, her eyes widening with recognition as I stepped inside. "Alpha King—"

"Just flowers today," I interrupted, not wanting the deference, the careful words. "Calla lilies. White."

She worked quickly, wrapping the blooms in simple paper. Odessa had loved their elegant simplicity, their quiet strength. I paid too much and refused change, then returned to my car with the bouquet resting on the passenger seat where she should have been.

The cemetery gates were unlocked, as if expecting me. Mist hugged the ground, wrapping around headstones and monuments like ghostly fingers. My footsteps crunched on the gravel path as I made my way to her grave, each step heavier than the last.

Her headstone was simple, despite my wealth and power. Odessa Laurent, it read. Beloved. Nothing more. No dates, no platitudes. She would have hated anything elaborate.

I knelt before it, laying the flowers at its base. My fingers traced the engraved letters of her name, catching on the edges as if trying to hold onto something tangible of her.

"Five years," I whispered, my voice strange in the morning stillness. "It feels like yesterday. And a lifetime ago."

A bird called somewhere in the distance, but otherwise, silence reigned. No answer came. It never did.

"Are you truly reborn?" The question burst from me, raw and desperate. "Are you alive somewhere with no memory of me, of us? Or are you gone forever?"

The tears came then, hot and unwelcome. Alpha Kings didn't weep. But here, along with her memory, I wasn't Alpha King Arlo. I was just the man who had failed to protect the woman he loved.

"I'm so sorry, Odessa." My voice cracked, breaking apart like everything else had that night, five years ago. "I'm sorry for hurting you, for not believing you when you needed me most." My hands clenched into fists, knuckles pressing against the cold earth. "I'm sorry for contributing to your death, for being the reason you felt like you had no other choice."

I closed my eyes, seeing her face as it had been—mischievous smile, knowing eyes. The way she'd looked at me as if she could see through every defense I'd built. Her pure love. Her sincerity which I ne er belived until her death.

"If you can hear me, please..." My voice dropped to a whisper. "I need answers. I've searched for you for five years, scouring every corner of the world, hoping against hope." The admission felt like tearing open a wound. "Please, if you're out there, show me a sign. Give me something to hold onto."

But there was only silence. The kind that hollows you out and leaves nothing but echoes.

Eventually, I rose to my feet, legs stiff from kneeling on the cold ground. I stood for a long moment, memorising again the sight of her name carved in stone, before turning away.

I drove for hours after that, no destination in mind. Just movement, as if distance could somehow separate me from grief. Night had fallen by the time I finally returned to the mansion, the building lit up against the darkness.

Everyone in the mansion seemed happy. Even the maids who served us where happy. Everyone was except me.

The front door opened before I could touch it. Calantha stood in the entryway, arms crossed tightly over her chest. Her face was a carefully controlled mask, but anger radiated from her in waves.

"Where have you been?" The question cut through the silence between us. "You've been gone for two days without a word."

Two days?

She must have been stupid not to notice that I was home all through yesterday. Well, except for very early in the morning.

Her eyes searched my face, finding whatever remained of my earlier breakdown.

"Ajax has been asking for you," she continued, her voice softer but no less tense. "What am I supposed to tell him when his father disappears without explanation?"

I stared at her, seeing and not seeing. In that moment, Calantha looked almost like a shadow of what I'd lost. The ghost of Odessa seemed to stand between us, as tangible as the grief that never left me.

Without a word, I walked past her, my shoulder brushing hers as I moved toward the staircase. I couldn't speak, couldn't explain. How could I tell this woman, who had given me an heir and accepted a loveless arrangement, that I was still chasing shadows of my past?

Whether or not I told her, it changed nothing.

Behind me, I heard her sharp intake of breath, felt the weight of her gaze as I ascended the stairs. For a moment, I almost looked back.

Instead, I kept walking, retreating into the solitude that had become both my punishment and my refuge.