Chapter 59 Hurtful Truth II

Chapter 59 Hurtful Truth II
Bambi's POV

I closed the door slowly after Dawn left.
My fingers stayed on the knob for a full minute, like holding it tighter would somehow make my mind stop spinning.

It didn't.

The moment I let go, everything inside me just… collapsed.

I walked to my bed, sat down, and stared at the wall. No thoughts. No breath. Just this heavy feeling in my chest like a rock was sitting on my lungs.

My hands were shaking again.

"I'm calm," I whispered.

But I wasn't.

Not even a little.

I pulled my knees to my chest and rested my forehead on them. My breathing came out too fast. Too loud. My heartbeat wasn't soft anymore. It was sharp and panicked, like it didn't know where it belonged inside my body.

My wolf tried speaking.

"Bambi… breathe…"

"I'm trying," I whispered, squeezing my eyes shut. "I'm trying, but I—after everything—Dawn—Odessa—"

My voice cracked.

I hugged myself tighter.

The room felt too small.
The air felt too thin.
I felt like I was shrinking inside myself.

I tried standing up once but my legs felt weak, like they didn't trust me either.

So I stayed there. Small. Folded. Quiet.

Minutes passed. Maybe more. It was hard to tell.

At some point, I laid back on the bed and stared at the wooden ceiling. There were so many knots in the wood. I focused on one of them. A tiny one. No bigger than my thumb.

I forced myself to breathe in.
Then out.

Again.

Again.

Again.

But every calm breath only brought back more thoughts.

What was Dawn hiding?
What was he not saying?
Why did he look angry at Odessa but also upset at me?
Why did his eyes soften when I cried?
Why did he always look like he wanted to protect me?
Why did he feel like danger and safety at the same time?

Why did all of it feel like too much?

I rolled onto my side and pressed my face into my pillow.

"Just stop thinking," I whispered into the fabric.

But my mind didn't stop.

Because the bond kept pulling.
Tugging.
Connecting things that shouldn't be connected.

My chest tightened again.

"You're spiraling."

"I know," I whispered back. "I just… I don't know how to stop."

I rubbed my face. My eyes were burning. My throat hurt. My whole body felt like it had run a marathon even though I hadn't moved much.

Then—

A loud knock made me jump.

I sat up quickly. My heart leaped. Panic shot through me like a jolt.

"Bambi?"

Sable's voice.

I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding.

I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand.
Stood up slowly.
Walked to the door.

When I opened it, Sable stared at me with a frown.

"You look like you drowned," she said bluntly.

I sighed. "Thanks."

"I mean it in a friendly way."

"Thanks," I repeated.

She stepped inside without waiting for permission and shut the door.

"What happened? I felt your anxiety from down the hall."

"You did?"

She nodded. "You're not exactly subtle."

I sat back on my bed. Sable stayed near the door first, arms crossed, eyebrows raised like she was inspecting me.

"Well?" she asked.

I sighed again. "Dawn came earlier."

"Oh." Her eyes widened a little. "And?"

"And nothing. He asked what was wrong. I told him I wasn't okay. He stayed for a bit. Then left."

"That's it?"

"That's it."

She walked over and sat next to me. "Then why do you look like you're about to pass out?"

I didn't respond at first. I just stared at my fingers.

Sable nudged me. "Bambi."

I swallowed. "I think I'm scared."

"Of Dawn?" she asked softly.

"I don't know," I whispered. "Yes. No. Maybe. It's not just him. It's everything."

"Explain."

"I feel like I'm walking on a thin rope and if I fall, everything will break. My head. My emotions. The bond. Him. Me. Odessa's warning keeps replaying. Dawn's eyes keep replaying. I don't know what to believe. I don't know who to trust. I feel like I'm losing myself."

Sable didn't speak for a moment.

Then she took my hand.

"You're overwhelmed. That's normal. You're absorbing too much too fast."

"I feel like I'm drowning."

"I know."

I let my head fall against her shoulder. "I wish everything would just stop for a minute."

"Unfortunately, that's not how life works," she said. "Especially pack life. Especially mate-related life."

I groaned into her sleeve. "That's not helping."

"It's not supposed to. It's supposed to make you accept that you'll need to pace yourself."

I pulled away and wiped my face again. "I don't even know how to do that."

"Then learn," she said. "Slowly. Start with your breathing. Then your thoughts. Then your decisions."

I sighed. "I tried the breathing part. It didn't work."

"It doesn't work when you're by yourself. Your mind is too loud."

She tapped my forehead lightly.

"Too many thoughts banging inside here."

"I know."

"And you're scared of Dawn."

I froze. "I didn't say that."

"You didn't have to. I saw your face."

"Okay, maybe I'm… intimidated."

"Same thing."

"It's not."

She raised her brow. "Then what is it exactly?"

I sighed loudly. "I don't know."

Sable stared at me for a long time. Then she grabbed my shoulders.

"Bambi. Listen. Dawn is… complicated. But he's not bad."

"I didn't say he was bad."

"You're acting like he might be."

"I just… don't understand him."

"No one understands him."

"Well, that makes me feel great."

She snorted. "You'll be fine. You're just mentally fried."

"That's an understatement."

Sable stood up suddenly. "I know what you need."

I blinked. "Peace? Sleep? A cave to hide in?"

"No. A distraction."

"What kind of distraction?"

"Food."

I frowned. "Sable—"

"No arguing. You're coming to the dining hall."

I shook my head quickly. "No. Too many people. Too much noise. Too many eyes. I can't handle that right now."

Sable studied me again. Then nodded slowly.

"Okay. Not the dining hall."

She walked toward the door.

"I'll bring food here. Stay put."

Before I could respond, she left.

I sat there alone again.

But this time, the room didn't feel as tight. My chest didn't feel as heavy. The silence didn't crush me as much.

I laid back on the bed again and stared at the ceiling.

The knot in the wood still looked the same.

But I didn't feel like I was drowning anymore.

Just floating. Barely. But floating.

After a few minutes, my wolf whispered again.

"Bambi?"

"Mm?"

"Are you going to be okay?"

I exhaled softly.

"I don't know," I whispered. "But… maybe."

My wolf hummed quietly in my head.

"Good. That's enough for now."

I closed my eyes.

Not to sleep.
Just to breathe.

A slow breath.
Then another.
Then another.

For the first time today… it worked.

Sable returned quicker than I expected.

The door opened with a soft click, and she stepped in carrying a tray piled with food—bread rolls, fruits, and a bowl of something that smelled warm and comforting.

She set it down on my table. "Eat."

I stayed sitting on the bed, knees pulled to my chest again.

She looked at me. "Bambi. I said eat."

"Where did you get this from?"

"I don't know. I said it was for Bambi, the Alpha's breeding mate and they gave me immediately."

I eyed her.

"I'm not hungry."

"You haven't eaten since morning."

"I'm still not hungry."

Sable stared at me for a few seconds before walking over and gently lowering my legs.

"Sit like a normal person," she said. "I'm not feeding you on your funeral posture."

I sighed but unfolded myself.

She handed me a spoon. "Try. Just one bite."

I took it because arguing felt too tiring. The food tasted better than it looked. Warm. Simple. Not heavy.

Sable watched me like she was waiting for me to pass out.

"It's just soup," I muttered.

"I'm just making sure you don't die."

I rolled my eyes. "I'm fine."

"No, you're not, but you will be." She crossed her arms. "If Dawn didn't scare you earlier, I don't know why you look like you just escaped death."

"Because it's not just him," I said quietly. "It's everything."

"Like what?"

"Odessa. The bond. My wolf. My feelings. My fears. This whole place."

She nodded slowly. "Fair."

"There is something my wolf is not telling me. She tells me to escape Dawn but won't tell me why."

Sable said nothing.

I sighed. "I feel like the more I learn, the less I understand."

"That's how Imperial Pack works," Sable mumbled. "You survive one emotional attack and then another one shows up immediately."

I weakly laughed. "Great."

"Bambi." Her voice softened. "What did Dawn say to you?"

I stared at the soup for a moment. "He wanted me to stay with him tonight."

Sable's eyebrows shot up. "Stay… as in…?"

"No. Not like that," I quickly said. "He said he wants to prove he's not… dangerous."

"Did he say the word dangerous?"

"…Yes."

Sable hummed. "Interesting."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing," she lied.

I frowned. "Sable. Tell me."

She hesitated, then said, "Dawn isn't dangerous to you. He's dangerous to everyone else. That's why Odessa hates you. She wants to control him. You make him lose control."

"That's… not comforting."

"It wasn't meant to be comforting. It's meant to be an explanation."

I dropped the spoon and rubbed my face. "I don't know if I can trust him."

"Then take your time."

"He doesn't like when I take my time."

"Then he needs to learn patience."

I stared at her, surprised.

Sable shrugged. "He may be Alpha, but he's still a man."

"I don't think Dawn sees himself as even that," I muttered.

She snorted. "Because he's dramatic."

I blinked. "What?"

"Have you seen how he walks? Like every step is an announcement."

I actually laughed—soft but real. "Sable—"

"And the way he stares? That 'I am darkness, fear me' expression? Dramatic."

"Sable…"

"And the way he talks? With long pauses like he's narrating a tragic movie? Dramatic."

I shook my head, the tension in me thinning a little. "Please stop before he appears in the doorway right now."

Sable grinned. "If he does, I'll tell him myself."

My smile faded slowly. "He'll be angry."

"Let him be."

"He'll take it out on me."

Sable stiffened. "Does he hurt you?"

"No," I said quickly. "Not like that. I just… he gets intense. Overwhelming."

Sable relaxed a little. "Bambi, intensity isn't the same as harm. And you can tell him to back off."

I hugged my knees lightly. "I do. He doesn't always listen."

"Then say it again."

"I'm afraid to."

"Why?"

"…because he looks sad when I do."

Sable stared at me for a long moment. "Oh no."

"What?"

"You've reached… stage one."

"What stage?"

She sighed dramatically. "The 'I care about his emotions' stage."

I groaned loudly. "Please stop naming stages."

"I have to. It's tradition."

"Sable—"

"You're falling for him."

I froze.

My throat tightened.

"I'm not," I whisper-lied.

Sable gave me the longest, slowest stare.

"If you weren't," she said, "you wouldn't be sitting here shaking because his feelings matter to you."

"I never said they matter."

"You didn't have to."

I looked away. My fingers twisted together in my lap.

She nudged me. "Do you like him?"

"I don't know."

"But you could."

"I don't know."

"Do you want him?"

"I don't know."

"Do you feel something?"

I paused.

My chest tightened again.

"…yes. But I don't know what it is."

Sable softened. "That's enough."

I swallowed. "I feel scared. Because something in me reacts to him. Not just the bond. Something else—something deep. And I don't trust it yet. I don't trust him yet."

"That's all normal."

"It feels anything but normal."

"You're basically a human thrown into a storm. You're allowed to not understand every lightning strike."

I sighed. "Your metaphors are terrible."

"I'm trying."

I laughed again—small, but warm.

Sable leaned back on her hands. "So what will you do? About tonight?"

"I don't know."

"Do you want to go?"

"Some part of me does."

"And the other part?"

"Wants to run."

"Then don't decide yet."

I looked at her. "He's waiting."

"Let him wait."

"He'll think I'm rejecting him."

"And?"

"He'll get upset."

"And?"

"Sable—"

"Bambi, listen." She pulled me gently by the wrist until I faced her directly. "You cannot keep living based on how he'll react. You need to live based on what you can handle."

I fell quiet.

She squeezed my wrist. "If you go to him tonight, go because you want to. Not because he asked. Not because you feel guilty. Not because you're scared to disappoint him."

My chest tightened in a different way—almost grateful.

"What if he gets angry?" I whispered.

"Then he'll get angry." She shrugged. "He won't hurt you. That man is obsessed with you."

"I don't want him obsessed with me."

"Too late."

I groaned into my pillow again.

Sable laughed. "Bambi."

"What?"

"You should eat more soup before you cry into it."

"I'm not going to cry."

"Liar."

"…maybe a little."

She handed me another spoon. "Eat. Then we decide what you want to do."

I ate quietly this time. Sable didn't talk, just sat beside me like a guard dog who refused to leave.

When I finished half the bowl, she took it from me and set it aside.

"Better?" she asked.

"A little."

"Good."

I leaned back on the pillows.

The room felt slightly bigger now. My thoughts slightly slower. My breath slightly easier.

Sable stood. "I'm not leaving you alone tonight."

"You don't have to—"

"I'm not asking."

I smiled weakly. "Thank you."

She winked. "I know."

I closed my eyes for a moment.

Not to sleep. Just to exist.

Then Sable spoke quietly.

"Bambi?"

"Hmm?"

"No matter what you choose… Dawn can wait."

I breathed out slowly.

Maybe for the first time today, the thought didn't send panic through me.

"Yeah," I whispered. "Maybe he can."

And for now… that was enough.