Chapter 184

Chapter 189
Natalie POV


I was so lost in my thoughts that I didn't notice Mom approach until she was beside me, her footsteps silent on the grass, a skill she'd perfected over decades.

"Are you all right, sweetie?" she asked softly, her voice barely audible above the murmur of conversations around us.

"No," I admitted without hesitation, my gaze still fixed on the darkening treeline.

"You've barely touched your food," she observed, nodding toward my full plate, the mashed potatoes formed into an untouched mound. "And you keep staring at the forest. Jackson told me what happened at the border village."

I sighed, feeling my shoulders slump, the weight of the day settling into my bones. "Of course he did." A strand of hair fell across my face, and I tucked it behind my ear with fingers that felt unnaturally heavy.

"Your emotions are all over the place," Mom said, her voice gentle but knowing. "I can feel them." Her eyes—so like mine—searched my face, reading the nuances of my expression as only she could.

"Coming back was the right decision," I stated firmly, though the words felt rehearsed even to my own ears, hollow and brittle like autumn leaves.

"I'm not worried about that," she replied, shifting slightly to stand in my line of sight, blocking my view of the forest. "I'm worried about the mate you left behind."

The simple truth of her words made my chest ache, a physical pain that radiated outward. I pressed my lips together to keep them from trembling. "He can't leave his pack," I explained, forcing my voice to remain steady, though it wanted to crack like thin ice. "And I can't abandon my responsibilities."

Mom studied me carefully, her gaze lingering on the shadows beneath my eyes, the tension in my jaw. "Natalie, you fell in love with him quickly."

"I did," I admitted, the confession leaving me in a soft exhale. "But it doesn't matter. I have Jackson here. And I'm going to give Blaise a chance since he's here." My fingers tightened around my fork, the metal cold against my skin.

"You and Nathan didn't reject each other, did you?" Mom asked perceptively, her voice softening further.

I shook my head, blinking back unexpected tears that stung my eyes like smoke. "No. I left in the middle of the night. And..." I swallowed hard, tasting the bitter truth. "I'll go back when he's ready to reject me."

"Natalie—" Her hand reached for mine, cool fingers brushing my wrist.

"Please let me handle this my way, Mom," I interrupted, my voice cracking slightly, betraying the depth of my emotion. "Please." The word came out more plea than demand.

She nodded slowly, her eyes never leaving mine. "Of course. Whatever you need, I'm here." She squeezed my hand once before letting go, the gesture speaking volumes in its simplicity.

From where I stood, I could see Jackson helping organize the camp, his tall frame moving efficiently between the tents. His movements were precise but distracted, his shoulders tight with tension, his eyes occasionally darting toward where I stood with my mother.

I could tell he was struggling with what I'd told him about Nathan, his body language broadcasting his discomfort as clearly as if he'd shouted it. And I couldn't blame him.

I knew Jackson was mine in a way that surpassed normal relationships, and I was his. The mate bond tied us together with invisible threads that pulsed with each heartbeat. But I was also Nathan's. And Nathan was mine. The complexity of it all made my head spin, like trying to follow too many conversation threads at once. Jackson needed time to process this, and I would give him that. He deserved it.

For now, I needed to focus on getting back to my routine, filling the emptiness Nathan had left. The hollow ache in my chest wouldn't go away—I knew that—but perhaps I could learn to carry it. I would give Blaise a chance too—he had been under a spell, after all, his mind not his own. And I would try to control the devastating emptiness that came from not having Nathan nearby, an absence that felt like a physical wound, raw and throbbing with each breath.

After helping clean up from dinner, my hands slightly reddened from the hot water, I returned to the castle and headed straight to my room.

The full moon hung massive in the night sky, a perfect silver disk that bathed the grounds in ethereal light, casting long shadows across the manicured lawns.

I wondered if Nathan was looking at it too, perhaps thinking of me as I was thinking of him, his face lifted to the same moon, separated by miles but united by shared heavens.

"Hi," a quiet voice broke into my thoughts, startling me slightly.

I turned to see Blaise standing in the doorway, watching me cautiously, his tall frame silhouetted against the hallway light. He'd changed into more casual clothes, a simple t-shirt and jeans, his hair slightly damp as if he'd recently showered.

"Hi," I replied, my voice equally soft, curling my fingers more tightly around my cup.

"Are you okay?" he asked, stepping into the room, his footfalls nearly silent on the thick carpet.

"Yeah. Just trying to readjust, I guess." I shifted under the blanket, tucking one leg beneath me.

He moved closer, sitting on the bed, the moonlight casting half his face in shadow. "You helped make dinner. That surprised a lot of people."

I shrugged, feeling the fabric of my sweater slide against my skin. "It seemed like the right thing to do."

"Did you do that in the border village too? Help with meals?" His question was careful, probing but not invasive.

"Yes," I answered, a faint smile touching my lips. "I didn't want to be useless. I helped them with everything." My voice grew softer, tinged with nostalgia for something I'd only just left behind.

Blaise studied me, his gaze thoughtful, one finger tapping slowly against the armrest. "You adapted to their culture," he observed. "That explains why you seem a little... down since coming home."

"I'm not down," I protested weakly, the lie transparent even to my own ears. "I just can't stop thinking about them. I need time."

Before Blaise could respond, a movement in the doorway caught my attention. Jackson appeared, his broad shoulders filling the frame, his expression solemn in the moonlight. His eyes found mine immediately, their intensity unchanged despite the shadows playing across his features.

"I'll give you time," he said simply, his deep voice resonating in the quiet room.

"Really?" I couldn't hide my surprise, my eyebrows lifting, coffee forgotten in my hands.

He stepped forward, his shoulders squared, his footsteps deliberate on the carpet. "I'm sorry about earlier. I was just shocked that you had another mate."

He ran a hand through his hair, the gesture betraying his nervousness despite his controlled tone. "I needed to process it. But I want you to know that I'll give you whatever space you need. I'll always be here, supporting you."

Jackson knelt in front of my bed, his eyes level with mine now, close enough that I could see the flecks of gold in his irises caught by the moonlight. I set my coffee aside, the cup making a soft clink against the nightstand, and leaned forward, wrapping my arms around him and burying my face in the crook of his neck. His familiar scent washed over me—pine and something distinctly his—comforting in its steadiness, in its unchanging nature.

"Thank you," I whispered against his skin, feeling his pulse beneath my lips.