Chapter 108 The Truth She Buried
Chapter 108 The Truth She Buried
Liora’s POV
The moment the door opened and I saw Jaxon standing there, I knew this wasn’t a casual visit.
His scent hit me first — not the warm, steady scent I’d known for years, but something sharper, edged with anger and a wounded note underneath it that made my stomach drop before he’d said a word.
My fingers tightened around the door handle. “Jaxon. What are you doing here?”
His eyes searched my face like he was looking for something that had been stolen from him. “We need to talk.”
The words were heavy.
I stepped aside. “Come in.”
He didn’t hesitate. The door closed behind him with a quiet click that seemed to echo through the cottage far longer than it should have.
For a moment, neither of us spoke. Jaxon stood near the center of the room, shoulders tight, hands flexing at his sides like he was fighting the urge to break something.
I moved toward the table and poured another glass of wine I had no intention of drinking — something to do with my hands, a beat to buy myself before whatever this was started.
“You’re out late,” I said lightly. “I thought the pack meeting would still be going.”
His eyes snapped to me. “Don’t.”
The single word made me pause.
“Don’t pretend this is normal.”
I sighed and set the glass down. “What exactly are you here for, Jaxon?”
He took two steps toward me. “The pregnancy.”
The word hung between us, cold enough that I felt it in my chest before I felt it anywhere else.
My fingers drifted to my stomach and I hated that he caught it. His jaw clenched.
“We were together that morning,” he said quietly. My heart skipped. “You remember don't you Liora. Before everything happened with Kier.”
Of course I remembered. That morning had been reckless, dangerous, and — God help me — necessary. Just like any other time we were together.
He took another step closer. “You know there’s a strong chance that baby is mine.”
I straightened my spine. “No.” The word came out sharp, immediate, certain in a way I’d practiced. “This is Kier’s child.”
He stared at me like he was waiting for the lie to crack under its own weight. “Liora. Just tell me the truth.”
I held his gaze. “I am.”
His hands clenched. “Don’t do this.”
I tried to turn away. He didn’t let me. He closed the distance in two quick steps and caught my arms, and the moment his skin met mine, the mate bond ignited. Real sparks, not the metaphor I’d let myself believe it had become. Warmth shot through my chest and down my spine, sharp enough to steal my breath. My wolf surged forward, calling for him, claiming him, the pull just as overwhelming as it had been the first time, five years ago, before I’d learned to bury it.
He felt it too. His grip tightened. “Liora…”
The way he said my name nearly broke something in me.
I shook my head. “Jaxon, don’t do this.”
His eyes searched my face, desperate. “Don’t do what?”
“Complicate things.”
His laugh came out short and bitter. “Complicate things? You walked into the council chamber and told the entire pack you’re carrying my Kier's child.”
“It’s his heir,” I said quickly.
“That’s not what I asked.” He leaned closer, voice dropping. “Is this my child?”
The question landed like a stone dropped straight into my chest. For one dangerous second I let myself consider the truth — because the look in his eyes was the look of a man begging for something that might save him, and some old, stupid part of me wanted to be the one who gave it to him.
“Jaxon,” I whispered.
His thumbs pressed harder against my arms. “Please.”
The bond pulsed between us again, stronger, demanding, honest in a way neither of us were being. My wolf clawed at my chest, begging me to stop lying.
I forced the words out anyway. “This is Kier’s baby.”
Silence fell. He didn’t move. Didn’t breathe. He just stared at me, and the hurt that filled his eyes slowly was nearly enough to undo every careful thing I’d built tonight — because I’d seen that exact look before, five years ago, the night I rejected him the first time.
My wolf screamed. I had thought the pain would fade eventually. Thought the bond would weaken enough that I could forget the shape of him. But Jaxon had never accepted my rejection, and every time we found ourselves alone, the pull dragged us back together anyway — years of secret touches, hidden nights, stolen mornings I told myself didn’t count. Somewhere in all of it, I’d started loving him. Not the way fate demanded it of us. In my own quiet, stubborn way instead.
And now I was destroying him a second time.
He released my arms slowly. His voice, when it came, was rough. “You’re lying.”
I didn’t answer.
“I know you are.” His eyes hardened. “And I will find out.”
My chest tightened.
“When I do,” he said quietly, “you’re going to regret it.”
“Jaxon—”
“No.” He stepped back, and the distance between us felt like something had been physically torn out of my chest. “You made your choice.”
He turned. The door opened, and cold air rushed in around him. He paused there a moment, not looking back.
“I loved you,” he said. Quiet and final.
Then he walked out, and the door shut behind him.
The silence that followed crushed me. I stood in the middle of the room staring at the empty space where he’d been until my knees finally gave out and I collapsed into the chair, hands shaking against my stomach, tears blurring everything in front of me. My wolf howled inside me — grieving, broken — because I had just lost the one wolf who had ever truly loved me.
All for a crown I hadn’t even won yet.