Chapter 115 115

Chapter 115 115
"Alexa?" I called out. I didn't just think it; I projected the thought with every bit of intention I had, needing her absolute, undivided attention for what I was about to say. I needed us to be on the same page, no more bickering, no more hidden tugs of emotion that didn't belong to me.

"Right in your head," she responded. Her voice lacked its usual sass, replaced by a serious, focused tone that matched my own. She knew this was a turning point.
"Let's make a deal," I said. It was the only way I could see us moving forward without tearing each other apart from the inside out.

"Sure," she agreed, though I could feel her cautious curiosity hovering in the back of my mind.
I took a breath, staring at the steamed-up mirror in the bathroom. "I have said my piece, and I am certainly done living like this. I’m done being the girl who hides, the girl who cries on the floor, and the girl who lets her past dictate her every move.

So, here is how it’s going to go: I am not going to him. I am not going to go searching through the pack house, looking for an Alpha who once threw me away. I won't be the one to bridge that gap."
I paused, letting that sink in. Alexa remained quiet, listening.

"But," I continued, "if he comes back—if he is the one to seek us out, if he proves that he has really, truly changed and that he actually wants us back for the right reasons—then we’ll talk. I will give him that much. I will sit down and I will listen. But if he doesn't? If he’s just here to save face or if he gives up because I made it hard? Then I’ll end this bond whether anyone likes it or not. No more delays, no more second chances. Got it?"
There was a long silence. I could feel her processing the terms, weighing her wolf instincts against the hard reality of my human boundaries.

"Hmm," she finally responded. It was a non-committal sound, a way of dodging a direct answer.
"Alexa?" I pressed, my mental voice sharpening. I wasn't looking for a vague grunt; I needed a real agreement. I needed to know she wouldn't try to sabotage my resolve the moment he walked into the room.

"Okay, okay! Fine," she said, her voice dripping with resignation. "I hear you. If he wants us, he has to work for it. I agree."
With the deal struck, a tiny bit of the tension in my chest eased. I finished cleaning the tear tracks and the ruined makeup from my face. The water felt refreshing, a symbolic washing away of the night's breakdown. I left the bathroom and stepped back into the main area of my bedroom, but as the door clicked shut behind me, the silence of the house hit me like a physical force.

I stopped in my tracks, tilting my head. I listened carefully, my wolf hearing searching for the sounds that had woken me up yesterday. The soft music that had been drifting up from downstairs was gone. The muffled voices, the laughter, the rhythmic thud of feet—it had all stopped.

My heart skipped a beat, a cold knot of dread forming in my stomach. Had I caused this? Had the celebration been cut short because of my outburst in the hallway? The thought that I might have ruined Silvia’s big day, or embarrassed my father in front of the visiting Alphas, made me feel sick. But then again, I didn't even know how long I’d been asleep. Had it stopped hours ago? Had the guests already left in a huff of scandal and gossip?

I felt truly terrible. The guilt started to gnaw at me, and my first instinct was to run downstairs and check on everyone, to apologize for making a scene. But then I thought of the dress lying in a heap on the bathroom floor. It was wrinkled and messy, a reminder of my collapse. I couldn't wear that back out there; it felt like wearing my own defeat.

I didn't bother trying to fix it. Instead, I turned to my wardrobe and began to rummage through it with a sense of urgency. I needed something new, something that didn't have the weight of yesterday attached to it. I pulled out a few hangers, tossing things aside until I found it. It was a simple but elegant piece that I hadn't worn in ages.
As I pulled it on, I was relieved to find it fit perfectly, the fabric hugging my skin in a way that felt like a second skin. It was amazing, really—the kind of outfit that made me feel like I was putting on armor without needing to try too hard.

I caught a glimpse of myself in the full-length mirror. My face was bare, my skin still a little pale from the lack of real sleep, but I didn't care. I didn't want the makeup or the gold serif details right now. I just wanted to be me.
I stood there for a second, smoothing the fabric over my hips. The house was still so quiet, and the uncertainty of what I would find downstairs was terrifying. But I had made a deal with Alexa, and I had made a promise to myself.

I wasn't going to hide in this room until the sun went down again.
I walked toward the door, my hand hovering over the handle. I didn't know if Adrian was still out there, or if my family was angry with me, or if the pack was whispering about the "broken" Parker girl who couldn't hold it together. But as I turned the lock, I realized that for the first time, it didn't matter what they thought. I was moving for myself.