Chapter 26 Twenty six

Chapter 26 Twenty six


ELLA’S POV 

The night air is cold enough to sting my skin, but I welcome it. It keeps me awake. It keeps me from thinking too much. I walk until the voices and lights fade behind me and the only thing I hear is the wind and my own breathing. I sit on the training field bench, the same place where I once sat and watched others live a life that I could never have. I used to sweep dirt here while they trained. I used to listen to laughter and orders and pretend I didn’t feel like a ghost among them. My hands tremble as I pull my shawl closer, my chest tight and aching. I don’t know if I’m angry. Or sad. Or tired. Maybe all of them. Maybe too much of all of them.

“You shouldn’t be alone out here.” His voice comes from behind me. Deep. Steady. Familiar. I don’t turn immediately. I know it’s him. I always know when he is close. My body remembers him even when my mind tries to forget. When I finally look up, Sam is standing a few feet away, hands in his pockets, breathing like he ran here. His eyes find mine and the world goes quiet. We stare at each other like two people standing at the edge of something breakable.

I clear my throat and look away. “You shouldn’t be here.”

“I could say the same.” His steps toward me are slow, cautious. Not like the Sam who forced, commanded, and demanded. This one looks like he’s afraid of breaking something. Or losing something.

He stops close enough that I can feel his warmth. “What’s going on with you?” he asks softly. The question hangs between us like smoke. I don’t answer. Because I can’t answer. Because the truth is heavy and dangerous and tied to too many scars.

Sam’s voice drops lower, rougher. “Ella… you don’t get to shut me out. Not after everything.” My eyes burn. I grit my teeth. But the words escape anyway. “You did that first.” He freezes. I swallow hard, my voice shaking and uneven. “You pushed me away. You let them treat me like dirt. You didn’t listen. You didn’t look. You didn’t care.”

Sam’s jaw tightens, his breath trembling as he exhales. He closes his eyes for a second before opening them again. They look raw. Strained. Human. “I know,” he says. Not defensive. Not cold. Just honest. “I know I hurt you. I know I failed you.” His voice cracks slightly. “I was selfish. I was angry. And I didn’t know how to love you and hate the blood you came from at the same time. I didn’t know how to handle it. So I handled it wrong.”

The words hurt because they are true. And because they come too late. I turn away, my chest tightening as memories flash, being dragged, being starved, being ignored, being whispered about like I was a stain. “You didn’t just hurt me,” I whisper. “You let everyone else hurt me too.”

Silence. The kind that feels like it could break something inside.

Sam moves then. Slowly. He kneels in front of me. He brings himself low. An Alpha kneeling. I don’t understand it. I don’t know what to do with it. He looks up at me, his voice barely a breath. “I know I don’t deserve forgiveness. Not now. Maybe not ever. But I’m trying, Ella. I’m trying to do better. I’m trying to understand what I never cared to understand before.”

I shake my head, tears slipping out. “You’re only trying because there’s a child.” The moment the words leave my lips, everything in him stills. His breathing changes. His eyes sharpen. Heavy. Controlled. “Is that what you think?” he asks, voice low, deep, wounded.

I look away. “Yes.”

He stands slowly. Not angry. Not shouting. Just… hurt. “I didn’t know,” he says quietly. “And when I found out, I was terrified.” His voice lowers. “Not because of the child. But because I realized how much I’ve already lost. How much time. How many moments I never got to have. How much of you I destroyed before I ever even knew what you meant to me.”

My throat closes. My heart feels like it’s bruising itself from the inside. I whisper, “You didn’t want me. You never wanted me.”

Sam steps closer again, this time with no hesitation. His hand lifts, slow and gentle, like he’s giving me time to pull away. I don’t. His fingers touch my cheek. Soft. Warm. Familiar. “I did,” he breathes. “Even when I didn’t understand it. Even when I hated myself for it. That night in the woods didn’t happen because of the drug alone. I was out of control, yes, but I didn’t go to just anyone.” His thumb brushes my skin. “I went to you. I found you. My wolf knew. Before I did.”

My breath shakes. My vision blurs again. “Sam…”

He swallows hard. “I know I can’t erase what I did. I know I can’t expect you to trust me now. But I am asking you to let me try. Not because of the child. But because of you.”

My chest feels too full. Too tight. Too heavy.

Before I can speak, before I can think, a sharp snap of a branch breaks through the field. A fast shadow moves near the treeline. Sam turns instantly, his whole body shifting into Alpha awareness. His posture is sharp. Alert. Protective.

“Stay behind me,” he says, voice low.

But before we move, before he takes a step, before I can even breathe, 

A voice rings out from the darkness. Low. Cold. Familiar.

“Well,” the voice says. “Look at this. The Alpha and his little disgrace. Reunited at last.”

My blood runs cold I know that voice. Jude steps out of the shadows. Smiling.

And he is not alone, Three figures emerge behind him. Eyes glowing in the dark. Not wolves. Not pack. Rogues.

And Sam realizes it a second too late.

“Ella,” he says, without looking back at me, voice sharp and commanding.

“Run.”