CHAPTER 39
Maya's POV
Though the forest was silent it provided no comfort. The trees stood like silent witnesses to my struggle, with their branches extending as if to accuse me. Even though the cool night air felt nice against my skin, the heat burning inside remained unabated.
I paced close to the clearing’s edge, feeling crushed under all the decisions I had to make. Maya, my pack, and my future all seemed like uncontrollable storms. Then came her scent, which clung to the air like a delicious curse and drew me in despite my best efforts to keep my distance.
“Darius?”
Her quiet but firm voice cut through the quiet. At the sound of her, my wolf stirred, and my body tensed reflexively.
I turned, and there she was. The moonlight highlighted the resolve in her eyes and gave her features an otherworldly glow. But I could see the flaws and the fragility she tried so hard to conceal beyond that strength.
“What are you doing here?” Harsher than I meant to, I asked.
She didn’t recoil. Instead, she stepped forward, her arms folded to protect herself. “I should be asking you the same thing. You’ve been avoiding me all day. Do you really think I wouldn’t notice?”
“I needed time to think.” I avoided looking at her and answered sharply.
“Time to push me away or time to think?” With a sharper voice, she shot back.
She touched a nerve with her words. I clenched my fists, fighting to control my feelings. “Maya, we shouldn’t argue right now.”
“Then when is the time, Darius?” as she stepped closer, she demanded. “Because every time I try to talk to you, you shut me out. You say you’re protecting me, but all I feel is the wall you keep putting up between us.”
With the shame growing like a tidal wave, I closed my eyes. “It’s not about you.”
“So, what’s it about?” she asked, her voice suddenly shaking. “Because from where I’m standing, it feels like you’re running away from something—and dragging me down with you.”
Her words sat heavy and oppressive in the air. Exasperated, I brushed a hand through my hair and looked away. “Maya, you don’t get it.”
“Then explain it to me!” Her voice broke as she begged.
The intensity of her feelings tore through me as I whirled back toward her. “I can’t think straight when I’m with you,” I admitted, my voice rough. “You make me weak, Maya. And I can’t afford to be weak right now.”
Her breath caught, and she looked at me for a while, her eyes wide with shock. “Weak?” Her voice was hardly audible above a whisper as she repeated, “You feel that way about me?”
“No,” I responded hastily as I moved in closer. “I didn’t mean that.”
“Then what did you mean, Darius?” She raised her voice and asked. “Because it feels like no matter what I do, I’m just another problem for you to deal with.”
She retreated when I reached for her, her eyes glimmering with rage and pain.
“You think that you are the only one having difficulties here?” She went on, her voice faltering. Darius, I’m trying. I’m looking for a sense of control and trying to understand where I fit into all this. And all you’re doing is making me feel like I don’t matter.”
Her words hit harder than any physical blow. I dropped my hand, the weight of her pain pressing down on me. “Maya, you do matter. More than you know.”
“Then why do you keep pushing me away?” With tears in her eyes, she demanded. “Why do you always act like I’m a burden you can’t handle?”
I opened my mouth to respond, but no words came. The truth was, I didn’t have an answer—not one that would make sense, not one that wouldn’t hurt her more.
Instead, I looked away, gazing into the forest as if the shadows could shed some light. “I need to be alone, Maya,” I said finally, my voice barely audible.
alone.”
Her piercing breath struck my chest like a dagger. “What?”
I gritted my teeth and forced myself to look at her. “I need time to think. Alone.”
She appeared as if she may dispute for a second as her shoulders slumped. Then she straightened, her eyes full of unshed tears, her chin up in defiance.
“If that’s what you want.” Her voice cracked as she answered gently,
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“It’s not what I want.” I said with anguish in my voice. “I need it.”
Her lip quivered, but she quickly bit down on it, her resolve hardening. “Fine,” she said, her tone icy. “If you think shutting me out will solve anything, go ahead. But don’t expect me to sit around waiting for you to figure it out.”
It seemed like I couldn’t bridge the gap between us. Desperate to bridge it, I reached out, but she retreated, her face reserved.
“Maya...” I pleaded as I spoke her name.
“Don’t,” she broke off, her voice cracking. “If you’re only going to push me away once more, don’t say my name like that.”
I had to resist the temptation to embrace her and plead with her to stay since her words were a kick in the gut. But I couldn’t. Not when I knew what was at stake.
“I’m sorry,” I muttered, but the words seemed hollow.
She shook her head and laughed bitterly. “You are always.”
She turned and left without saying anything, her footsteps resonating in the darkness. With each step she walked, the pain in my chest grew as I watched her go.
I wanted to follow her and tell her how much I needed her and how much she meant to me. But I couldn’t. Not when the weight of my responsibilities threatened to crush us both.
Once again, the forest was quiet but felt oppressive and heavy. I closed my eyes and rested my head back against a tree.
“You’re a fool,” I muttered to myself, the words bitter on my tongue.
I knew I would see her tear-streaked visage every time I closed my eyes, and it plagued me. But there was no other option.
At least, that’s what I told myself as I stood there, alone in the darkness.