Chapter 6 THE PAIN WE CHOOSE
Adam's POV)
The drive back home was quiet. Too quiet.
Kael didn’t say a word. Neither did I. The headlights carved pale tunnels through the fog, and the engine hummed low and steady, like it was afraid to interrupt whatever storm was brewing between us.
When we reached my street, the silence became unbearable. The familiar house loomed ahead, small and shadowed, the windows dark except for the faint flicker of the TV inside. My stomach turned. I’d spent years wanting to escape that place, but now it felt like being dragged back into a cage.
“Thank you,” I muttered, reaching for the door handle before he could try to speak.
Kael’s hand twitched against the steering wheel. His jaw was clenched, the muscles tight under his skin. “Adam—”
“Don’t.” I didn’t look at him. “You did what you wanted. You saved me. Congrats.”
Something inside me twisted when I said it, but I kept my tone flat. I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of knowing how confused I felt.
He exhaled, long and quiet. “You don’t understand what that word means. Rejection—it’s not—”
“I don’t care what it means,” I snapped, yanking the door open. “I just want to get out of this fever dream about getting kidnapped by a werewolf.”
He didn’t stop me. I think that hurt worse than if he’d tried.
The night air hit like ice as I stepped out. Gravel crunched under my shoes. I didn’t look back. I couldn’t. But even as I walked away, I could feel him watching me…like his gaze was heat against my back.
\---
The living room was dim, and the first thing my eyes caught, the moment I stepped in, was my father; he was slouched on the couch, eyes half-lidded, beer in hand. My stepmother stood near the kitchen counter, whispering something into her phone, her voice sharp and disgusted.
Neither looked up when I entered.
“You’re back,” my father said finally, the words soaked in irritation, not relief. “Where the hell were you?”
“Out,” I said.
“Out?” He laughed under his breath. “We were hoping maybe you’d done something useful for once. Guess not.”
My stepmother snorted. “He can’t even get a job without whining about it. What did you expect?”
I ignored them. My hands shook as I climbed the stairs. Every step felt heavier than the last, like something was trying to pull me back down. By the time I reached my room, my chest ached. Not just emotionally, physically too.
I shut the door and leaned against it, sucking in a deep breath. My heartbeat pounded too fast, too hard. The rejection should’ve felt like freedom, shouldn’t it?
Then why did it hurt like this? Did he do something to me?
I pressed a hand to my sternum. “Calm down,” I whispered to myself. “You’re fine. You’re fine.”
But I wasn’t fine.
The pain spread, sharp and insistent, wrapping around my ribs like invisible claws. I stumbled toward the bed, gasping. My vision blurred. The air felt wrong; too heavy, too thin, like trying to breathe underwater.
Was this a panic attack? I’d had them before, but never like this. Never with this strange heat crawling through my veins, burning at the edges of my skin.
Kael’s voice echoed in my head: ‘You don’t understand what that word means.’
“Shut up,” I muttered to no one. “I don’t care what it means.”
But the pain didn’t listen. It grew. My pulse raced. My head spun. I collapsed onto the floor, gripping the carpet until my nails bit into it.
And then…
Somewhere far away, I heard a low, ragged growl.
It wasn’t in my head. It wasn’t human.
I froze.
(Third-person POV – Kael)
The mug shattered against the floor.
Kael barely noticed. He was on his knees in his office, one hand gripping the edge of the desk, the other pressed against his chest. Blood trickled from his nose, staining the collar of his shirt.
“Alpha!” someone shouted from outside the door. “Kael, what’s—”
“Leave.” His voice came out rough, torn, barely human.
The door stayed shut. Good. No one needed to see him like this. No one needed to know what it felt like to be split in half by the persistent pull of a bond that is being denied.
He could still feel the echo of Adam’s words: ‘I reject you.’ Each syllable was a blade, carving into his chest, deeper, deeper, until even his wolf howled in agony.
Ryn snarled inside him, wild and furious. Go back. Fix it. He’s ours.
Kael gritted his teeth, forcing the beast down. “He doesn’t want us.”
He doesn’t know what he wants! Ryn’s voice was a roar in his head. You let him suffer alone! You promised—
Kael slammed his fist into the desk. Wood splintered. The sharp pain grounded him, but barely. His vision swam, his breathing uneven. Every bond thread was burning, snapping.
He tried to stand and couldn’t. His legs gave out. The taste of blood filled his mouth.
“Adam,” he rasped, half in prayer, half in curse.
Somewhere deep in the bond that still faintly pulsed, he could feel Adam’s fear. His pain. It was distant, like thunder across a valley, but it was real.
“Don’t you dare die on me,” he whispered hoarsely, before the darkness took him to his knees again.
\---
(Adam’s POV)
The growl vanished as quickly as it came, leaving silence in its wake. I pressed a shaking hand to my chest. My breath came out in gasps. I couldn’t stop trembling.
It felt like my body was at war with itself, like something inside me was trying to claw its way out. Heat rippled beneath my skin, feverish and wild. I stumbled toward the door, my vision tunneling.
Someone knocked.
“Adam? You okay, kid?”
I blinked. The voice was deep, familiar… It's the guy from two doors down. Mr. Drew. He was in his late twenties, quiet, always offered to mow the lawn when my father got too drunk to bother.
I fumbled with the doorknob. “Y-Yeah,” I lied. “Just tired.”
The door creaked open before I could stop it. Drew stood there, concern creasing his brow. He looked at me, at the sweat on my forehead, at the way I was leaning against the frame.
“Jesus,” he said softly. “You look like hell.”
I tried to laugh, but it came out broken. “Thanks.”
“Here,” he said, stepping in without waiting for permission. He caught me just as my knees gave out, guiding me toward the bed. “Easy. Sit down before you fall over.”
I didn’t have the strength to argue. He grabbed a blanket from the chair, draped it over my shoulders. “You’re burning up. I’ll get you some water.”
“Don’t… tell them,” I whispered.
He paused. “Your folks?”
I nodded weakly.
“Don’t worry,” he said. “I won’t.”
When he handed me the glass, his fingers brushed mine. His touch was cool. Too cool.
I didn’t notice then. I just wanted the pain to stop.
He sat on the edge of the bed, watching me sip the water. His expression was unreadable; somewhere between pity and calculation.
“You should rest, Adam,” he murmured, pulling the blanket higher. His voice was calm, almost too calm.
I sank back against the pillow, my body heavy and aching. The heat behind my eyelids blurred everything; the room, his face, the world.
That night, I dreamed of Kael.
He stood in the forest, his shirt torn, eyes wild with pain. The moon above us bled red. When I reached out, my hands were covered in blood… his blood.
“Adam,” he said, voice broken. “You think rejection makes it stop? It only binds us tighter in pain.”
I woke up with a strangled cry, sweat cold against my skin. The s
cent of smoke and old dust filled my lungs.
I had no idea what's going on and why the shape shifting monster showed up in my life out of the blue.