Chapter 79 The Words That Cut
Derek vanished from the pack without ever leaving Nightfang.
For three days, he spoke to no one beyond necessity. Patrols were assigned through Owen. Council matters were postponed. Meals were left untouched outside his door. Growing cold before being cleared away again.
He stayed in the upper wing of the keep. Behind stone walls thick enough to muffle sound. And guilt.
The study bore the marks of his restraint.
Claw grooves scored the wooden desk. Shelves had been shattered and reforged. Books stacked again with rigid precision. The windows remained open despite the cold. As if fresh air alone could burn the power out of his blood.
It didn't.
The wolf inside him paced endlessly.
It slammed against the edges of his control. Silver eyes burning. Teeth bared. It did not understand restraint. It understood dominance. Release. Balance through motion.
You are caging me, it snarled.
Derek pressed his palms flat against the desk. Breathing slow and measured. Forcing the power down through sheer will. His reflection stared back at him in the dark glass. Eyes too bright. Jaw too tight. A man holding a storm behind his ribs.
He remembered the look on Julian's face.
The fear.
The proof.
Never again, Derek thought grimly. Never again would he let that power touch anyone.
Footsteps approached.
Victor did not knock.
The older Alpha stepped inside. His presence steady. Unyielding as the mountains that had shaped him. His silver hair was tied back. His gaze sharp with concern rather than command.
"You're tearing yourself apart," Victor said.
Derek didn't turn. "I'm keeping everyone safe."
Victor snorted softly. "By isolating yourself and pretending fear is discipline?"
Silence stretched.
"Son," Victor continued. Voice lower now. "Power isn't the problem. Fear of power is."
Derek laughed once. Humorless. "You didn't see it. How close I came."
"I saw enough," Victor said. "And I saw Amanda stop you."
Derek's shoulders tightened.
"You need her," Victor said. "You always have. Your mother did the same for me. Balance isn't weakness. It's survival."
Derek shook his head. "What if the bond isn't enough? What if I'm too dangerous?"
Victor studied him for a long moment.
"Then you don't get to decide that alone."
He turned and left. The door closing softly behind him.
The silence that followed was worse.
Across the keep, Amanda felt the absence like a physical ache.
The mate bond, once warm and constant, had grown thin. Frayed. Not broken. But cold. As if wrapped in layers of denial and fear.
She sat in the garden beneath the old ash tree. Knees drawn to her chest. Fingers twisting in the fabric of her dress. The leaves above her rustled gently. Whispering comfort the way the land always did.
Tears slid down her cheeks before she noticed them.
She had tried to give him space.
Tried to be patient.
But every hour of silence cut deeper than the last.
Footsteps crunched softly on gravel.
Riley dropped beside her without ceremony. Leaning back on his elbows. Gaze tilted toward the sky.
"He's an idiot," Riley said casually.
Amanda let out a broken laugh. "That obvious?"
"He's pushing you away to protect you," Riley continued. "Classic Alpha stupidity. Thinks suffering alone makes him noble."
She wiped at her face. "He doesn't trust himself anymore."
Riley glanced at her. "And that scares you."
"Yes."
"He doesn't realize he needs you more than ever."
Amanda's jaw set.
Something hardened inside her chest. Not anger. Not pride. Resolve.
That night, she did not knock.
She opened the study door and walked in.
Derek looked up sharply. Power flaring instinctively before he forced it back. His eyes softened for half a second. Then hardened again.
"You shouldn't be here," he said.
"I've been married to you long enough to ignore that," Amanda replied.
She closed the door behind her.
The room felt heavy with tension. Candlelight flickered across stone and wood. Catching on the faint silver veins etched into the floor where his control had cracked.
"We didn't choose how this began," Amanda said quietly. "But we chose everything after."
Derek turned away. "And this is the part I can't afford to get wrong."
"And you're handling it by running away from me."
"I'm protecting you."
Amanda stepped closer. "I don't need protection from you. I need my mate. My partner. My equal."
Her voice trembled despite her effort.
"You're treating me like I'm fragile again."
"That's not..."
"It is," she cut in. "You shut me out. You don't speak to me. You think fear makes you safer."
Derek spun to face her. Pain raw in his expression. "You didn't feel it, Amanda. The urge. The way it wanted to tear him apart."
"I did feel it," she said. "Through you."
Silence.
She took another step. "And I wasn't afraid of you."
His control slipped.
"Maybe we were wrong!" he roared. The wolf surging hard enough to rattle the windows. "Maybe the bond was just prophecy forcing us together! Did you ever think about that?"
The words fell like poison.
Amanda froze.
Her face drained of color.
"You don't mean that," she whispered.
Derek swallowed. Too deep in his own fear to stop himself.
"Don't I?"
The bond screamed.
Amanda reached up slowly. Fingers trembling as she unclasped the moonstone necklace from her throat. The one she had worn since the trials. Since survival had become destiny.
She crossed the room and placed it gently on his desk.
The sound was soft.
Final.
"Then I release you from your burden," she said. Voice steady despite the pain ripping through her chest. "If you want out of this bond, if you want to be free of me, then say it clearly."
She turned for the door.
"Otherwise," she added without looking back, "stop pushing me away and let me help you."
The door closed behind her.
Derek stood frozen.
The moonstone gleamed on the desk. Heavy as a heart.
Through the mate bond, he felt it. The sharp, tearing pain of Amanda's heartbreak.
And with horror, he realized the truth.
He had become the very thing he feared most.
Someone who hurt the person he loved.