Three Weeks with the Wolf I Should kill Chapter 06
I Have to Go
Aurora’s POV
Jackson’s team escorts me to the border. Except escort is the wrong word. They’re guarding me like a prisoner.
They keep their distance. Nobody speaks to me. The hostility radiates off them in waves, thick enough to choke on. I can feel their eyes drilling into my back, full of disgust and betrayal.
We pass the lake where Kieran took me walking. The waterfall where we first kissed. Every familiar spot twists like a blade in my chest, sharp and relentless. I force myself to look straight ahead, but the memories won’t stop coming. His hand in mine. His laugh when I splashed him with water. The way he looked at me like I was something precious.
At the top of a ridge, I catch sight of a solitary figure in the distance.
Kieran stands there watching us leave. Even from here, I feel the weight of his gaze. His posture is rigid, shoulders squared, but his hands are clenched into fists. I see them trembling slightly.
I want to run back to him. Want to tell him those days weren’t all fake. Want to tell him I’m hurting too. But I don’t move. Because what would I even say? Because maybe this separation is better for both of us.
Winston and the Nighthollow warriors wait at the border. Relief floods his face when he sees me.
“Alpha!” He rushes forward. “Are you alright? Did they hurt you?”
“I’m fine.” My voice sounds hollow even to my own ears. “Let’s go home.”
“But-”
“Home, Winston.”
During the journey back, he tries asking what happened. I just shake my head. “Later.”
I don’t want to talk about it. Don’t want to remember.
Just want this nightmare to end.
The pack surrounds me when we reach Nighthollow, celebrating my return. Their joy feels suffocating. I want to hide somewhere dark and quiet where nobody can see me falling apart.
“Alpha, you look exhausted,” Winston says, concern creasing his face. “Should I call the doctor?”
“No. I just need rest.”
My room feels strange when I finally collapse onto the bed. This place where I grew up, where everything should feel familiar and safe, seems foreign now. I stare at the ceiling and wait for the ache in my chest to fade.
It doesn’t.
The pain starts as a dull throb, easy to dismiss as stress or exhaustion. But it grows sharper, more insistent, like something’s tearing at my ribcage from the inside. My breath comes in short gasps. Each inhale feels like drowning.
Ember whines in my mind, the sound raw and desperate.
He’s hurting, she says. Our mate is hurting.
He’s not our mate. I force the words out through gritted teeth. He’s the enemy.
He’s our fated wolf. Ember pushes back harder. This separation will kill us.
I know what she means. The symptoms are unmistakable. Chest pain. Irregular heartbeat. Difficulty breathing. Insomnia. Every miserable consequence of being apart from him crashes over me in relentless waves. But I can’t let anyone see. Can’t let them know that my fated mate is our sworn enemy.
On the third day, the council calls an emergency meeting.
I sit in the Alpha’s chair facing a dozen stern faces. My uncle Thomas speaks first, his tone dripping with false concern.
“We’re all relieved you’re back safely.” He pauses for effect. “But I think the council deserves to know where you’ve been these past three weeks.”
“Recovering from my injuries.”
“Recovering where?” He leans forward. “Why couldn‘t anyone find you? Why was Winston unable to reach you?”
“I had my reasons.”
“What reasons?” Thomas stands abruptly. “Alpha, you were with the enemy for three weeks! Do you understand what Nighthollow suffered during that time? We lost skirmishes at the border. The western packs got slaughtered. And our Alpha was at Ironridge-”
“Enough!” My palm slams against the table. “I don’t answer to you about my whereabouts.”
Another council member chimes in. “At least explain why things haven’t improved since your return. The rogue threat keeps growing. Ironridge pressure keeps mounting. Maybe we need more aggressive measures.
“Such as?”
“Ally with the rogues,” Thomas says. “The enemy of my enemy is my friend.”
“You’ve lost your mind.” I stare him down. “Rogues aren’t allies. They’re a plague.”
“How would you know?” Thomas challenges. “You
spent three weeks with Ironridge. Maybe your loyalties have shifted.”
“Are you questioning my loyalty?”
The room goes silent. Thomas eventually sits, but his expression stays defiant.
After the meeting, Winston finds me with a cup of hot tea.
“You look tired,” he says quietly.
“I’m fine.”
“Alpha.” He sits across from me. “I don’t know what happened, but I can see you’re in pain.”
I shake my head. “I’m okay.”
He sighs. “Your eyes tell me you didn’t just lose an enemy.”
My hands tremble. Tea spills onto the desk. Winston doesn’t press. He just stays there, this old warrior who served my father, always knowing when to speak and when to stay silent.
“Thank you,” I finally manage.
“Don’t mention it.” He stands to leave. “Whatever happened, I’m on your side.”
After he’s gone, I sit alone in my office staring at my parents‘ photo on the wall.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I don’t know what to do anymore.”
Night falls heavy and oppressive. I’m in my parents‘ study searching through old files, desperate to find
the hatred I need. Desperate to remember why I should hate the Valens family. Desperate to crush this agonizing longing that’s eating me alive from the inside out.