#Chapter 100: A Misstep
(Raiden POV)
Twilight casts the world in shades of purple and blue, the last golden rays of sunlight catching on dew–dams petals of night–blooming jasmine that line the walkway
I pause at the garden’s edge, watching Siena through the latticework of a rose covered archway
The severance ritual looms just hours away.
My last chance to speak truthfully, to find words for feelings I’ve always expressed through action rather than language The thought sends a tremor through my hands that I quickly clench into fists
Alphas don’t tremble Alphas don’t fear conversations
I step through the archway, deliberately scuffing my boot against the store to announce my presence
Siena’s head lifts immediately, her amber eyes finding mine with unerring precision. The scent of her anxiety spikes in the evening air
“Raiden.” My name emerges as barely more than a whisper, but my wolf catches it easily, preening despite the wariness in
her tone.
“I was hoping we could talk.” The words come out rougher than intended, scraping past the knot in my throat. “Before…” The breeze lifts a strand of her hair, dancing it across cheeks that have grown thinner these past weeks of conflict. Dark circles shadow her eyes, evidence that her sleep has been as disturbed as mine.
“About what?” Her voice strengthens, a protective wall rising in real time. “I think we’ve said everything that needs saying”
I move closer.
“No.” The word emerges more forcefully than intended, an echo of the command voice I’m trying desperately to avoid. I modulate my tone, swallowing back the desperation clawing at my throat. “No, we haven’t. Not really?”
Her scent shifts again, frustration blooming beneath the anxiety. “Days of silence, and now you want to talk? Hours before the severance ritual, you initiated?”
“I needed time to think. To understand what happened. What I did.”
“And did you?” She tilts her head slightly, studying me with the careful observation she usually reserves for potential threats. The realization that I’ve become categorized as something dangerous to her cuts deeper than any physical wound I’ve sustained.
“I was wrong.” The admission costs something–pride, certainly, but something deeper as well. A foundation stone of identity that has always defined me as Alpha. “About many things.”
Her expression remains unchanged, neither softening nor hardening further.
Above us, the first stars appear in the darkening sky, pinpricks of light in the gathering dusk. A night bird calls from the forest edge, “You’ll need to be more specific.” Her voice carries no mercy, no opening for the easy reconciliation part of me had foolishly hoped for. “Being wrong about many things covers considerable territory.”
The challenge in her tone strikes flint against steel within me, sparking defensive fire that I struggle to contain.
My jaw tightens, and my canines lengthen slightly as my wolf responds to perceived attack. I force a deep breath, tasting evening air laced with her scent, using it to center myself.
“I was wrong to control rather than support your independence.” Each word feels dredged from some deep internal well. * Wrong to keep you in the dark about funding your projects. Wrong to create situations that prevented you from leaving the pack grounds without me.”
Her eyes widen slightly–surprise at my directness, perhaps, or at the admissions themselves. The bond between us pulses once, stronger than it has in days, before settling back into its tenuous state.
“Why?” The single word contains multitudes of questions.
“I told myself it was protection.”
The truth tastes strange on my tongue, neither bitter nor sweet but simply raw. “But it was fear. Fear of losing you. Fes that given true freedom, you’d realize you deserved better than a mate who saw you second, who failed to recognize yo value until it was nearly too late.”
Successfully unlocked!
Shadows lengthen around us as the sun disappear compicicy, caring only the subtle glow of fairy lights strung through the garden trees and the silver illumination of a rising moon.
“So you tried to clip my wings before I could fly away.” Not a question this time, but a statement of understanding. “Bind me to you through obligation and dependency rather than choice.”
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#Chapter 100 A Misstep
I wince, the accuracy of her assessment. “I didn’t see it that way at the time. But yes.”
Something shifts in her expression, a softening around the eyes that gives me foolish hope. She opens her mouth to respond, but I continue, suddenly desperate to unburden myself completely.
“Losing Lila was difficult, but it was pride that was wounded, not my heart.”
The confession spills out, unstoppable now that the dam has broken.
“Losing you… The thought of it has hollowed me from within. These past days in isolation, feeling our bond fraying hour by hour… it’s been a kind of death, Siena.”
“Why are you telling me this now, Raiden? Hours before the severance ritual? When I’ve spent weeks trying to get you to understand these exact points?”
The question catches me off–guard, stalling the momentum of my carefully planned approach. “Because I finally understand what I stand to lose. What I’ve already damaged through pride and fear.”
“So this is about guilt.” She rises from the bench, putting us on more equal footing. The movement sends ripples across the reflecting pool, distorting our mirrored images. “Not genuine remorse, not real understanding, but guilt and fear of losing something you’ve finally decided you want to keep.”
“No.” The denial comes quickly, instinctively, but even I hear the defensive edge in my voice. “It’s not just guilt.”
“Isn’t it?” She steps closer, close enough that her scent envelops me completely–honey and copper and the distinctive note that is uniquely Siena.
“You had years to listen, Raiden. You dismissed me, controlled me.”
Each accusation lands with pinpoint accuracy, targeting vulnerabilities I didn’t know were exposed.
Horace bristles defensively, pushing against my control, demanding I assert dominance in a situation rapidly slipping beyond my grasp.
“I’m trying to make amends.” My voice hardens despite my best intentions, pride reasserting itself in the face of what feels increasingly like rejection. “To acknowledge my mistakes.”
“The night before we sever our bond.” Bitterness laces her tone, her eyes bright with unshed tears that reflect the garden lights like captured stars. “How convenient for your conscience.”
“Convenient?” My voice drops dangerously low, control slipping further. “You think isolating myself for days, forcing myself to confront every failure, every mistake, was convenient?”
She doesn’t back down, chin lifted in that stubborn tilt that first attracted me to her years ago. “I think you’re here because you’re afraid of losing, not because you truly understand what went wrong between us.”
“That’s not fair.” The words emerge as a growl, my canines fully extended now despite my efforts at control. “I’m trying to save our bond, our future.”
“Our future?” Her laugh lacks any warmth. “Or your pride? The great Alpha Raiden, unable to keep his mate satisfied, turns to desperate last–minute confessions when his possession is about to slip from his grasp?”
The characterization cuts deep, too close to fears I’ve been wrestling with in isolation. My control slips further, anger rising to protect against vulnerability exposed too suddenly, too completely.
“Is that what you think of me?” Ice enters my tone, the defensive mask I’ve worn for years sliding back into place. “That this is all about ownership? About pride?”
“What else could it be?” Her voice rises slightly, frustration evident in every line of her body.
“You never listened when I begged for independence. Never truly saw me until I was walking away. And now you expect me to believe you’ve had some magical revelation during three days of sulking in your cabin?”
“I wasn’t sulking.” The petty correction escapes before I can stop it, pride overriding the purpose that brought me here. “I was reflecting. Trying to understand what went wrong.”
“There.” She points at me, triumph and disappointment mingling in her expression. “That defensiveness. That inability to hear criticism without turning cold. That’s exactly why we’ve reached this point, Raiden.”
She’s right, of course.
Even now, when everything hangs in the balance, I’m retreating behind walls rather than remaining vulnerable. The realization comes too late to alter the course of this conversation, already spiraling away toward deeper division.
“I’m trying.” The words emerge strangled, caught between pride and desperation. “Goddess damn it, Siena, I’m trying to
this.”
“Some things can’t be fixed with a single conversation.” Sadness replaces anger in her voice, somehow infinitely worse. Some patterns are too deeply ingrained to change overnight.”
”
Movement at the garden entrance catches both our attention–Zion, his silver hair gleaming in the moonlight as he pauses
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#Chapter 100 A Misstep
at the threshold, clearly uncertain whether to interrupt.
“Siena?” He calls softly, his tone carefully respectful. “The pack healer is asking for you, Preparations for the ritual need to begin soon.”
Something shifts in her scent–relief?
The realization sends a fresh wave of pain through me, sharper than any physical wound. She’s relieved to have an escape from this conversation, from me.
“I’ll be right there.” She turns back to me, resignation settling over her features like a veil. “I need to go.”
“Siena, please.”
“For what it’s worth,” she says softly, “I wish things had been different between us.”
Past tense.
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