(Olivia's POV)

The next morning, I woke to the familiar scent of white moonflowers drifting through my cottage window. My wolf stirred uneasily, recognizing the Alpha's presence before I even looked outside.

There he was again. Ethan Stone stood at the entrance of Maple Grove Cottage Complex, holding a fresh bouquet of my favorite flowers.

His powerful Alpha presence was impossible to ignore, even from three stories up. The morning sunlight caught the amber flecks in his eyes as he gazed up at my window with desperate hope.

I deliberately turned away from the window. My wolf bristled at his persistent courtship, rejecting the mate bond that still connected us despite everything.

This had been going on for days now. Every morning, the same routine.

Ethan would arrive before dawn, positioning himself where I couldn't miss him when I left for work. His expensive suits were always perfectly pressed, his dark hair immaculately styled.

But there was something different about him now. Something vulnerable that hadn't been there before.

The flowers were always fresh white moonflowers, never wilted or carelessly chosen. He must have them specially delivered each morning from the Sacred Grove where they grew wild.

I grabbed my crystal design portfolio and headed for the back exit. I refused to give him the satisfaction of acknowledging his presence.

My wolf whined softly, confused by my rejection of our mate. But I pushed down those instincts.

forfeited the right to court me the day he chose

to find him still there. This time, he had spread Stone Pack business documents across

as he worked through pack finances and territorial agreements. Maxwell Chen's car was parked

my vehicle. Hope flared in their depths, quickly followed by disappointment when I walked past

he called softly. His voice carried the authority of an Alpha King, but also something I'd never

paused at my cottage door but didn't turn around. My hand trembled

said. "I know I don't deserve your forgiveness, but I

in his voice made my wolf whimper. But I

broad shoulders were hunched over the documents, occasionally running his hands through his

morning, the white moonflowers. Every evening,

resolve was beginning to crack. Not because I forgave him, but because his persistence was wearing

a decision. If Ethan wanted to

our mate

crackled to life between us, and I felt his shock through the

the bond, keeping my message brief

(Ethan's POV)

message hit

a crucial

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