Chapter 103

-Alex's POV-

Blaming it all on my wolf, on the heightened emotions that had turned my insides into a churning mess, didn't make the sting of my words to Amaya any less sharp. The moment I walked away from her, the emptiness that had been a dull ache moments ago roared back to life, a gaping hole in my chest.

Watching Ivan appear at her side, his arm wrapped protectively around her as he steered her away, solidified the reality in my gut. She was gone. I had chased shadows, fueled by a desperate need to feel something, anything, other than the chilling indifference that had settled over me. And now, with my declaration of war hanging heavy in the air, there was no turning back. We had been fighting before, yes, but this was different. This was a line that had been crossed, a bridge that had been burned.

Picking up the glass of amber liquid in my hand, I took a long, slow drink, the liquor burning a familiar path down my throat. My gaze drifted out the window, unseeing. The image that burned behind my eyelids was far more vivid - the dead wolves sprawled across the cold concrete floor, their fur matted with blood. The metallic tang of blood filled my nostrils, a phantom sensation that refused to fade.

Yet, amidst the carnage, there was no flicker of satisfaction. Daniel was still alive. He was out there, breathing, plotting his next move, while loyal wolves, wolves lay lifeless on the floor. The thought scraped against my already raw nerves.

"That was a very considerate move, declaring war when I was still in the room, fiancé." Miranda's voice, dripping with disdain, sliced through

the silence of the room.

I didn't bother turning to face her. Dealing with her right now was the last thing I needed. "Not now, Miranda," I growled, the words rough in my throat.

But she was never one to back down from a fight. It simply wasn't in her nature. "You could have at least told me you were planning on giving that order," she countered, her voice laced with a sharp edge. "I could have been prepared."

Anger flared within me, hot and sudden. Turning towards her, I met her gaze head-on, my jaw clenched tight. "I saw you leave before it even started," I snapped. "Don't add to this, Miranda. I'm not in the mood for your games."

She rolled her eyes dismissively, but instead of pushing the issue, she simply settled into the chair across from me. "Well at least pour me a

drink.

Our gazes clashed for a moment and then, I walked towards the bar, and the only sound in the room was the clinking of ice against glass as i poured her a drink, the familiar amber liquid swirling in the crystal tumbler.

from me with a surprised blink, a rare vulnerability flickering across her usually composed face. Then, as quickly as it appeared, it vanished, replaced by a mask of indifference. She settled back

like hours, both of us staring out the window at the world outside. The first fat raindrops began to splatter against the glass, quickly escalating

surfaced, a fragment from a long-forgotten

the first drops of rain splashed against my face. Turning to my mother, I pointed a finger upwards. "Where does the rain come from?" I asked, my voice filled with childish wonder. A smile tugged at the corner of her lips, despite the dark circles that shadowed her eyes. "Where do you think it comes from?" she echoed

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Chapter 103

from the sky?" I offered,

escaped her lips, the sound warm and comforting. She knelt down to my eye level, her smile reaching all the way to the crinkles around her

sun is way

gentle breeze. "That's true," she admitted, "but they're still friends, you see? The sun shines down hot on the ocean, making the water want to jump up and touch

my imagination sparked. "So

so it gets a little frustrated. It keeps trying and trying to jump high enough, but it just

widened. "Like me trying to

together, they make a big difference. They rise up high in the sky, like a million tiny bubbles, and they

candy?" I interrupted,

"Sort of like cotton candy," she agreed. "But these clouds are full of all that water that jumped up from the ocean. And then,

in closer, captivated by

of water, they get too heavy to hold it all in anymore," she explained. "So the water starts

in understanding. "So the rain is like the ocean

to share its water with the earth.

moment, listening to the pitter-patter of the rain on the leaves around us. The gentle breeze ruffled my hair, carrying the sweet scent of wet earth. As the rain picked up its pace, drumming a steady rhythm on the roof of the house, a new feeling washed over

scrambled off the bench and into her lap, burying my face in the crook of her neck. Her arms wrapped around me instinctively, holding me tight. The rain was coming down

drumming of the rain. I lifted my head slightly, peering up at my mother's face. Her eyes were glistening, tears tracing shiny paths down her cheeks. But her lips were still curved in a sad smile,

at my heartstrings. Without fully understanding why, I knew she was sad. Maybe it was because

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