#Chapter 40: A Way Out
Karl

The sting of rejection pulses through me, acute and raw, as I distance myself from Abby’s place.

My footsteps echo through the quiet city streets, the usual hustle and bustle of the nightlife seemingly

dimmed tonight. Each step aligns with the rapid beat of my heart.

I can’t shake the feel of her, the nearness of our last moment.

Abby looked beautiful. She clearly put a lot of effort into her appearance today; her hair and nails

looked freshly done, she was wearing makeup, and a gorgeous dress.

A few years ago, I might have been bothered by the way that she dressed tonight. But lately, for some

reason I’ve been finding myself attracted to it. She’s se xy, always has been, but is somehow even

sexier now.

But what pi sses me off more than anything is that she was dressing like that for another man who

doesn’t even show any interest in her despite the ring he put on her finger. What gives? Why won’t she

just leave him already?

Shoving my hands deep into my pockets, I aimlessly kick a small rock ahead of me. Its journey,

haphazard and unpredictable, mirrors the state of my own emotions.

“She wanted me,” I find myself mumbling aloud, holding onto the raw intensity of our almost-kiss.

My wolf stirs within, a familiar presence anchoring my thoughts. “She did,” he rumbles in agreement.

“But she held back. If you’d just be patient and let her come to you, she’d see the depth of our love”

“I did let her come to me,” I reply. “She’s the one who called me tonight. But at the end of it, she still

can’t stop thinking about that pr ick.”

My wolf growls in annoyance. “Give her time.”

The anger is right there, bubbling at the surface. “Time? And for what? For Adam?” I snap, frustration

bleeding into every word. “Who leaves their fiancée high and dry like that? Especially when she clearly

in so

car horn in the distance snaps me back momentarily,

“She’s changed. She’s not

more

tonight?” I spit. “The lengths she went

as a growl. I don’t keep them in my head

them out loud,

a soft chuckle punctuating my thoughts. “She

something.”

help the growl that rises in my throat, frustration evident. “She wants me.

every dam n second.”

his wisdom clear. “Wanting and acting on it are worlds apart.

cautious now. You can’t

breath, letting the cold air fill my lungs. It’s

what my wolf says.

be right,” I murmur, the weight of

change. Be genuine. Earn her trust,” my wolf advises, his tone

and when

take a moment, lost in thought. The journey back to my apartment is

the solitude of my own space. But I

whisper to myself, thinking of Abby, of what I need to do. Tomorrow,

wolf rumbles in agreement, its presence a constant reminder that this fight,

from over.

long against the hardwood floors

of a solitary candle on

in contemplation, my fingers mindlessly caressing the leather armrest of my

and countless brooding sessions—much like the

my mind.

of his name leaves a sour taste in my mouth.

intervene. But tonight, it’s not just Abby or Adam that burdens my

phone buzzes to life on the table beside me, momentarily breaking my reverie. The

secretary. Swiping to answer, I keep my

“What’s up, Gianna?”

in the tone of her

know.”

I urge,

brother’s residence. There’s talk

coma,”

news hits me harder than I’d like to admit. My

our pack. My grip tightens

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