#Chapter 97 – Alone

Victor stands alone on a terrace facing the waterfall, a large glass of whiskey in his hand. He stands close to the railing, his eyes closed, savoring the feeling of the spray on his face.

He does his very best, in this moment, to feel nothing, lest his emotions completely overwhelm him. He breathes a sigh through gritted teeth, and then a laugh.

He is an Alpha, for god’s sake. He is supposed to be better at this, at controlling himself, his situation, his world. Or even, at the bare minimum, his emotions.

But he feels, truly, that if he feels even one thing in this moment, that the tumult of everything in his life, everything he wants to feel and has been pressing down, will overwhelm him, and he’ll just collapse.

Victor steels himself against this, imagining that his bones are titanium, and around them his muscles are iron, that he’s complete and indestructible and strong.

It helps. For now, at least, it helps. He feels like he can handle it all again, for this moment, at least.

Opening his eyes, he laughs a small, sardonic laugh. He imagines that his therapist, wherever she is, would tell him to let himself feel his feelings. That he’s just been through a very difficult and traumatic day and that he needs to recognize that, to give himself some grace.

He’s an Alpha, but he’s still a person, she would say.

Evelyn flashes to his mind in the moment and he smiles, knowing that she would probably say the same thing.

These therapists, all alike.

Still, the thought of her, smiling at him, giving him her own strength, fortifies him.

“Victor?” He turns, blinking, surprised to hear a voice. He asked not to be disturbed.

The past few hours had been a whirlwind – hotel staff wanting direction, Amelia’s father’s rage at being denied an audience, speaking briefly to Beta Stephen about the draft of a press relief. This is the first moment he’s been able to be alone, and he had savored it.

Still, he knows that voice, and is unsurprised to see his mother walking towards him.

“Victor?” she asks again, her voice worried. “Are you all right?”

He puts out an arm and his mother tucks herself into it, wrapping him in a hug of her own. He lets her hold him, for a moment, before straightening himself. “I’m fine, mom. It’s been…well, you know. It’s been quite a day.”

says, looking up at him with such kindness in her face. “I

again. Part of him wants to go to pieces before his mother – he knows

his shirt in her hands. “For your people. I know it is hard, but

opposite advice of his therapist, but it’s advice that

media, and with your people. And your reputation has suffered over

mother, who has always talked straight to him. “I know, mother. I’m…becoming newly aware.

rid of Amelia was the first step.” She hesitates, and then

her eyes, his own brow raised, surprised. “I always thought

end, she turned out to be too selfish, too determined to privilege herself, to be the right one for you. Her person may have called to you, and I understand that

gently as she can, but there is steel to her voice as well. Victor nods, grateful for his

all business. She steps forward to straighten his tie. “Amelia has left, and I thought you should know.” He nods, grateful again for

pressure you to talk to the press, to make big decisions.” She folds her arms and holds his gaze. “I won’t

his hackles rise. “Thank you,

She says, brushing his cheek softly with her hand and then turning away. “No matter what, I am on your side,” she calls over her shoulder as she heads in the

the terrace, his brother storms out, wheeling his father’s chair before

been looking everywhere for you, Victor. What are you doing, hiding

as they swiftly approach, their faces

if he can’t stand the sight of his face. “Rejecting

had to be

eyes snapping to Victor. “You should have done it in private, away from prying eyes and

Victor’s lips curl back, giving his brother a silent snarl. As if Rafe hasn’t done anything but be an embarrassment his entire

press waiting,” his father says, gesturing back towards the inside of the venue.

a much-needed sip of his whiskey. “They’ve got enough to chew on

must control the narrative –“ his

now,” Victor interrupts, his own voice angry, “will become part of the narrative. I’ll issue a statement in a few days when things

was you,” Rafe says, his voice smug. “I’d make sure Amelia didn’t get the upper

has never had to make a hard decision in his life. So excuse me,” Victor says, giving him a mocking little bow, “if I don’t

“I’ve ruined Amelia’s life enough for one day – I don’t need to make any statements to

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