The Alpha’s Fated Outcast: Rise Of The Moonsinger

Chapter 223 223: Clarissa...

Clarissa

What if love wasn't about leaving, but about staying – no matter the cost?

What if the person you adored carried dark, dangerous secrets, but instead of running, you found yourself drawn in even deeper?

They say love makes you blind. But what if it makes you see everything – every dark secret, every twisted deed – and you choose to stay anyway?

I've loved Nathan for as long as I can remember. At first, I thought it was because he chose Lyla over me. But it wasn't jealousy that kept me joined to the hip with him—it was the thrill, the fascination that grew each time I uncovered a part of him no one else saw.

I didn't fall in love with Nathan because he was perfect – he's far from that. I fell in love with him because I was the only one who saw his imperfections. Each time fate made me witness his darkest moments, each terrible secret I discovered, it only pulled me deeper under his spell.

While others saw the charming Alpha heir obsessed with Lyla, I alone saw the monster beneath the mask – and goddess! That monster was beautiful.

Call it madness, delusion of grandeur – loving a man capable of such things. But the first time I had stumbled on him lying next to his dead mother and weeping uncontrollably despite how it was taboo to do so to the dead, and how he would lay next to her each night… I knew he used to see me but wouldn't say anything.

When he opens to door to where she laid embalmed, he'll keep it half opened and I would spend the night with him. I felt special. Chosen. Like the universe itself was conspiring to show me the real Nathan, the one no one else would believe existed.

All the times, he had confided in me, or I had helped him bury his blood-stained clothes or help treat his cuts or run errands for him… instead of fear, it only made me fall harder.

I know he doesn't love me. Not yet. But that doesn't matter if everyone loved the people who loved them back, who will hurt? Who will be broken? Who will be bitter? More than anything, what matters more to me is that he belongs to me. Only I understand the darkness that lives inside him.

Only I can him for what he truly is.

And I'll make sure he never belongs to anyone else.

~~~

I sat at the vanity in our room carefully brushing out my long dark locs cascading over my shoulders like silk. A small smile played on my lips as I heard the heavy stomping of boots coming towards the room.

Nathan was angry.

when he was furious and I knew exactly why – my brother, the baby in my mother's womb, had survived despite every force working against it, the

through the mirror as he stormed in, grunting in frustration as he shrugged off his jacket, throwing it carelessly to the floor. He peeled off his shirt next, his muscles flexing with tension before he stalked into the bathroom. The sound of the

the bed, and settled on the covers, pretending to read a book. A while later, the sound of running water stopped and he came out of the bathroom with a white towel

book as I turned a page absentmindedly pretending to be engrossed,

as his cold silence had

so transparent that it left little to the imagination, but I focused on my book. I felt rather than saw him stop in front of me, likely expecting me to look up to acknowledge him or attempt a conversation. Normally, I would. Normally,

to give him what he wanted. I flipped the pages of my book with deliberate

pyjama bottom and was shirtless. Instead of heading to his room or the couch or pacing as he often

skipped

racing but

time Nathan had slept beside me was our wedding night. Our marriage had been a performance since he told me he would never love me. He shared our bed in name, but

flipping another page, though the words blurred. The only sound in the room was the faint rustling

he wasn't

to the bathroom. Once inside, I leaned against the

– plans he had been so sure of, fall apart and

was dressed like Lyla – the way she styles her hair, the sheer blue lingerie that clung to my curves and even the scent I had carefully applied, imitating the

I questioned him, tried to comfort him, or attempted to get inside his head – he would shut me out completely. Lyla never asked

nodding in approval before washing my hands and reapplying Lyla's scent. When I returned, he was sitting in bed and his

the way his eyes lingered on me. Was he admiring my body through the sheer fabric? Was he debating whether or not

the briefest glance

something?" he finally

gaze for a moment, and then shrugged. "Nothing. Did

stared at me, his brows furrowing slightly before sighing heavily and leaning back

mother

I answered coolly. "Thanks to you, they were able

Silence again.

go? The maids said you

"You know, just here

his voice