Chapter 3 Chapitre 3

Every night was the same thing. The heavy silence of Caleb's room, the cold light of the moon filtering through the curtains, and this feeling of emptiness in its heart. But it was not the void of loneliness. It was not a space left by the loss. No, it was much more than that. It was a vacuum filled with memories - memories of a life that had been torn off too early.

He straightened up in bed, his sheets wrapped around him like chains. His hands were shaking slightly. Each fiber of his being was stretched, like an arc ready to break. The images always came back to his mind, lively and cruel. Valeria's face, her late companion, smiling under the glow of dawn. Her golden hair floating in the wind. Her laugh, sweet as the breeze, resonating in her ears. All this was now a ghost, a distant reflection that he could not grasp, even when he reached out in the dark.

An explosion of light in the night. The piercing cry. The metal noise of a fight. Valeria's vision, who fell on his knees, looked into pain. And then, silence. The void, always a vacuum.

He closed his eyes, but he could not erase the image. Every night, she came back, clearer, more painful. This pain he thought he had mastered for months returned to each sunset. He couldn't flee her, not even in her dreams. And that night, like all the others, he felt this same burn, this same weight on his soul.

He got up suddenly, walking in silence in his room, his feet firing the cold floor. The room seemed more stuffy, more threatening as the darkness stretched around it. He passed a hand in his hair, forcing himself to breathe deeply. But the air, as fresh as it was, could not calm the torments that gnawed at him.

He walked towards the window, his hands tense on the edge. He looked at the stars, like every night, looking for a sign, an answer to his torment. But the stars never responded. They were simply there, silent and indifferent. He gave his teeth, trying to repel the memory of his partner, but he knew it was futile. Valeria was always present, in one way or another.

At one time he had believed that he could forget. That time would erase injuries. But the time, for him, had been cruel. He had seen him move away, this sweet light of hope. He had observed the pain turning into resignation. Rage resignation. And finally, the rage in ... what? What did he have now? Nothing. Just a vast vacuum as the universe that surrounded it. An emptiness that no force seemed capable of filling.

Suddenly, he heard a noise in the corridor. The discreet native of a foot on the floor. He turned suddenly, his wolf instinct on alert. His gaze sought the silhouette in the darkness of the door. And there he lives it. Mia, supported against the frame of the door, his eyes fixed on him, a worried but sweet expression on his face.

She was there, in the shadows, like an appearance. But unlike the ghosts of her past, she was not a shadow. She was real. Alive. She didn't have the air of Valeria. She did not have this fragrance of fragility that had always spent it. No, Mia was different. She wore a form of strength, even in her most vulnerable moments.

Caleb says nothing. He knew that she had not come to question, to search her thoughts. She was there, simply there, like a silent presence, ready to support him if necessary. But in his gaze, Caleb also saw a glimmer of understanding, something he would never have thought of seeing in an omega. She knew, in one way or another, what he was going through. And he hated her for that. Because he didn't want her to know. Because he was not ready to admit that he was broken, that his heart had been crushed much more than he wanted to recognize him.

"Caleb? His voice, bass and sweet, fell a path through silence. "You can't stay like that. »»

He looked away, his jaw tightening. He didn't want to speak to him, to reveal the depth of his sufferings to him. He didn't want her to see the breach in her armor. But she persisted, she did not leave. And something, perhaps a kind of weakness, pushed him not to repel it.

"I'm fine," he replied in a cold, almost mechanical voice. "I don't need anything. »»

Mia did not respond immediately. She walked slowly, her steps measured, as if she respected an invisible space around him, a space that he had not yet allowed anyone to cross. But she stopped right in front of him, her eyes plunged into hers with an intensity that made her heart beat a little stronger.

"You are not well," she said calmly. "And you know it doesn't hurt you to talk. »»

She was right. He knew it. But words were blocked in his throat, like an invisible barrier he could not cross. How to explain that he had no more room for pain, that everything he had known had become a porridge of regrets, anger and resignation? How to say that there was no more room for nothing else, not even for the light that she was trying to breathe in the darkness of her soul?

He turned suddenly, heading towards the window. "You don't understand, Mia. The loss, it is ... it is like a poison. She eats away from the inside. You think you can live with it, but you just survive. And I ... I don't want to survive anymore. »»

Mia did not move, his gaze always fixed on him. She knew. She knew what it was to get lost in sorrow, to get lost in an endless remorse labyrinth. But she says nothing. She did not offer him hollow words, of dummy comfort. She remained there, silent, a constant presence, like a rock against which he could break if he needed it.

"You are not alone, Caleb," she whispered after a long silence. "I'm here, even when you don't see it. And I will always be there. »»

He closed his eyes, a lonely tear rolling on his cheek. He was not alone. But he didn't know if it was enough.

Mia woke up with a start, her heart beating in her chest, a short, breathless breath. Her eyes opened in the darkness of the room, but it took her moment to remember where she was. His hands were soaked with sweat, and the air, despite the freshness of the night, seemed to him heavy and suffocating. The nightmares had become its night reality. Visions of her former Alpha haunted her tirelessly. She saw her gaze distorted by hatred, her sharp claws falling on her like a storm, and the violence of her orders. He had never considered it something other than possession. A weak omega, marked as he pleases, used and abandoned. The worst part was that he had never stopped following her, like a shadow ready to catch her at all times. Even after she escaped, her threats had resonated in her mind. She would never be safe as long as he lives. He would track it endlessly.

She clenched her fists, trying to repress the emotions that rose in her. This anger, this constant fear, had become invisible companions. Mia had no room for sweetness, for hope. She had learned to live with pain, to ignore the calls of her heart. But nightmares ... They were a war that she couldn't win.

His eyes opened again, this time looking for a way to calm down. It fixed the shadow of the room, the silhouette of the furniture drawn by the light of the moon. A sigh escaped his lips. The external calm contrasts so much with the inner tumult. But even in the tranquility of the night, she could not escape the claws of her past.

She got up slowly, not wanting to get carried away by fear. Her gaze landed on the window, then she turned to the door. She knew that Caleb was not far away, but she would not disturb him. She was not there for that. She had to defend herself alone. There were things that he would not understand, invisible scars that no one could heal in his place. But the fact that he was there, present, somewhere in this large house, offered a form of silent comfort. There was a reminder that there were people who could still understand the pain it was carrying. Even if that was not enough to make it disappear, it helped him to hold. For a moment, she could afford to believe that perhaps, perhaps just, life could still offer a glimmer of hope.

For his part, Caleb began to realize that her relationship with Mia took a strange turn. He had tried to turn away from her, to focus on his role as a leader and to ensure the stability of his pack. But each meeting with her, every moment he met his gaze, woke up something in him that he had not planned. It was not pity, or even a feeling of duty. It was deeper. A connection that he could not explain, an attraction that he could not repress. He knew that his world did not mix with that of omega. Not after all he had lost. Not after betrayal, pain.

And yet, with Mia, he could not ignore the strange feeling that was born in him every time he was near her. It was as if part of his soul recognized his, even in the deepest darkness. But he refused to give it too much importance. His injuries were still cool, too recent. The loss of Valeria had deeply marked him, and he was not ready to relive this suffering. Mia, too, had her own scars. He could see him in her eyes, in this vulnerability that she carefully hidden. However, he felt this inner tightness. He knew he had to keep his distance. But every moment spent with her seemed to blur her certainties a little more.

Their worlds were brushed against each meeting, like two opposite forces attracted by each other, despite everything that separated them. Mia had not asked to be what it was, any more than him. They were both marked, both eaten away by events that they had not been able to control. But even in their respective suffering, there was something more. Something that was frightening and attracted him.

He met his gaze one day in the hall. His eyes, however full of secrets, were not diverted. She observed him as if she was waiting for him to understand something he still did not know. He felt ... vulnerable. He, the Alpha who had always known where he was going, who had ordered battles, directed his pack with an iron fist. But facing Mia, he no longer knew where he was. And every time he tried to get away, he felt this invisible link tightening a little more.

Mia's past, this secret that she hid under an apparent layer of force, was a sword of damocles above them. But at the same time, he knew that he could not flee this connection. That he could not ignore what was obvious between them. His feelings, as confusing as they are, were there. And it doesn't matter how much he was trying to suffocate them, they always resurfaced. He had to make a choice. But was he ready to do it? Was he ready to be taken again, to risk another loss?

Mia moved away in the shadows, her thoughts intertwining. She knew that the link between them grew up every day, even if he was trying to deny it. She felt it in the air, in the silences, in each look exchanged. Caleb could not flee this connection. He could try to ignore it, but he could never erase it. No more than she could erase her past. And while she was preparing to face another night of nightmares, a thought crossed her mind. Maybe just like her, Caleb had her own demons. Maybe he was not as invincible as he wanted to appear. But she was not ready to face her. Not yet. Not as long as he would not accept himself what he felt.

Their lives were intertwined, and despite all their efforts to escape from this truth, they could no longer go back.