Chapter 4

Alexander's POV

We arrived at Seth's apartment twenty minutes later. It was a sleek, modern space in the heart of the city. He grabbed two beers from the fridge and handed me one without a word.

I took a long drink, hoping the alcohol would dull the ache in my chest. It didn't.

"Tell me everything," Seth said, settling into the chair across from me. "From the beginning."

So I told him. About seeing Stella at the club, about the instant recognition, the pull. About how I'd approached her and felt the bond snap into place with such force it nearly brought me to my knees. About her confusion, her questions, and my rejection. About how she collapsed and I couldn't leave her there, how I'd brought her to the hospital and sat by her bed for hours, watching her breathe, feeling like the worst bastard alive.

Seth listened without interrupting, his expression growing more serious with each detail.

"She dreamed about you," he said when I finished. "Before she ever met you, she was dreaming about you."

"She said that, yes."

"That's not normal, even for mate bonds." Seth leaned forward, elbows on his knees. "Usually the bond doesn't manifest until you meet in person. Dreams before meeting? That's... that's something else. Something stronger."

A chill ran down my spine. "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying maybe she's not as human as you think she is." Seth's eyes were sharp, calculating. "Or maybe the bond between you two is stronger than a typical mate bond. Either way, this isn't something you can just walk away from, Alexander. This is bigger than you, bigger than your fears."

I wanted to argue, but doubt crept in. What if he was right? What if there was more to Stella than I realized?

"It doesn't matter," I said, but the words felt hollow even to me. "I made my choice. I rejected her. It's done."

"Is it?" Seth asked. "Because from where I'm sitting, you're falling apart. And if you're this much of a mess, I can only imagine what she's going through right now."

The image of Stella lying unconscious on that hospital bed flashed through my mind, and guilt twisted in my gut. Seth was right. The rejection would be hurting her just as much, if not more.

"I don't know what to do," I admitted, and the confession felt like failure.

Seth stood and walked to the window, looking out over the city. "You have three options," he said finally. "One: you go back to her, apologize, and accept the bond. Help her understand what she is to you and what this world is. Two: you maintain the rejection but keep your distance, let her move on with her life while you suffer in silence. Three: you find a middle ground, watch over her from afar, protect her without claiming her, and hope that's enough."

"None of those are good options."

"No," Seth agreed, turning back to me. "They're not. But they're the only ones you have. Because like it or not, she's your mate. That's not going to change. The only question is what you're going to do about it."

I drained the rest of my beer, the weight of his words settling over me like a shroud. He was right. I couldn't escape this. I couldn't escape her.

The only question was whether I was brave enough to face what that meant.

"I need to think," I said finally.

Seth nodded. "Take all the time you need. But Alexander? Don't take too long, for both of you."

I stood to leave, but Seth's voice stopped me at the door.

"One more thing," he said. "If you decide you can't do this, if you really want to let her go... make sure it's for the right reasons. Not because you're scared. Fear is a terrible reason to lose the best thing that could ever happen to you."

I left without responding, but his words followed me all the way home.

Back in my apartment, the silence was deafening. I paced the floor, my wolf restless and angry, demanding I go to her. Every instinct I had screamed at me to return to the hospital, to reclaim what I'd rejected.

But I couldn't.

Could I?

I poured myself a drink, then another, trying to drown out the bond that pulled at me like a physical tether. But nothing worked. She was there, in every thought, in every breath.

I grabbed my keys. I needed to get out, needed to do something, anything to prove to myself that I could function without her. That the bond didn't control me. That I was still in control of my own damn life.

The club. I'd go back to Club Imperium. Maybe seeing where we met, where everything went wrong, would help me figure out what to do next.

Or maybe I was just a masochist.

Saturday morning was quiet at the club. The energy was different from Friday night, almost empty.

The moment I walked in, I felt her absence like a physical wound. She wasn't here. Of course she wasn't. She was probably still at the hospital, or at home recovering, hating me.

As she should.

I headed straight for the bar, needing something stronger than the beer I'd had at Seth's. That's when I saw a red-haired woman sitting alone with a drink. She looked up as I approached, her eyes lighting with interest.

"Rough night?" she asked, her voice smooth, inviting.

"Something like that," I muttered, signaling the bartender.

She shifted on her stool, angling her body toward me. "Want some company? You look like you could use it."

I should have said no. I should have finished my drink and left. But the bond was clawing at my insides, my wolf was howling for a mate I'd rejected, and I was desperate for anything that might shut it up for even five minutes.

"Sure," I said. "Can I buy you a drink?"

"Of course you can." She smiled sweetly, sliding closer.

We drank together, making small talk about nothing important. Light things. Surface things. She laughed at my half-hearted jokes, touched my arm, leaned in close enough that I could smell her perfume—something floral and cloying that made my wolf recoil.

Wrong. All wrong. Not our mate.

I ignored it and ordered another round.

From there, things happened fast. First we were talking over drinks and next we were in a room, her hands on my jeans..

She kissed me roughly and I kissed her back, trying to lose myself in the sensation.

But she wasn't Stella.

"You're tense," she murmured against my mouth, her hands working at my zipper. "Let me help you relax.”

She freed my cock from my pants, Her hand wrapped around it, stroking with practiced efficiency, and I let my head fall back, closing my eyes.

But the moment I closed my eyes, all I saw was Stella. Her face in the hospital bed. The way she'd looked at me at the club before I rejected her.

"Fuck," I muttered.

"Mmm, yes," the redhead purred, misinterpreting. She dropped to her knees, taking me into her mouth.

The sensation felt good. Her mouth was wet, tongue skilled that should have had me hard on seconds. But my body wasn't just cooperating. My wolf was snarling, rejecting every touch that wasn't from our mate.

I tried. God, I tried. I gripped the back of her head, tried to focus on her mouth on my dick but my mind kept drifting to Stella.

My phone buzzed on the table, stopping us short as I grabbed the phone. A message from my grandmother: Come home, Alexander. We need to talk.

I exhaled, finally I could stop torturing myself to enjoy this.

I typed back: On my way.

“Sorry I have to leave.” I said sharply, watching her pout.

I pulled out my wallet, threw some bills on the bed for her time and the insult. She snatched them up without a word, and I left the room before she could say anything else.

I had to brace myself for what was coming because I knew what my grandma wanted to discuss and it had everything to do with her.