Chapter 44

Weston

The second day of the convention felt endless. Not because of the meetings or the presentations—but because every second I pretended to be normal stole another moment from the woman I loved: Alex.

After everything Herman had shown me—fragments of memories that should have been gone—my mind was a battlefield. One side clung to her: her bright smile, the way she curled into me when she slept, how she whispered “Prince Charming.” The other side loathed her: the disgust in my gaze, how I pushed her away, the violence of my hands—

I cut off that thought. My stomach twisted whenever I remembered. Those same hands had caressed her face with love—and had hurt her. I stared at my palms. For the first time, I hated being strong. I hated being an Alpha. Strength was supposed to protect the people you loved, not destroy them.

By the final presentation, I could barely breathe. I slipped out before anyone could stop me. Angelo caught up to me in the hall.